After the human's probable joke, conversation between the four floundered.

Noticing it had lost steam, Alton turned to the half-built structure they'd been standing on, inspecting where bits of short wire held several steel rods in a loose cage. Trinitite was going to follow him, to see what kind of work she was going to be doing, but a voice behind her drew her attention.

"So, Elizabeth." Tirto asked, waiting for Trinitite to turn before continuing. "Where are you from?"

Thankfully, she'd expected this question, and by now her response came almost automatically.

"I'm from the Marshals." She replied. "You?"

A split-second after the question left her mouth, Trinitite realized her mistake. She shouldn't have said that last part if she wanted to stay low, but for a ship who'd commanded multi-fleet task forces, the casual follow up had just come just as automatically as her answer.

"Wonosobo." The man replied. Possibly anticipating Trinitite's unrecognition, he clarified. "It's in Indonesia."

"I see." She lied.

It was a little frustrating, as she did recognize the name, but couldn't tie it to anywhere in the Pacific. Deflecting attention, Trinitite turned her attention to the taller one, Sern.

He didn't say anything. Trinitite looked back to Tirto, seeing he'd been expecting a response from his colleague as well, but none had come. For a split second too long, the silence lingered.

"Oh. I'm from Malaysia." He belatedly stammered.

"I see." She repeated. That sounded an awful lot like Malaya. Abyssals like her got their names for locations from Princesses, who'd in turn gotten them from humans, so why were they so different? She knew from experience that communications degraded over time, but something as important as a name couldn't have changed that much, right?

That wasn't immediately important, though. Sern had been talking plenty as she approached, but now that the Abyssal was here he only spoke in short, clipped sentences. Was he nervous? Guilty?

Suspicious?

Suddenly, Sern's eyes focused, his attention drawn towards the floor's entrance.

"There he is."

Following Sern's gaze, Trinitite turned, getting her first look at her new Commander.

Austin Gomez arrived in a group, but Trinitite had no problem picking out the small team's leader. The human made a beeline for Trinitite, carrying several instruments she didn't recognize as the workers following him spread out.

"You the new girl?"

"Reporting as ordered." Trinitite replied, snapping an instinctual salute. Only after her hand touched the rim of her helmet did she realize her mistake, but if Austin cared about that he didn't show it.

"Good." He replied. Directing his attention towards her other group members, Austin continued. "I've talked to Dan, and it looks like we have two hours to get work out of you."

Austin grunted, his armful of tools rattling as he set them down. Picking up a set of steel rods connected by a collection of gears and bolts, Austin held it in easy view of the abyssal. "Know what this is?"

Recognizing the rhetorical question, Trinitite shook her head.

"No."

Austin changed his focus to Trinitite's coworkers. "Rebar Bender. Alton will show you how to use it. You two get started on Column Eighteen, while Tirto and Penang will finish Column Fourteen. Got it?"

"Aye." Trinitite acknowledged. Everyone else around her just nodded, however, which seemed to be sufficient for her commander.

"Good. I have something else to deal with." His gaze settled back on Trinitite, suddenly hardening. "Just remember this: You're working in the United States."

...Okay? Trinitite nodded, and her commander continued.

"That means you measure in Inches…" He stressed the word, suddenly raising his voice in a manner all-too-familiar to the abyssal. "...and feet. We're not building a mars rover, but screwing up metric and imperial will fuck us up just as badly, Capeesh?"

...There was a lot to unpack there ('Mars Rover' was hastily added to her log to ensure she would look it up later), but Trinitite didn't have time to figure out what that last word meant. Obviously this was an issue Austin had grappled with before, but it seemed like a bit of an odd problem to have. She knew some other fleets measured distances in meters instead of yards, but it had never seemed all that important.

"Measure in inches, got it."

In response, he nodded, but Trinitite could tell the Human wanted to lay the point in a little more.

"If you can't adjust to the imperial system, there's plenty of people out there who can." He said, waving his arm over the distant city, before turning to leave. "She's all yours, Alton."

With that, Trinitite's leader left, his voice calming as he started conversing with another group of workers.

"They must have given him a pretty bad time at the toolshed." Alton remarked, shaking his head. "I don't know why we keep Cook around." He straightened, rolling his shoulders and bending down to grab the remaining tools on the ground. Penang and Tirto had already secured half of the collection, getting to work on the pillar next to them as Austin introduced himself. "Well, we're on the clock. Grab that and we'll get started."

Seeing Alton had gathered everything besides the rebar bender, Trinitite reached down and grabbed the tool. It was… remarkably light, and even with almost no effort Trinitite straightened far quicker than expected. Was some of this aluminum?

Alton stopped at another incomplete pillar, this one little more than collection of evenly spaced steel rods protruding from the concrete. From its location near the center of the floor, Trinitite couldn't get a good look at the rest of the construction site, but if she positioned herself correctly she'd have a great view of the work being done on the rest of the building.

Not that she'd have time to watch.

"Alright." Alton started, observing the steel bars in front of him. "We're going to need some number three rebar. We've got a lot of precut stuff stationed near the stairs, there." He pointed towards what Trinitite assumed to be some kind of depot, a collection of material protected from the elements by some white material. "Grab as much as you can safely carry. Don't worry about getting everything we need, and make sure you grab the rebar we've cut to four-feet eight-inches."

"Understood." She pivoted, allowing Alton to sort out the collection of tools he'd brought as she set a course for the stockpile he'd mentioned. The depot, located near the entrance to the floor, contained several wooden pallets. Material of some kind rested on the collection of pallets, but the white material that covered them hid the nature of the supplies. As she approached, she watched another human throw a corner of the white sheet back over one of the deposits of supplies, walking back to his own work with a collection of steel bars resting on his shoulder.

That must be the number three rebar Alton was talking about. An abyssal built for surface action probably would have the optics to determine how many the worker was carrying, but Trinitite couldn't quite make out enough detail to distinguish the individual bars from each other. Was that fifteen, or twenty?

Trinitite didn't have much issue visually spotting aircraft, but with the light as it was she couldn't get a good estimate. A shame, too, because the amount of rebar she brought back was pretty important. Too much, and the difference in strength between humans and herself would be too obvious. Too little, and she'd lose the respect she was trying to gain with her fleetmates. Emotionally she didn't care much for their opinions, but given how badly the Diego Garcia convoy got and how dangerous this work site was, she knew that was vital.

Checking the labeling on the cover to ensure she was indeed bringing Alton number three rebar, Trinitite brushed the slick material aside and slid a length of rebar from the collection. Idly, she hoisted the bar, examining its surface and hefting the steel rod to gauge its weight. The corkscrew outset, presumably to ensure it bound with the concrete, made it roll in Trinitite's hands, but otherwise it seemed pretty mundane. She couldn't get a good feel for the steel's quality without bending and biting into it, but it didn't seem particularly high-grade.

Suddenly, the abyssal had to swallow. Sure, she'd had plenty of food in her holds, including a recent meal with some pretty high-grade aluminum, but this was steel, the stuff that put plating between your ribs! Sure, much like fuel, she could get necessary supplies through the consumption of meats and plants, but when you needed material?

Nothing hit the spot like the real stuff.

But she couldn't enjoy herself. No one was eating on the job right now, and sneaking a free meal from your commander's supplies was asking for a sinking. If she breached Dan's trust that badly, it wouldn't be a surprise if he warned others not to hire her.

It wasn't like she could fix much of her remaining damage without yard time, anyways.

Thus, Trinitite stood with just enough rebar to comfortably fit on her shoulder, trying to think of anything except the taste of the steel.

"Is this enough?"

Maybe it was because of the earlier handshake, but Alton couldn't shake the impression that Elizabeth hardly noticed the bundle of steel resting on her shoulder.

"Enough for now. Set it down here and we'll get started."

He wasn't entirely sure what to think of the new girl. While Alton walked Elizabeth through the use of the rebar bender, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Elizabeth seemed eager to learn, and took it well when Alton critiqued her developing technique, but no matter what he couldn't get that handshake out of his mind. Sure, she'd been friendly until that point, and she'd been apologetic to a fault afterwards, but there was no way somebody would squeeze that hard accidentally.

Had that been some kind of power play, a show of force to ensure she didn't get pushed around on the jobsite? No, that didn't make much sense, because there were much easier ways to show your strength, without causing an uproar and alienating a coworker.

Such as pulling her weight, which she was certainly doing.

"Up." Alton commanded, feeling the rebar shift slightly as Elizabeth obeyed. Alton hadn't been keeping track of the time, but the rebar cage seemed to be forming rather quickly.

"A little more." he added, keeping his eyes on the level he was holding on top of the bar. The bubble shifted.

"More… That's good." He reported, making a twirling motion with his free hand. "Tie it up!"

Elizabeth wasn't as good at this part. Her custom gloves allowed a lot of movement, but she still fumbled the short span of wire twice before finally wrapping it around the rebar, giving it a twist to secure it to the incomplete pillar.

Her strength was one thing, but Alton noted her endurance as well. After ensuring the rebar was secured to the pillar, she immediately turned, scooping up the measuring tape and the last rod she'd brought to mark out six inches for the bender. Operating the rebar bender wasn't a particularly strenuous task, but the way she pulled the bender's lever was as effortless as it had been her second or third time using the tool. Normally the workers switched to ensure neither of them tired out as quickly, but Alton hadn't noticed any fatigue in the new girl.

What did they feed her?

"Okay, we'll get this one installed, and I'll head back with you to grab the rest of the rebar we'll need."

Once that was done, Alton returned with her to the much-diminished palate of supplies. With everyone busy at their own jobs, the pair passed without notice, allowing Alton to get a higher-level view of the project. Tirto and Penang didn't notice their passing, busy on their own pillar, but as some of the only people he actually knew on site he gave their work extra attention. The pair were less ahead of Alton than he'd expected. Not only did Alton have to teach his partner everything from scratch, but the cage they were working on had been started the previous day. Now, they almost seemed even.

Elizabeth was catching on quick, but they couldn't be working that quickly, could they? The last hour or so replayed in Alton's head, the Man trying to remember if they were forgetting anything important. It hadn't seemed like they were working particularly quickly, but things hadn't slowed much after they'd gotten started.

They were at the supplies now. Waving Elizabeth on, Alton took a swig of his water bottle, allowing him to get a good look at the new girl's technique. Bending at the knees, she knelt down to the rebar, scooping up the rebar and hefting it over her shoulder like it was foam, or dry bamboo. She hadn't tired out at all, had she?

What the hell did that mean?

She had expected her story to get questioned a bit more, but once Alton and Trinitite got into their work, conversation narrowed to the task at hand. In some ways, that reminded her of conducting anti-submarine warfare with her sisters and screen, minus the danger, tension, and any connection with who she was working with.

They were similar insomuch as there was plenty of boredom, though. One can only tie so many metal bars together before one's thoughts start to wander, and with the majority of the work on-site obscured by the floor they were on, Trinitite started to think more abstractly.

For example, what could she do with one hundred and fifty dollars?

Unfortunately, the manifest Trinitite's quartermaster had drawn up of the Warehouse Raid's spoils was missing a dollar value, but during her job hunt she'd gotten a glimpse of the value of several other items. Then, she'd been a little too focused on other matters to pay mind to specific prices, but she could remember a few values.

For example, Ineng's market had set cups of ice cream at the price of eight dollars. Trinitite wasn't sure what kind of value humans placed on the precious substance, but to her?

Nothing beat Mother's Ice Cream. A reward for a job well done, a gallon of the frozen goodness could keep in her freezer for as long as she needed, allowing her to steal a bite whenever she needed encouragement, a reminder of a job well done, or when the last bite of ice cream had finally melted. A small amount could bring minutes of enjoyment, as the pleasant chill it brought slowly gave way to sweet cream. It was an experience unmatched by anything above or below the water, and deep, Trinitite missed it dearly. The fact that she might never be rewarded like that again-

No.

The Carrier forced herself to focus on her work, swinging the rebar bender's lever with a little more effort than was necessary. Sure, what was once the Abyssal Jellyfish Princess had left Bikini with The Enemy, but she'd clearly recognized a ship from before their betrayal with the fire. She'd have to recognize Trinitite as well, right?

Surely she could use that somehow. Trinitite would have to covertly isolate Her Princess beforehand, but in a prow-to-prow meeting Trinitite was sure she could get her to see reason. The humans had abandoned her to The Fire, after all, and Trinitite hadn't. It was that simple.

If her Mother gave ice cream to a ship who'd completed a patrol, imagine what kind of award Trinitite would get for returning her to her senses and rescuing her from The Enemy! She wouldn't have enough space in her freezers to hold all that delicious ice cream! It was a bit unorthodox, but maybe she'd have enough storage space if Her Princess allowed her to split it with her Sisters when they came back.

If.

If they came back. That hadn't been true for many destroyers and that Ho-class Trinitite had lost on expedition. Maybe the Abyss had seen fit to give them to another fleet, or they'd been… left… down there. The ocean was a large place, and a lot of Abyssal Fleets didn't have good communications with each other. So it was possible they had returned to the surface under the service of a Princess in the Medeteranian sea or Arctic Ocean, but it also was possible they hadn't returned at all, and nobody really knew which was true.

If those Destroyers had managed to sink Trinitite, she might not have been the end for her, but it certainly would have meant the last chance at saving Her Princess would have been lost. If she had returned knowing she'd squandered that opportunity, she wasn't sure if she could live with herself.

Come to think of it, The humans clearly knew more about how beings like Her Princess and her worked than she did. What if Trinitite couldn't reverse Her Princesses's transformation? What if her former princess refused to listen to her, only giving Trinitite a volley of five-inch shellfire? Or what if she did succeed, only for the humans to surround her and twist her Mother back into the ship they wanted?

"You're done?"

Trinitite jumped, whirling to get a look at the voice behind her. Austin's unimpressed visage stared back at her, and the Abyssal Carrier suddenly remembered what she'd been doing.

"With the cage in Column Eighteen." Alton clarified, unimpressed by Trinitite's startled reaction. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah, it's finished." Alton piped up, nodding to where they'd been working previously. "She caught on pretty quickly."

"Huh." Austin replied, turning to analyze the completed pillar. "Good job."

Was he… complimenting her? Despite the embarrassment of being surprised, the Carrier was a bit thankful for her new Commander's interruption. Her thoughts had been sailing a course far too dark for her liking, anyways.

The last thing she'd been expecting, however, was a compliment. She tied some metal together, and judging by how many times she'd fumbled the wire she was supposed to be using, she'd done it pretty slowly. Hardly a task worth praise, compared to guiding some vital supplies home, beating a submarine off of a convoy, or carrying your badly damaged sister home.

Maybe she was overthinking things. Austin hadn't even been looking at her when he'd said that. Were compliments that much cheaper among humans?

"Liking your job so far?" He turned, staring directly at Trinitite.

"Yeah." She replied. There wasn't much to say about what she was doing, but Trinitite certainly liked the one hundred and fifty dollars they said she'd get once the day was up. Did anyone ever say no to that question?

"Heh." He chuckled, his look skeptical. "That'll make you a first. It's honest work, but it takes a special kind of person to enjoy this. Carry on." Nodding to Alton, Trinitite's Commander turned, leaving to check up on the next team.

She wasn't sure how, but Trinitite couldn't shake the feeling she could have handled that encounter better. She turned, scooping another length of rebar and feeding it into the bender. Here, it didn't really matter if she could speak well. She just needed to work, take her money at the end of the day, and keep her mouth shut.

Yeah, I know the Mars Climate Orbiter was a probe, not a rover, but I don't think that's a distinction Trinitite's supervisor would care about.

On a similar note, I'm sorry for naming one character Austin, and one character Alton. I thought those two names were both different enough for this arc's two most prominent american characters, but I'm starting to regret it. That's what a random name generator will get ya, I guess.

Anyways, this chapter really fought me at the beginning, but it definitely started to build up steam near the end. I had to change my thinking a bit, shifting away from my 'show don't tell' philosophy of writing a story as a series of scenes, and go for a more montage style to skip over Trinitite's work faster. People aren't reading this to know how a construction site works, after all, and I feel going for this style allows me to focus more on characters. Plus, while I research as much as I can, this means fewer opportunities for my research failures to damage the story. Please let me know if this works for you, although I'll probably be migrating back to a more scene-based narrative as soon as I can anyways.