The older battleship let out a pained grunt as the pair stepped into the light, past the cavern entrance she had called home for so long. "Come on Ori, just a few steps closer." Iowa reassured, struggling harder to pick through the rocks while carrying an armored warship. "Then we can get the others and start on our way back."
Oregon nodded quietly, the gesture obscured by her ducking down to avoid a spiral of rebar jutting angrily from the wall.
As they reached the end, the cave opened up, bright light pouring in fully on the pair, causing Oregon to shield her eyes as Iowa slowed to a stop in the waters outside the maw, taking a victorious breath of clearer salty ocean air, Iowa stole a glance at her sister, she felt some pride at the look of relief on her face as well.
"Oh hey, San Juan!" The familiar voice of Haggard called from the pair's right flank, "Iowa's not dead. Looks like she's got a thing. I don't think it's dead either."
"Hey Haggard." Iowa deadpanned, "good to see you too."
"That's Haggard, she's a little shit." Iowa explained aside, attempting to disarm the angry look growing on Oregon's face following the destroyer's casual outburst, "she doesn't mean anything by what she says."
Behind Haggard, the rest of the troop steamed up, looking significantly more supportive than the destroyer. Leading the group, Franks offered an excited wave, which Iowa returned with a bright smile, her hands currently occupied.
San Juan accelerated, taking lead over the other escorts and coasting to a well timed stop in front of the two Battleships, "Iowa.," She nodded, addressing the younger of the two, "good to see you in one piece." Turning to the elder, she offered a her hand. "CL fifty four, USS San Juan."
Oregon glanced at the hand offered, her expression blank. Grabbing it she shook lightly and answered plainly, "Battleship number three, Oregon."
If San Juan was slighted by the disinterest of the battleship, she didn't show it, instead turning to the destroyers behind her pointing to each as she names them, "Haggard, Franks, and Hailey, they're our posts anti-submarine and Anti-Air specialists."
Oregon gave a light nod in response to the various waves and expressions exchanged by the destroyers.
"So you two know each other?" San Juan asked idley. Pulling her headset and Morse code set from the depths of her rigging.
Iowa laughed, "she's my older sister."
"Well that's a pretty definitive 'yes'," the light cruiser relented, hammering the set, "I know me and 'lanta go back a ways."
Iowa grinned, ready to regail her escorts with stories of the Spanish American war when Hailey interrupted with a confused tone. "Wait. Time out." The destroyer called, impersonating a referee's hand gesture for the call, "I thought you were an 'Iowa class', how does a nameship have a sister?"
"My class was an improvement, over hers," Iowa answered, giving the battleship she was supporting a teasing look, "She, Massachusetts, and Indiana still have quite a few similarities in design with me. I guess that's make us half sisters? Maybe three quarters." She relented, shrugging as best she can with Oregon still over her shoulder.
"Right, sorry to interrupt," San Juan interjected, offering a sympathetic glance over to the Battleship currently being carried. "But we're probably about due to head out." The light cruiser tossed her headset back into the inexplicably large storage space in her rigging. "Also, Iowa, be sure to remind me to explain to you why 'three quarters sister' isn't an expression."
Iowa just offered another half shrug from under Oregon and a sheepish look.
"Right. Same cruising formation," San Juan announced, taking head of the formation, I need active scanning of surface, air, and subsurface, if anything so much a reaches out and touches the Battleships, I'm picking it up and beating you with it, until I'm positive you remember what an escort is supposed to do."
The destroyers, encouraged by her enthusiasm offered a chorus of affirmatives, splitting into their protective spots around Iowa and her sister.
"Come on sis, it's just a short ways."
Oregon nodded, her eyelids growing heavy as she felt safe for the first time in days, her body demanding rest as the stress and interrupted sleep from her ordeal came flooding back to her.
=XxX=
She returned to consciousness in a haze, not the cold aching haze of stolen sleep, but the gradual relaxing waking that comes from a warm bed, comfortable sheets, and a pleasant cool breeze flowing in from the window next to her.
The battleship rolled over, pulling her blankets over herself as her dreamlike state was interrupted by a weak biting in her stomach, her hull complaining angrily over the supply shortages that she had put in the back of her mind. The angry squeaking debate between her quartermaster and bridge crew that she'd been ignoring for the past few days did little to help her return to peace.
She sighed audibly, interrupting the frantic squeaks that were fiercely arguing amongst each other and sat up, analyzing the room she found herself in.
It was plain in appearance, a small dormitory, though spacious enough to hold the limited possessions of her companion and more. Though aside from the hastily folded uniforms of her sister and a large American flag bearing a few too many stars for her liking the room seemed strangely sterile. The only real item of interest was currently resting upon the side table next to her bed. On the table a large plate resided, stacked high with a great mountain of pancakes and, resplendent with a side of bacon glistened beautifully in the morning sun.
She reached out, eyes hungrily devouring the delicious stack before settling again on the piece of paper tucked underneath the plate. Wearily glancing between the pancakes and the note she sighed again and decided to take what she seemed as a more proper approach, grabbing the note, she scanned the text, learning something she never would have known about her sister in her steel form, namingly the terrible handwriting Oregon struggled to work out.
Oregon!
If you're reading this, I managed to miss you, but don't fear, I'll be back soon! I left you a little pick me up to get your day started! Don't worry, there's always more in the mess hall, the signs should lead there!
-Iowa
Oregon eyed the plate dubiously, reading over the part about needing more food over again as she took in the volume of the pancakes. Finally the questions were abandoned as a painful growl from her stomach harassed the battleship's thoughts. Hoisting herself up, she decided such ponderings were better left until after she had the coal to move again.
Stepping out of the room, the battleship was still unsteady on her feet, bobbing and weaving her way down the halls, one hand held tentatively up to her flank to stop herself should she fall, several sailors had already approached to offer help and were rebuked with angry glares as the battleship made her way down the hallway.
"Um-he-hello?" A soft voice called out from behind the battleship. The woman's irate expression causing it to follow with a nervous squeal.
"I'm fine." Oregon stated matter of factly, placing greater effort into her walking and managing somehow to stumble a little bit more instead.
From behind her, Franks gathered her courage and pushed out, speeding up to trail behind the battleship's flank. "It's just-uh." She began nervously, "Miss Iowa wanted me to make sure you were okay."
Oregon stopped, glancing back towards the destroyer again, her expression near neutral save the slightest hint of amusement in the form of an upward tic on the edges of her mouth "That seems like something she'd do." She admitted with a sigh. "I was looking for the mess hall."
The girl seemed to brighten at Oregon relenting, nodding happily, "you're actually going the wrong way!" She declares, pointing down the hallway in the opposite direction and offering a hand to the battleship, "come on!"
Oregon hesitated slightly before accepting, taking Franks's hand and allowing herself to be led down the hallway, by the bubbly destroyer.
"So, Iowa is your younger sister?" Franks asked, pulling the battleship along down the tiled hallways and through various groups of sailors and Shipgirls.
"Younger." Oregon replied tersely, noting privately that conversation with a new ship was not coming naturally to her, "Indiana class, youngest of four."
Franks nodded, "I'm the oldest of my close service sisters here, but I'm a bit of a middle child as most Fletchers are." She shrugged, "I've got a lot of sisters."
Oregon interrupted her stern and withering gaze on a sailor that nearly bumped into the pair to offer a curious expression to the destroyer, "how many?"
"One hundred and seventy four." She replied matter of factly, drawing a surprised look from the battleship. Haggard laughed in response, "I like to think it means we're well liked and it's always nice to be able to go to a new post and have all the destroyers be your friends already, at least for the most part."
Oregon said nothing her thoughts interrupted and she chose instead to study the matter of fact government issued sign bearing the word "cafeteria", on it. Franks gave the larger ship a slightly nervous look at being ignored but continued to lead on.
The smell that greeting the pair upon pushing the door open caused the battleship to salivate in a most unladylike manner, noticing only in the back of her mind that the destroyer had dropped her hand and was gesturing to the food."
"Its-um self serve. A lot better than what we used to have in our canteens, though according to the Navy guys we get nicer food than them, so maybe chow hasn't changed that much."
Oregon nodded, needing little instruction to grab a waiting tray and pile it high with mountains of bacon, eggs, and toast, privately she wondered if the amount of food was excessive but the small squeaking voice of her quartermaster had continued to scream at her for resupply even after the pancakes and had she bothered listening to it while she continued to pile food now, she would have noticed that it continued to scream that she was still not taking enough.
Slamming a heavy chunk of ham onto her tray, Oregon did an about face, scanning the crowd of the room for any familiar faces. But the few assembled Shipgirls, save for the pair of destroyers in the corner were all unfamiliar, giving either polite smiles at her expression or stealing glances at the new face when they assumed she wasn't looking. Her expression doured slightly when she realized her sister was not in the cafeteria and chose to answer the nervous waves of Franks, sitting down next to her and her sister with the heavy thud of her tray.
Hailey glanced wide eyed at the tray as if startled by the noise, "I'll never get used to battleships." She muttered to herself.
Franks gave a shy laugh, "Oregon, this is my sister Hailey," she announced, gesturing towards the ship that indeed bore a sisterly resemblance, "you met earlier but um- I don't think it was a good time for introductions."
Oregon swallowed a mouth full of eggs and toast, giving a polite, "USS Oregon, a pleasure." Before stealing another mouthful.
"Holding up well?" Hailey asked politely.
"Managing." Oregon muttered, "in truth, I was hoping to see my sister some more, do you know where she is?"
Hailey gave a glance around the room as if to avoid prying ears. "Well, you didn't hear this from us," she muttered, clearly excited to have gossip to spread. "But the rumor mill says you're getting put In a new squadron together with some other ships."
Oregon smiled a joyful half smile, "are they other early battleship's?" she asked, hopefully.
Hailey shrugged, "if they are the rumor mill has said nothing on America getting new battleships and we're destroyers, we've got the best source of news out there."
"Yeah!" Franks agreed, "don't listen to the submarines, all they do is gossip! We're nearly always right."
"Most of the time." Hailey corrected, "not quite all."
"Over half!" Franks defended.
"Eh, at least over a quarter," her sister teased.
Oregon laughed quietly to herself and grabbed another fork load of eggs.
"We'll keep an ear out though!" Hailey promised, "we weren't the best picket ships in the war 'cause we sat around and did nothing," she bragged through a mouthful of breakfast.
Oregon smiled slightly with appreciation, but said nothing, drawing a lengthy silence that the battleship seemed unconcerned by, but while it drew on it began to noticeably aggravate the more excitable escorts.
"So we can show you around when you're done." Hailey interjected with a smile,
Franks nodded, "there's a lot of fun stuff here, the made some neat inventions since the war ended, like video games."
"Which you're terrible at," Hailey teased.
"Only because you cheated." Franks glared, pointing an accusatory forkful of fruit at her sister.
Hailey shrugged coily, offering her sister no further response, instead turning to address the battleship. "it might be fun to poke around a bit and see the base. 'sides, when she's done with whatever she's doing I bet Iowa will want to take you to the commander to talk about jobs. It's no big deal, the commander just likes to discuss how you fit into this Navy, but it sounds like she's already got something figured out."
Oregon froze, the fork still in the air between her mouth and the plate, her expression deepening intensely.
Hailey's smile began to wane slightly and she noticed her sister fidget uncomfortably at the change of tone from the previously content battleship.
"Actually." Oregon began with seriousness, "I'd like to talk to the commander without Iowa, I'd appreciate if you could take me there."