So what if the human saw her naked? The Crossroads Fleet subs hadn't had a problem being seen, and Trinitite had seen practically everyone in the drydocks at one point or another. Obviously clothes had utility, but stripping to change wasn't a big deal, right?

She wasn't nude now, though. The white 'tank top' (part of Trinitite wondered what the garment had to do with liquid storage or armored vehicles) fit snugly on her torso, a pile of similar clothes scattered on the floor around her.

Not for a lack of trying. It turned out Trinitite didn't have an eye for size, and the tops around her had all either been too loose or burst as she'd tried to don them. She'd quickly discovered the size information printed on each tank top, but not before several had already been lost. This one almost seemed okay, but…

The carrier frowned, experimentally bouncing on a foot. Hmm. Arms raised above her shoulders, she twisted rapidly to one side, before suddenly stopping and twisting the other way. Huh.

She couldn't fight like this. Trinitite knew several abyssals did just fine without anything keeping their breasts steady, but without her suit keeping them in place the odd momentum was throwing her off. The top didn't help nearly enough, and the tighter ones she could fit into were just cut too low to help.

The flaw in the tank top's design seemed glaringly obvious, but people apparently traded for them in droves. Trinitite had to be missing something.

"Done destroying my clothes?" The manager asked. She still refused to look at the abyssal, despite the fact Trinitite was wearing something.

"Maybe?" The Wo wavered, pulling softly on the top. "Most of it fits, but…" She trailed off, staring downwards.

The human finally turned to look at Trinitite.

"Not enough support?"

"Yeah." Trinitite nodded, cupping her fuel bunkers. "That's a good word for it."

"Alright." With a sigh, the human stood, making her way deeper into the clothing section and motioning for her to follow. "We're getting you underwear."

Trinitite stared back into the mirror, her engineers desperately working to relieve the pressure in her active boiler while a blush stained her cheeks steel-grey. When the human had asked for The Abyssal's measurements, she hadn't been impressed by her answer. How was she supposed to know the manager couldn't use length, beam, and draft information?

Then she produced that tape measure. It wasn't true by a long shot, but Trinitite felt like every inch of the carrier had experienced the uncomfortable feeling of the human's stupid-warm hands or the cursed tool digging into her flesh. The human's attitude on nakedness made a little more sense, now. The bra and panties she'd been given certainly didn't feel like enough coverage around the woman.

She'd never been handled like that before. She was no stranger to contact, from the soft affection of her mother and sisters, and the congratulatory slaps and pats of her late comrades, to obviously the attacks of enemies, but none of it had been so… comprehensive. What if she'd been less impersonal? What if she'd touched even more? At what point would Trinitite have stopped her?

"Does it fit well?"

"Eep!"

Trinitite jumped, almost summoning her rigging as she turned. The human wasn't visible, leaning against a wall just outside the changing 'room'. She'd left the door open, to prevent the human from making a run for it, but now realized the manager easily could have slipped away while The Wo was feeling compromised. Just what in the deep had gotten to her?

"I… think it does?" Trinitite replied, realizing she hadn't answered yet.

The human came around the corner, placing her hands on her hips as she appraised the abyssal's undergarments.

"It does." The human nodded, her eyes tracing Trinitite like a hostile submarine's periscope. "We don't size people much. Good to know I got your measurements right the first time."

Trinitite twinged. The first time?

"You won't have to do it again?"

"No." She sighed, leaning back against the door. "You can go on with your pillaging."

When it came to underwear, there was plenty of variety. Different colors, different cuts, and different intended purposes, but Trinitite had absolutely no interest in experimenting. Not with the human right behind her. Still, she would want to determine optimal undergarments later, so she stowed everything in the underwear section that matched the sizes the manager had given her. Everything, including several socks and tights she was fairly sure wouldn't fit anyways.

Sure, the human had technically done Trinitite a service, but she wasn't going to consider that incident a good deed any time soon. Cleaning the warehouse's inventory seemed a suitably petty revenge. The manager's suppressed protests weren't as satisfying as she'd thought they'd be, but it was something.

It was back to tops, then. Specifically, T-shirts. Like the food items, the human camouflage, and some of the pants she'd seen, they were folded up on shelves, a colorful and tidy display. Unfortunately, that meant The Wo had to unfold each one in a stack until she found one with her size information. She'd tried refolding a few of the shirts, but after several sloppy or destructive attempts The abyssal resorted to wadding unusable shirts up and tossing them aside.

Many proudly displayed words and symbols, but since she'd understood almost none of them she discarded them. Better not wear something that would inadvertently draw attention.

That left the simple colored shirts, which were causing more trouble than Trinitite expected. The manager's words on clothes echoed in her head as the Carrier studied her options.

Your clothes are an expression of who you are.

Well, they wouldn't be. Trinitite was looking to 'express' a perfectly unremarkable, average human. Obviously, white and black were out. Nobody needed to see her sporting abyssal colors. She liked blue, however, whether it be dark sea-blue or the cool blue of her eye. Her orange eye was a bigger point of pride, though. Few abyssals survived long enough to mature like that, so an orange shirt would work.

But what if the military didn't fall for her disguise? Perhaps green or brown would be a better idea. There was a patterned shirt with both those colors, right?

Arriving at a decision, Trinitite scooped a green-and-brown striped shirt from its stack and started checking for sizes. It was perfect. The colors would make it harder for her to be spotted from the air, while the dazzling stripes would confuse surface combatant's ranging efforts.

She'd make sure to bring all the other options with her, though. Just in case.

Trinitite couldn't be certain about anything, but she felt pretty confident about the outfit she'd found. Brown-and-Green shirt, simultaneously practical and stylish. Slim blue jeans, because there were so many everyone must wear them. A pair of "hiking boots", one of the few surviving items in the decimated the shoe section. The largest and heaviest hat she could find, a khaki item with a wide brim and thick material.

It didn't come close with her rigging's headgear, but the familiar feeling of something protecting her scalp was close enough.

The entire ensemble, plus whatever she could get to work with the human camouflage she'd picked up, should let her pass as human. If it wasn't enough her hold was stuffed with plenty of alternatives. Who knows, if she could lose the military entirely she might be able to switch back into a good pair of heels.

Now to find a mirror, ensure she looked inconspicuous enough, and… and...

That was a lot of dresses. Trinitite would like to say she wasn't interested, and she'd managed to ignore them for the majority of the night, but seeing them brought back so many memories.

Abyssal Princesses loved their dresses. The Battleship Princess, the Midway Princess, and her own came to mind, but they certainly weren't unique in their wardrobe choice. In a way, it was a status symbol, since as far as she knew, no standard abyssal ever wore one.

Grabbing one off the rack and holding it in front of her, Trinitite found herself biting her lip. There wasn't any reason not to carry one around, was there? Plus, if so many powerful ships and installations loved them there must have been some advantage. The image of her in similar dress entered her mind, perhaps surrounded by a mist similar to her princess, but she dismissed it.

The dress returned to the hanger rack. She wouldn't betray her mother like that.

Returning to the changing room, the abyssal turned to assess her double in the mirror. Thick shoes, rough pants, and a subtle shirt. So far, so human.

Her white hands might be a problem, though. She'd found plenty of gloves, but all had seemed a bit too bulky for her tastes. She'd have to either bite the bullet and wear something cumbersome, or see if she could get away with her original gloves. Maybe she'd grabbed something to make them look more human back with the lipstick, but she couldn't be sure.

Seeing her neck bare seemed… wrong. Like she was sailing into combat with some of her bulkheads jammed open or armor stripped away. Scratching her throat with one hand, she checked her hold for anything that could help with that. Her crew were starting to sort her bounty from where she'd tossed it, meaning everything had moved from where she'd left it. Lets see, if she knew her Quartermaster they'd be next to either the hats or coats, right?

Right. With a flurry, Trinitite whipped a long strip of fabric from her hold and held it in front of her. There'd been images of humans wearing this 'scarf' around their neck, and while she'd grabbed a few she'd initially thought they'd be useless. It would be gone if she tried to shoulder through another bush, but for peace of mind…

The scarf was the first she could get her hands on, the thin material decorated with an orange and grey geometric pattern. She brought the garment in front of her, the smooth cloth sliding through her fingers.

How did they do this? Trinitite cautiously looped the dual-colored scarf around her neck, keeping it loose enough that it draped around her shoulders and settled on her chest. Having completed a rough approximation of her regular collar, she tied the scarf off.

Perhaps a little too similar to her regular outfit, and it didn't look quite as nice as the images the store displayed, but as Trinitite turned in the mirror those issues didn't seem like much of a problem.

Her eyes, however…

The abyssal bit her lip, leaning into her own reflection. There wasn't any good way to hide that, was there? She could try some of the sunglasses that were on display, but they'd only dull it, reflecting a portion back into her face and blinding her.

Thunk.

The Carrier jumped as she felt a part of her suddenly go dark. Did she blow a fuze? With all the damage she'd taken in the past month it wouldn't be surprising if her electrics were starting to fail, but that didn't mean she had a good plan to deal with it. Without good air conditioning-

AC's fine. We just shut the lights off in the island. Air control is going to be difficult, and expect a bunch more minor injuries, but that might solve your glowing problem.

Trinitite blinked, staring back at her mirror. Sure enough, where there had once been a brilliant blue-orange glow, her eyes had dimmed to a dull grey.

"Huh." She mumbled. Humans had grey eyes, right? "Thanks." As long as it wasn't obvious anymore Trinitite doubted it would be a big deal. She'd been dealing with the manager for hours now, and she couldn't recall her eye color at all.

"Hey." One of her fairies audibly replied.

Nodding to her reflection, Trinitite turned and left. By this time, the military had been given several hours to catch up with her. The raid had yielded much more than she expected, even though Trinitite hadn't had enough time to check the entire warehouse. She'd also developed a proper plan, now: fade into the human populous, getting money and discreetly obtaining any more supplies she needed while searching for Her Princess. Speaking of which, her disguise certainly would make spying on Human installations easier. For the first time in weeks, things were looking up for the lone Wo.

Before she left though, she had one more thing to take care of.

The human had fallen asleep an hour ago, while Trinitite was trying the collection of jackets. Leaning against a nearby pillar didn't look comfortable to her, but Trinitite wasn't an expert on humans so for all she knew they did it regularly. Anyways, a sleeping human wasn't a plotting human, so she'd left the manager there.

A poke wasn't enough to rouse the human from her slumber. Trinitite briefly considered pushing harder to wake her, before recalling the many destroyed items scattering the warehouse. Humans might be more fragile than the Wo realized.

Instead, Trinitite hooked her hands under the woman's arms, hauling her to to her feet. Judging by how the human's eyes jerked open, it worked pretty well.

"Wha?" The human jerked in Trinitite's hands, but seemed stable enough when the carrier put her back on her feet. "Who?"

"Human." Before waking her, Trinitite had prepared a quick statement. "I'm going to leave now, but I need something, first."

She nodded, blinking wearly.

"What is your name?" She hoped the human had a name. Not every princess cared about their fleet enough to grant them one.

"Uh…" The woman stared at her for a few seconds, before finally speaking. "Elizabeth."

Right. Like it said on the tag she had. The Wo nodded to herself, before continuing her spiel.

"Well, you may not have my trust, but you have my gratitude. You've helped me a lot today, so I think I owe you a favor. Unlike humans, we Abyssals despise a debt, so remember this:" Trinitite took a step away from the human, making room for the Wo to point at Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth of the Fred Meyers Fleet. Some day, somehow, I shall return to repay the favor I owe you. We'll meet again."

With that, Trinitite turned and left the confused human. Hopefully, she'd find a way to do so. The amount of inventory she'd taken didn't entirely fill her hold and meat locker, but it was substantial. She didn't think the military had been alerted, but now that her business was concluded she'd have to move on. Besides, her priorities were shifting from 'survival' to 'reconnaissance.' The creeping realization that she'd taken the initiative from the humans was exhilarating, and she was getting impatient to do so.

Trinitite would be leaving from the same exit she'd taken, but her route took her through another section of the warehouse. She couldn't stop to examine anything in depth, but grabbing one of the 'walking sticks' she'd sighted wouldn't take too much time, would it?

And here's the second half! I should reply to everyone before posting another chapter, but after spending so long breaking my hands typing this on a tiny mobile keyboard I'm just exited to get it out.

Yes, Trinitite is wearing a Cowboy Hat. She isn't a fashion disaster, but there's... room for improvement.

If I had to say something nice about the character of the majority of Abyssal interpretations, it's that they have a strong sense of justice. Obviously it's horribly misguided and they aren't particularly discriminate about it, but I imagine the knowledge they owe someone something would sit really poorly with them.