Yokosuka Naval District, July 4, 2018
Johnston suspected that something big was happening when Dakota summoned every US ship girl to a briefing room. That notion was cemented when she saw that a good number of the Japanese girls were already in the room. She only recognized a few by name—including Fubuki, and crazy Kongou—the rest were new to her. She could tell by looking at their faces, that they had just as much idea as to the point of this as the Americans. Johnston's questions were answered in short order when Dakota walked up to the front of the room. "Now I know you're all wondering why I asked you here today," she began.
And was immediately interrupted by O'Bannon yelling, "No dip, Sherlock."
Which resulted in Nicholas punching her sister in the shoulder and barking, "Quiet, you."
Dakota stood in silence, waiting for the destroyers to resolve their problems, then continued, "We've been given a mission, one of the highest priority. One of the aircraft carriers currently in Yokosuka, the Theodore Roosevelt, has been recalled back to Pearl Harbor, and we've been assigned as her escorts." There was complete silence in the room as the girls were stunned speechless. Dakota continued, "We've asked for help from the Japanese for this one, and they've agreed to give it to us."
"What does that mean?" Hornet asked from the back of the room.
One of the Japanese girls—Nagato Johnston remembered—stood up and said, "It means, a detachment of our kanmusu will be assigned to work with you. The kanmusu in this room are the ones assigned to the mission."
"Apparently the White House felt that we could use their assistance," Dakota added.
"More like they didn't think we were good enough to guard their precious carrier, so they leaned on the Japanese to lend us a few of their girls. They being O, so much better than we are," O'Bannon growled.
"You just don't stop, do you?" Nick asked, shooting O'Bannon a scathing glare.
"That's two comebacks in five minutes," Atlanta broke in, "Three more and you'll break your record."
"What, we're keeping score now? You must think I'm really something then."
"Three."
"Would you lot, shut the hell up," Salt Lake snapped, "This is important, and I would like to not die because O'Bannon was too busy trying to make funny."
"Sorry," Atlanta replied, looking down at the floor.
"Hey, I can't help being amazing. I just am," O'Bannon said, folding her hands over her chest.
"Five."
"That's it, Salt Lake was right, this is too damn important for your constant jokes. If this carrier doesn't reach Pearl, then the entire west coast will be unguarded," Dakota bellowed, her face red with outrage. The entire room went silent, and it took Dakota a moment to realize what she had just said.
"Your Navy is really spread that much?" asked Kongou, her head cocked.
Dakota replied, her voice heavy with emotion, "There aren't any carriers on the west coast. The last one was sunk some weeks ago. Roosevelt is going to be rotated into the area, but she needs to go to Pearl to be refit. So you see how important this is? We're making a move to defend the civilians of America."
The silence remained until Johnston spoke up, "When do we go?"
"In about ten hours," Nagato replied, "The mission begins as soon as the Roosevelt battlegroupcompletes its replenishment."
Dakota added, her voice still somewhat ragged, "Besides the girls in this room, we'll have a bit more support than normal. The TR's bringing her destroyers and cruisers, and her captain assures me that their F-18s will be on hand to fly combat sorties."
"The F-18 can't target the Abyssals, should we be putting them in danger like that?" Pensacola asked.
"There's a bit more to that," Dakota replied, "But the TR's skipper will go over that once we board his ship."
Nagato spoke next, "I shall not be joining you for this endeavor. My services are required on this base, and I cannot abandon them."
"So, what now, boss?" asked Hornet, "Say the word and I can be ready to go in half an hour."
"Then consider that word given," Dakota said, "Round up your gear everyone, we'll be heading over to the US side of the base in two hours. Muster outside the headquarters here. There'll be a couple Humvees there to take use over there."
Nagato added, "This also applies for the kanmusu of this district."
Dakota nodded, then said, "Everyone but the squadron leaders are dismissed, good luck everyone." Johnston stood up to leave with the throng of girls. She had barely stepped out of the headquarters, when Radford ran up next to her.
"Hey, Johnston, wait up," she said.
"What is it?"
"How dangerous do you think this'll be? I heard that the Abyssals go after our carriers with everything they have. You've seen impossible odds before, do we have a chance?" Radford asked, her voice nearly breaking. Johnston reached up and put a hand on Radford's shoulder.
"You'll be saying hello to your sister in no time, I promise."
"You really think that?"
"We'll have the combined power of two nations, plus one of the most powerful warships ever put to sea backing us up, do I have to answer that question? Now, do I think it will be hard, absolutely. You're right, the Abyssals are going to throw everything they have at the TR, so that means we have to stop them. You heard what Dakota said would be at stake."
Radford let out a smile, "You're right, we'll just have to fight harder, and once we get past this I can see Fletcher again."
"And maybe, by the time we get back, my sisters will be back as well," Johnston said, her voice wistful, "Come on, I've got stuff to pack, and I'm sure you do too." Johnston continued walking to her room, Radford following close behind.
Sydney Australia
Wahoo was silently thankful that their time in Australia was coming to an end. The sooner they left here, the sooner her girls would stop causing trouble. She also found herself missing the quarters they had built on Submarine Island. Well, just a few more hours, then they would be off for home. "Miss Wahoo, a word if you would," Wahoo looked up to see the battleship that was running this show, Prince of Wales she remembered.
"What did they do this time?" Wahoo replied, asking the question she knew was about to come.
"Oh, no your girls have been fine. That's not why I'm here. I have someone here who would like to talk to you," Wales said. The battleship stepped to the side, and a man with a thin face and thinning hair walked into the room.
"And you would be?" Wahoo asked.
"Clayton Webb, I'm on the ambassador's staff," the man said, sticking out his hand.
"Pleased to meet you Mr. Webb," Wahoo said, taking the man's hand, "What is it that you wanted to see me about?"
Webb turned to look at Wales, "Could you excuse us, miss?"
"Of course," Wales said, then walked out of the room, turning back to add, "Good luck Ms. Wahoo."
Webb waited until the door shut, then said, "I bet you figured I'm not actually from the US Embassy."
"That was rather obvious, OSS?"
"Their successors actually, CIA."
"What does the CIA want with me?" Wahoo asked, intrigued.
"Your help, and the help of your submarines."
"What could you possible need my help with?" Wahoo asked. Webb didn't reply, instead he placed a briefcase on the bed and snapped off the latches. A moment later he pulled out a few photographs and arrayed them out on the bed for Wahoo to see.
"These are shots one of our Keyholes took a few days ago," Webb explained, "As you can see, we spotted an Abyssal base in the South Pacific."
Wahoo held up a hand, stopping Webb in the middle of his explanation, "Keyhole?"
"Spy satellite, think of it as a recon plane that flies a whole lot higher," Webb explained, "What I want your team to do is get a better look at this island. We've never found one of their bases before, and we want to get a better look at it. If we can get an idea about what their bases look like, then we can come up with a plan to combat them."
"So what, you want us to get a better look at this base?"
"Yes," he replied, then hefted a bag onto the bed, "Here, this might help." Wahoo unzipped the bag, and saw that it contained an expensive looking camera in an even more expensive looking housing.
"What is this?"
"Waterproof camera. Use it to take pictures of the Abyssals," Webb said, taking the camera out of the bag. He held it up and explained, "Turn it on here, and press this to take the pictures. One of our couriers will be on the next flight out of Midway. Drop this off with him, and he'll make sure it gets where it needs to go."
"I'll be sure to do that," Wahoo replied, a bit distracted by the camera she was holding.
"Good luck lieutenant," Webb said as he began to walk out of the room. He suddenly snapped his fingers, and walked back in, "I almost forgot this. You might get into some trouble that you can't get out of that close to the Abyssals, so we called in some favors." He reached in his suit pocket and pulled something out, then tossed it to Wahoo. It was a plastic box, about the size of a pack of cards, with a chunky looking antenna sticking off one end, and a few buttons on the face. She turned it over in her hands several times, trying to figure out what it was. Webb gave a few seconds to look at it, then explained, "It's a satellite locater. Flip it on and we can track you anywhere in the world."
"What is that supposed to do for me?"
"If you set off that signal, it'll let some friends of mine home in on you."
"Friends? What kind of friends?"
"Let's just say someone related, and leave it at that," Webb replied, being intentionally cryptic, "Again, good luck." Webb offered his hand again, and Wahoo took it.
"Thank you Mr. Webb, I think I'll need it." Webb nodded slightly, then walked out of the room, quickly disappearing down the corridor. Wahoo turned the locater over in her hands a few more times, then pocketed the device. She grabbed the camera bag off the bed, then went to go find her girls. She had a new mission brief to give, and boy was this one going to be a doozy. Her gut told her that this was going to be a long week. She would learn later just how right she was.
USS Theodore Roosevelt, Pacific Ocean, July, 7, 2018
It was rather interesting for Hornet to see how far carrier aviation had progressed. This ship was much larger and more powerful than she had ever been, and, as she had been told, the US had possessed at least a dozen of these super carriers. She had managed to talk one of the plane captains into a tour of his aircraft, in this case, an E/A-18 Growler down for maintenance. She had managed to crawl into the cockpit. "Well, what do you think?" asked the plane captain, a twenty-something petty officer.
"Where are all the dials?" she replied. The only thing on the panel in front of her were glass screens, like computer monitors.
The petty officer chuckled, "Things have changed from back in your day. This whole bird is run by computer." Hornet nodded unconsciously, not really paying attention to the man's words. She had discovered that the joystick was free, and was tenuously shoving it around the cockpit. She was so enthralled by her discovery, that she didn't notice when the plane captain was called away.
"So, what can this baby do?" she asked a second later, without looking up.
"Well, judging by the outside, fly faster than it should, carry more ordinance than it should, and be much louder than it has any right to. Just like any other American plane." Hornet looked out to see Zuikaku standing at the bottom of the access ladder. The Japanese carrier was one of those assigned to the mission.
"That's not true," Hornet shot back, "The Wildcat was an amazing plane."
"Who said anything about the Wildcat?" Zuikaku asked, "And that plane was so heavy it couldn't properly turn fight."
"Yeah, and the Zero would burst into flames if you spit at it. Your point?"
"Just that this aircraft is typical of American design, too many superfluous design features."
"Is there a reason for you to be here? Or are you just here to explain your position on aircraft design?" Hornet asked.
"Your commander called for a meeting, and no one knew where you were."
"So you looked in the hangar deck?" Hornet asked, jumping out of the cockpit, and sliding down to the deck.
"Logical place to look for a carrier kanmusu," Zuikaku admitted, shrugging her shoulders.
"So you admit that you're interested in the airplanes?"
"Yes, I'm interested in them, I think that they could have been designed better, but I am interested."
"You said something about a briefing?" Hornet said, trying to change the subject.
"South Dakota is waiting for everyone in the ready room," Zuikaku said, then raised her arm to point the way.
"It's still a beautiful aircraft, by the way," Hornet said as she left the deck.
"Too large in the middle," Zuikaku commented, earning her a nasty look. Hornet shook her head, and walked deeper into the Roosevelt. There were four, and only four, places in this floating city that Hornet knew how to reach, her quarters, the mess deck, the hangar deck, and the squadron ready room that Dakota had co-opted to serve as a briefing room.
Hornet attempted to quietly sneak into the last row of the full room, but was spotted by Dakota, "Nice of you to join us, Hornet."
Hornet froze, and said weakly, "Sorry, ma'am, I was getting a tour of the hangar."
"Taking a peek into a plane I bet," Atlanta quipped, then shut up when Dakota shot her a look.
"Now that our lost carrier has joined us," Dakota began, "Things have been too quiet lately, and the strike group commander is getting jumpy. He wants us to increase the patrol schedule." This statement caused the assembled girls to groan in protest.
"We just got him to back down with the patrol rotation," Nicholas protested, "We can't keep up that 24 hour watch cycle."
"Apparently the admiral in charge seems to think that we can, and has made that an order," Dakota said, holding up her hand to stop the protests before they could begin, "This is above my paygrade now, and I can't stop it. So the new watch bill is going up now. Anything questions before I start the build up?"
"Yeah, I got one," O'Bannon said.
"Oh this is going to be good," Dakota said, a little too loudly, then asked, "Well, are you going to keep us waiting?"
"When are the Abyssals going to attack? I mean really attack, not these cruiser and destroyer divisions they've been throwing at us so far."
"Why don't you ask them?" Pensacola suggested, earning a round of chuckles from the room.
"Now that we are certain that this briefing officially no longer has a purpose," Dakota began, "Dismissed." The assembled girls were just standing up to leave, when the general quarters alarm began to blare.
"Oh, what now?" Johnston asked, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the room.
"Everyone, stay here," Dakota ordered, before running to the nearest 1MC box. After a quick exchange, she ran back to the front of the room, and began, "Well, you jinxed us O'Bannon, Abyssals are here, and in force. Thermal imaging caught no fewer than six battleships, a dozen heavy cruisers, at least two squadrons of DDs, and a pair of carriers." Dakota let that sink in for half a second, before barking, "Let's roll people. Equipment bay, now!"
The room had originally been an auxiliary machine shop. A place to store the backup machine tools for the main shops. It had temporarily handed over to Dakota for her to use for equipping the ship girls. The tools had been shoved against the far bulkhead and secured with tie down straps. Occupying the space where they had been, were racks of storage lockers containing the equipment necessary for the ship girls to wage war. Well, almost all of the equipment. Due to regulation, all ordinance and weapons, had to be stored in one of the Roosevelt's expansive ammo bunkers. The girls had their rigging on quickly, but had to wait several minutes for a team of ordies to wheel their guns and ammo in on a repurposed bomb cart. Girls grabbed their cannons, and began to run.
"Good luck all," Hornet called as girls ran out. She still had to wait a bit longer to wait. The carrier's personal firearm had been stored in the ship's armory with the rest of the small arms, and it, along with Zuikaku's bow, was currently being retrieved by an officer. A man pushed his way through the crowd of equipping ship girls, Hornet's carbine held in one hand, Zuikaku's bow in the other.
"Here, ma'am," he said, tossing the weapon to Hornet. She caught the rifle, and cracked the action open as she had been taught.
A quick check to make sure the chamber was clear, and she called, "Clear." He nodded his concurrence, then handed over her web belt. She could tell by weight alone that it was already filled with her special ammunition.
"Good luck, ma'am," he said, then offered a nod of support.
"We're gonna need it," Hornet said quietly as she slammed a magazine home.
"Stay with me, Hornet. I'll help you," Zuikaku announced as she tested her bow.
"Was planning on it," Hornet looked up, "They're waiting, and we need to go." She slung her rifle, grabbed her flight deck, and ran out of the room.
][][][][][][][][][][][][
Communications Room, NS Midway Island
James Smith had been sitting in the communications room for the last hours. He had ordered regular updates about the Roosevelt'sprogress some time ago, and the latest news wasn't promising. He had staked himself out in a folding chair behind the commo petty officer's desk, waiting to receive news as it came off the radio. He knew he shouldn't be setting this sort of example for the girls, but he just couldn't tear himself away. He must have dozed off at some point, because he found himself being shaken awake. "I haven't seen you like this in years, James, not since the war began." Smith looked up to see his wife holding his shoulder. "Your dedication to your friends is one of the reasons I fell in love with you, did you know that?"
"They're out there somewhere, fighting for their lives, and I'm here. In an air conditioned room, that couldn't be farther from battle," Smith said, shaking the remaining vestiges of sleep from his body.
"They'll be fine, you trained them well," Sarah reassured.
"It's just…" Smith began, then took a breath and tried again, "I should be out there with them. I should be on the conn of one of those ships. I'm a SWO, not whatever the hell I've turned into. My place is on the bridge of a ship, not behind a desk."
"Chester Nimitz spent the entire war behind a desk," Smith looked over to see Enterprise standing behind his wife, "Bill Halsey might have spent the war with Third Fleet, but he did so from a command room, far from the action. Sir, you've done an amazing job, and you need to trust them to do their job."
"Thanks, Enterprise, I needed that," Smith said, still not fully believing his XO's words.
"What's the word?" Sarah asked, changing the subject.
"Still nothing. We heard they were engaging the Abyssals, but that was thirty minutes ago, and the current silence has not been promising."
"We'll hear soon, sir. Dakota would never let anything happen to that carrier," Enterprise reassured, earning her a slight nod from Smith.
"Sir," interrupted the radioman, "We're getting something."
"Thank you," Smith said, then bounded over to the computer monitor that was displaying the dispatch.
[][[][][][][][][]
USS Theodore Roosevelt
Things were beginning to degrade, rapidly. An early suicide rush by a squadron of Abyssal destroyers had broken through the ship girl's tenuous defensive line, and had just barely been stopped from launching their torpedoes by the quick thinking of a Ticonderoga class cruiser. Before they could even catch their breath from the first attack, a thrust a group of heavy cruisers and battleships had attempted to push through on the other side of the task group. Salt Lake's group had been forced to take the brunt of that assault, and had managed to turn it back at the last moment, with a cost.
Pensacola had taken the full brunt of a battleship salvo, and was forced to retreat in order to receive medical attention. Atlanta had lost two of her turrets to a cruiser salvo, and one of Northampton's turbines had been disabled. Now Salt Lake was forced to hold the line with an understrength division. The Japanese cruisers were trying to help, but there was just too much open sea to go around.
All of this was secondary for Hornet. She had her own problems to deal with, namely, the enemy carriers. Save for the opening minutes of the battle, the opposing carriers had not showed themselves once. Hornet knew that they were there, she just had no idea where they were, or when they would make their presence known. "I still think this is weird. You said you've never seen them hold off for this long?" Hornet raised her rifle to firing position and let a round fly, sending a squadron of Wildcat fighters into the air. She seamlessly lifted her flight deck up and recovered the spent squadron of fighters.
"It is strange," Zuikaku admitted, launching a flight of dive bombers, "Usually whenever carriers are involved, we see their fighters first. Maybe they're holding off to see what you supercarrier does."
Hornet was going to say something, but Dakota came in over the radio and cut her off, "Hey, Hornet, you see anything?" Hornet silently passed the question on to her scout bomber squadron, who were circling high above the battlefield, keeping an eye on things.
A second later, she replied, "Nope, just those two battlewagons are trying to make a push into that gap to our starboard."
"Yeah, I've got Kongou moving her sisters to fill that one," Dakota replied, "I mean, have you seen those carriers yet? No one has been able to spot them yet."
"No, I haven't seen them once."
"I thought Abyssal carriers were always the first to attack. Has Zuikaku ever seen this tactic before?" Hornet mouthed the question to Zuikaku, who had been listening in over her own radio. The Japanese carrier shrugged, then shook her head.
"Zuikaku says she doesn't know. She's only ever seen the Abyssals attack via full frontal assault. This sneaky sneaky thing is new."
"Well, that takes a load off my mind," Dakota said, sarcastically, "We get the Abyssals that are doing things no one's ever seen before, brilliant. Keep me posted, Hornet, and keep those planes flying."
"Will do," Hornet replied.
"What was the point of that?" Zuikaku asked, "You've already told her about every Abyssal you see. Wasn't there no point for that?"
"She's worried about this whole carrier thing," Hornet replied.
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Because I'm worried about the carriers," Hornet said, making an exaggerated gesture to herself. A report from one of her scouts stopped that line of thought. "Two more battlewagons just showed up."
"Where?"
"Near our destroyer's sector. They're going to need help."
"Sending some bombers." Hornet watch though her scouts as a flight of green painted dive bombers peeled out of their patrol and headed toward Nicholas' division. She could see that they were in trouble. The little destroyers were maneuvering heavily to dodge the shells being lobbed at them. There was a pair of Abyssal battleships trying to make an end run on the rear of the strike group, and the only group in that area was Nick's division.
Nicholas was already screaming over the tac-net, "Where is my support? I'm getting torn up out here."
Hornet jumped on to reassure her, "Bombers are on the way, just hold on for a few more minutes." She watched Zuikaku's dive bombers begin their runs on the batteships. The greed painted planes released their ordinance, scoring several hits.
"Call the hits, please," Zuikaku asked.
"Good hits, good hits," Nicholas yelled, "Waiting for status on the target." Hornet could see the ball of smoke around the two battleships, and watching with the same level of apprehension as the destroyers. "They're still up," Nicholas shouted after the smoke had cleared. Hornet was horrified to see that both battleships were still standing, and still firing. "Can you do another run?"
"My bombers are returning, I'm down for twenty minutes," Zuikaku explained.
"I could launch but it would take them at least that long for them to reach you," Hornet said, desperately trying to work the math out in her head in a way that would work, but coming up short every time.
Dakota came over the net next, "Are there any other assets nearby that could assist?"
"I'm engaged," Salt Lake stated, "I can't break contact." Hornet could hear the distinct sound of shellfire in the background of Salt Lake's transmission.
"Sorry, we have a battleship of our own to fight. Maybe next time," replied Kongou.
"If no one can get these bastards off my back, then I'm going to have to disengage," Nicholas said, her voice sounding ragged. Hornet sighed, preparing her own bombers for launch, knowing that they wouldn't get to Nicholas' position in time, but she didn't know who else could help. A new voice came on the channel and it took Hornet a minute to recognize it. The ship girl tac-net had been set up in a way similar to all military radio systems, with one channel connecting Dakota to all of her division commanders, and multiple channels connecting the division commanders with their divisions. What was interesting was the fact that the command channel also was tied into the operations room aboard the Roosevelt. So when the voice of Captain Lee Jones came onto the tac-net, Hornet was confused for several seconds
"Dakota, Halsey's in that sector. If you request, I can have birds away in five minutes." Hornet had completely forgotten that the destroyer that had served as their mobile base all the way from Midway to Yokosuka had tagged along with the strike group. Something about her being the only ship in the area with the laser designation system aboard.
"Halsey, if you can prosecute the target, then by all means, fire," Dakota came back on.
"Halsey acknowledges the weapons release, and is breaking formation now." Hornet scanned the formation of regular ships, trying to find the Burke class destroyer that was coming to rescue her friends. It took her a second to spot it. The Halsey was the only ship in the formation turning hard over at flank speed.
"We'll try to keep them off you Halsey, but were fall back at any time," Nicholas stated.
"Acknowledged, we're launching now." Hornet didn't need the feed from her aircraft to see the next part. A great ball of flame illuminated the foredeck of the Halsey and a missile leaped skyward on a column of flame. It was quickly followed by another, and another. Soon at least half a dozen of the guided rockets were in the air. It only took a few seconds for the AGM-114 Hellfire missiles to reach the end of their trajectories.
The destroyer had been targeting the closer of the two battleships with its laser, and Hornet watched as the missiles dove on the unassuming target, only to envelope it in another ball of flame and smoke. This time, however, there was no more battleship when the smoke cleared. The Halsey wasted no time switching to the second target, loosing another salvo of missiles at that ship. These also struck home with the deadly precision of smart weapons, and sent one more battleship to the bottom.
Nicholas practically whooped with joy when she came over the radio, "Good hits, Halsey. You nailed them."
"Roger that, Nicholas, do you have any wounded in need of medical transport?"
"Negative, Halsey a couple bruise and scratches, but nothing major."
"We'll stay on station with you for the next ten minutes, just to be sure," Jones announced.
"Thanks for the help, Halsey," Nicholas began, then asked, suddenly, "Dakota, do we have eyes on those carriers?"
"No, they dropped off the scope towards the start of the fight, why?"
"Because about three squadrons of Abyssal aircraft just buzzed over my head, and they're headed for the TR." Hornet's blood ran cold, how could she have missed that? Her whole mission was to stop the enemy carriers from getting their air wings anywhere close to the Roosevelt, and she had screwed up.
"I'm vectoring my CAP now," she said, doing what she could for the moment. The squadron of Wildcats circling the battlefield, winged over and dove towards the approaching Abyssals. With luck, they could intercept them before they attacked the Roosevelt, but only time, and murphy, would tell.
[][][[][][
Somewhere in the South Pacific, 2100hrs
"I'm starting to wonder why I was ever talked into this," Wahoo said, too scared to let her voice rise above a whisper
"It's just a bit of sneaking, skipper. The girls do this sort of thing all the time," Tang commented, "What with all the sneaking around supply rooms, warehouses, and officers clu…"
"I don't want to know," Wahoo said, her hand outstretched. She pointed through the darkness towards the lump of an island they were supposed to be investigating. "We have to get close to that beehive of Abyssals, and take pictures. How?"
"Maybe what we need is a little, 'reconnaissance in force'," Harder suggested. Then held something up for Wahoo to investigate.
"Where did you get that?" Wahoo asked, pointing to what was clearly a satchel charge held in Harder's hand.
"When you said we'd be working for the spooks, I figured some heavy artillery was in order. Place one of these babies on top of a torpedo, and quick as that, time bomb."
"Are you actually suggesting we invade that island, plant charges, and blow them?" Wahoo asked, a grin forming on her face.
"All while taking the pictures those spooks so desperately want."
"It's just like what old Lucky Fluckey did with the train," Sealion added, "It's a tradition for us submarines."
"A damned dangerous tradition if you ask me, but I agree. We need to hit this base after we get the intel," Wahoo stated, "How many of the satchels bombs do you have, Harder?"
"I've got three, Lion here has another three, and the twins have two apiece,
Harder replied.
"Set them up with one torpedo each, and give me and the XO one." Harder tossed the charge to Wahoo, who caught it in midair. "Set them all for 2200, and blow up anything that looks important. When these things go off, we are off the island and diving, sabe? Then let's go." The island was even more dark and foreboding from up close. The sheer aura of evil radiating off this rock was almost overpowering. Wahoo could tell that it had been lush and forested, once. Now all that was left were several acres of dead trees.
The girls came ashore on the far side of the island, hoping to put the landmass between themselves and whatever installations the Abyssals had. They moved in silence though the dead forest, using only hand signals to communicate. Wahoo found a ridgeline overlooking what had to be the main base. It was little more than several organic looking structures, a pile of rusty oil drums, a set of piers, a few things that looked like destroyer types roving a perimeter, and what had to be an Abyssal princess sitting near the shore, facing the sea. The whole area was lit by some sort of otherworldly glow that made Wahoo's skin crawl by just looking at it.
She brought up Webb's camera without a word, and began to click the shutter button. "Harder," she said, her voice as quiet as she could make it, "Try the oil drums first." Harder nodded, then began to walk off, before being grabbed by Wahoo, "And get a look inside one of those buildings if you can." The sub girl nodded, then melted into the darkness. "Sealion," Wahoo said next, "Want to try putting a charge under the dock?"
"I'm game, skipper," she said, before heading down to the waterline.
"What do we do, skipper?" Tang asked.
"Unless you want to go try to tangle with those destroyers, then I suggest we sit tight." Tang nodded, then pressed herself even close into the ground. It only took Sealion a few minutes to affix one of the demo charges under the dock.
She walked back up to the group, and announced, "Done, skipper, and that princess thing was sitting on the far dock, so we may get her in the blast."
"One can only hope." Harder was gone far longer. Wahoo was about to send someone after her, when she appeared, breathless.
'What's up with you?" asked Dace.
"Oil drums are full of bunker fuel," Harder wheezed, "Sheds are full of supplies. Ammo, parts, steel."
"Why did you run back to tell us that?" Tang asked, curious.
"All of it's from ships," Harder said, "These fuckers have not only been sinking ships, they've been cutting them up for parts as well." The realization shocked all of them. To not only be destroyed by these monsters, but to have your proverbially warm body cannibalized to further their war effort, it as sickening. "That's not the worst part, there are bodies in there. Probably crew that went down with the ships. The fucks have them lined up in there, and they're doing God knows what to them." That news caused something to snap inside Wahoo, and she didn't really know what it was.
"The plan has changed," she said, her voice chillingly quiet, "Burn the place to the ground. Kill every last one of those bastards."
"Aye aye, ma'am," Harder said, her mood lifting significantly.
"We still do it quiet," Wahoo said, "But I want that place so wired with explosives, that it could end up on the far side of the moon when we torch the fuse. Harder, take Sealion and lay the rest of your charges. Dace, Darter you take yours and wire the docks. If you can, make damn sure that princess goes up in the kaboom."
"Aye, ma'am," Dace said, then ran off, her sister in tow.
"We'll be back soon, skipper," Harder said, before running off herself. Wahoo stayed on the ridge keeping lookout over this whole affair, constantly keeping one hand on her 3" cannon. She kept checking her watch, noting that the timer for the satchel charges was rapidly approaching. Dace and Darter came back first, their task being the easier of the two, and nodded to indicate that they had succeeded. Wahoo waited for Harder and Sealion for several more minutes, and what about to go get her, when the pair ran up and collapsed in the mud.
When the submarine girls had first approached the Abyssal base—was a better term—they had noticed the perimeter guards immediately, but they were walking the same patch in the same time interval. Wahoo had assumed that security was of little concern to the Abyssals, so those guards were the only security they had. She hadn't expected for there to be a roving patrol in the woods, and these guards were very much of the, 'shoot first ask questions never' variety. The only indication that she got that there were now Abyssals behind them, was when the first shell flew overhead.
This shot served two purposes, besides the original of trying to kill things, it alerted Wahoo to the guard's presence, and it alerted everyone on the base to Wahoo's presence. She wasted no time in flipping over and firing a round into the nearest dark shape. Whether or not she hit something was irrelevant, they needed covering fire to escape. "Run for the water," she shouted, all pretense of stealth being thrown out the window, "The base blows in five minutes, go go go." The submarine girls ran as fast as they could with several dozen Abyssals now on their tails, firing as they went, and hitting nothing in typical Abyssal style.
Wahoo didn't see as the time ticked to 2300, but she certainly felt it. The detonation of the charges almost knocked her off her feet, and she could see a towering plume of smoke and fire rose into the sky. But there was no time for celebration, their pursuers seemed little interested in the death of their comrades, and didn't stop chasing the fleeing subs. Dace and Darter reached the shoreline first, and dive in headfirst. Diving as soon as the water was deep enough. Harder paused on the beach as Wahoo ran over, only to be ordered, "Go on, I'm right behind you.
Tang and Wahoo were the last ones off the island, and Wahoo threw her charge over her shoulder as one last parting gift. Tang went into the water and Wahoo quickly followed, making sure she was the last one to leave the island. She looked over her shoulder as The Abyssal guards broke out of the tree line, and began to fire at the two subs. Wahoo thought that they had just made it, when she saw one of the rounds impact with Tang. The other sub jerked, and was thrown back about two feet. The last charge detonated, killing the remaining Abyssals, as Wahoo ran over to grab her injured comrade. The fact that they had just single handedly wiped out the base didn't matter one bit in her mind. Getting Tang to safety was all that mattered now.
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A/N:
That's finally done. Major action chapter this time around as I begin to wrap up this arc. Expect the continuation next chapter.
Since I actually like doing this, review replies:
SulliMike23: You'll have to wait and see on that one.
Thorthemighty321: News of the war's progress and the homefront is going to come out slowly, as most of it is flavortext and I was trying to avoid too much worldbuilding.
Colonel AmiruddinArifSulaiman: Iowa probably won't show up until the next arc at the latest. She's going to be in dry dock for several weeks.
still-guns: Thank you, hope this one is too.
Wolfman-053: Off screen, a few weeks ago. I tend not to go into every single girl who comes back just so I don't overload on characters. As if I don't have enough of that already.
IrohLegoman: Good luck to you sir, and I hope to see you around the fleet someday.
Guest: Part of my whole reason for writing this stuff is to get better at writing.
Advancer231: My hard limit is 5000 words per chapter, and I'm amazed as well that I've managed to write this much. As to the Iowa's, who said they won't appear as ship girls someday… I'm also dealing with the museum ships a lot more in the spin off, mainly because most of the musuems were Atlantic ships.