"...Northrop Grumman's proposal could be seen as a revolution of the M7-Boeing option, replicating the A-10's capabilities with a large amount of parts from the civilian market."

Alton sighed, shifting in the driver's seat as his eyes traced over the colorful patchwork of bumper stickers on the car in front of him. Like the serious voice speaking over the roar of his old sedan's heater, he didn't pay too much attention to the actual meaning behind the words there. His mind was too preoccupied alternating between following along with the traffic and thoughts of word, specifically the odd coworker he'd have to deal with when he got there.

"The eA-30 doesn't boast much of a performance advantage when compared to the current fleet of attackers, let alone the Lockheed Martin proposal. However, the estimated unit cost has already drawn interest from the several other governments, especially governments-in-exile who've been fighting with limited resources."

Mable had immediately been able to tell he was shaken once he'd made it home, a remark about his lateness dying on her lips as she moved to embrace him. After they'd sat down to eat, Alton had explained the strange circumstances surrounding the newcomer to his wife. It had confused her, at first, why Alton was so fixated on a young woman who'd just been hired, maybe even made her a little suspicious as he'd gone over her unusual traits, until he'd gotten to his fears about the new hire.

"However, Northrop Grumman might have trouble getting a major hold in the international market, where Sukoi's Su-25 and Scaled Composites' 151 ARES, also in the competition as the A-32B, have secured contracts with several other governments."

Of course, she'd thought the idea of his coworker being an abyssal to be ridiculous, but her dismissal had come with a great deal of sympathy. Alton hadn't expected her to believe him, at least not initially. They both knew he wasn't the same man who'd fled into the Oahu jungle when the abyssals rolled into Pearl, so he wasn't going to convince her of anything without any persuasion.

"The eA-30's designers claim a lower unit cost then the Su-25, but Ryan, we all know how rough those estimates are at this stage of development."

Ultimately, however, it had been him who'd been persuaded. Mable didn't doubt what he'd seen, but he'd been forced to admit that there were some better explanations for Saturday's… anomalies.

"We do, unfortunately. How about the eA-31? You've mentioned Lookeed Martin's proposal a few times already, what makes it so impressive?"

For example, a podcast discussing a poor-quality video of dubious origins wasn't exactly a reliable source, but assuming it was accurate didn't exactly lead to his coworker being an abyssal. If she was a renegade, she might be more dangerous, as Alton guessed an enemy scout wouldn't want to create an incident.

Until the perfect moment, that is.

"Right. Lockheed Martin's proposal takes an entirely different approach to this competition."

That thought wasn't helping. There were other options, especially if you dropped the fragile link between the new girl and that video on the internet. The first option that Mable had brought up was the idea that Elizabeth was a reincarnated warship, instead of a summoned one, but they both dismissed the option fairly quickly.

"They've taken the original design in the A-10, and made several improvements to increase its effectiveness against abyssals."

Sure, nobody really knew how the underlying mechanics behind shipgirls worked, but the Natural Born theory didn't have any firm evidence behind it. It's only real supporters didn't seem like a very trustworthy crowd, anyways. There were the charlatans trying to sell you fake 'services' designed to tell if the customer was secretly a shipgirl. There were dangerous creeps, claiming they had easy answers and attempting to entice people into their cult. There were pitiable 'parents' who were clearly desperate for attention, failing to back any of their claims or get acknowledgement from their supposed daughters. The majority of people who'd subscribed to the idea didn't seem particularly malevolent, but perhaps too into japanese superheroes and wishful thinking. Besides, considering how likely the next possibility was, the idea of Magical Girl Elizabeth didn't warrant much consideration.

"To start with, one of the reasons the prewar fleet of A-10s suffered from so much attrition was because, although it was effective at ensuring its pilot's safety, many badly damaged A-10s had to be written off after returning to base."

It wasn't uncommon for shipgirls to simply be given extended leave. Gossip sites were full of stories of shipgirls being rotated out of active duty for… maternal reasons, and it wouldn't surprise Alton if a handful of those stories were accurate, but at the end of the day, shipgirls were carrying a lot of the war's stress on their shoulders, something the world's navies were keenly aware of.

"When Boeing and M7 Aerospace begin full production of the A-10D, this problem is expected to be offset somewhat, but the eA-31 should reduce the repairs required in the first place through the use of several active defense systems."

He didn't know the specifics, but it wasn't unheard of for shipgirls to be given a few weeks' leave for one reason or another, always unannounced to keep the paparazzi away. Often, they'd just take it as a vacation, but some did want to stay busy during their month or so behind the lines. More than a few partially owned small businesses, but Alton guessed it wouldn't be too surprising if a ship didn't want the stress of being an entrepreneur. If one opted for some simple labor during their time off, the construction site Alton worked for wouldn't be a terrible choice for work. They weren't that far from several military bases, after all.

"For example, internal ECM equipment has been added, designed to jam the fire control radars and proximity fuzes of abyssal anti-aircraft systems."

Pulling into a collection of side-roads that tended to be less congested at this time of day, Alton allowed a sigh. It was a reasonable idea, but a part of Alton still couldn't shake the possibility that his first assumption had been dreadfully correct.

"Tests against shipgirls have proven promising, although ECM suite's effectiveness against abyssals seems slightly reduced."

If 'Elizabeth' was secretly a shipgirl, pulled out of the conflict to cool off after losing a sister ship or something, it would be best for Alton to avoid poking into her business, giving her space until her leave came to an end and she jumped back into the war. If she was secretly one of those things, however, then Alton needed to do the opposite of that, so he could discreetly get a warning out.

"Additionally, the eA-31 has improved engines and a reinforced tail, making it theoretically carrier capable, but so far The Navy has shown no interest in the competition."

Either way, he'd have to be subtle, somehow. Right now, he didn't have a plan beyond observing the new hire, but hopefully he'd have something more concrete, given time.

A memory returned to him, of distant fire and sheets of unnatural rain. Hopefully, he had time.

Yesterday had been… productive.

After a meal of doughnuts, beef jerky and apples, Trinitite had returned to the library, exploring a few other terms on her research list. There had been some interesting information, but nothing as keel-shatteringly major as her discoveries in the morning. Apparently, the Americans hadn't just hit the atoll with the fire in Operation Crossroads, but had unleashed it twenty more times there, enough to completely destroy three of the atoll's islands. Other humans had apparently tried to live there afterwards, but something called strontium and cesium had forced them to flee, and since then it hadn't considered it livable besides the occasional human divers, 'scientists,' and 'caretakers.'

There were a few other interesting tidbits as well. Apparently, the US once got so furious at the loss of a battleship they were willing to declare war against another coalition of fleets known as Spain. The fact hadn't sat right with her, considering they also seemed apathetic enough to sink several of their own capital ships, but the topic didn't warrant further exploration yet. The term 'nuclear arms race' appeared, which sounded absolutely terrifying, and there had been some information on the humans who'd lived there before then, displaced by The Fire long before Trinitite had called Bikini her home.

Most of a section titled 'Trust funds and Failed Claims' flew over her deck, especially considering the millions of dollars mentioned, a number that the Carrier wasn't sure she'd managed to wrap her bridge around. Beyond that, Trinitite learned that apparently some clothing had been named after the explosions at the atoll, but without a reference image the knowledge hadn't meant much to her. Overall, a good portion of the 'Bikini Atoll' article was information she'd already known.

Most interestingly, there had been a simple note near the end of the article reporting that an abyssal fleet had taken the island a few weeks into the Abyssal War, and had recently been destroyed in a military operation. So, The Wikipedia Fleet had gotten news about the battle. Did they learn anything about her mother? Her hopes cautiously rising, she gave the article on Saratoga another check, only for that hope to be abruptly grounded once again. Unfortunately not. Was the Navy hiding Her Mother's presence from everyone else?

Besides a confirmation that the library's computers were connected to at least a few others, and a review from several different fleets going over jargon surrounding buildings and construction, the rest of the day hadn't been that noteworthy. Her stop by the Baskin-Robbins had been amazing, but no more special than her first. The reconnaissance of the Walmart's warehouse overnight had been informative, but she hadn't had enough money left to trade for any items she might have found important.

That was too bad, because Trinitite had found where Walmart had stored their cooking items! With about a third of the resources in her hold being currently useless, their potential locked away by her lack of pots, blenders, and working ovens, Trinitite had looked at the array of knives, spatulas, ladles and other supplies with unhidden envy. She'd even spent half an hour studying a propane-powered 'Camping Stove,' which sounded like exactly what she needed to boil the water all those pastas and rices required!

Of course, she didn't have the money required to obtain all of these supplies… yet. With only a day of work, she could get the camping stove and some pots, and give rice another try tonight. As The Abyssal approached the construction site, finishing off a loaf of garlic bread, she tried to imagine how all those pastas would probably taste once they'd been boiled.

It was the best she could do to avoid thinking about that other discovery.

The abyssal shuddered, the garlic bread in her hands shaking as her mind reeled. Damn the deep, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it, her traitorous thoughts would wander to all kinds of weird places. For example, what did the male 'reproductive organs' look like?

The Wo-Class stopped walking, taking a deliberate bite into the garlic bread and focusing on the peculiarly unique flavor that complemented the dry loaf. She'd have to investigate this garlic later, it wasn't bad at all. Soon, however, the distraction faded, and her thoughts started drifting back to where she most certainly did not want them.

Why would she care? For a few minutes, she'd entertained the idea of trying to procure some escorts using this genetic trade system, but the idea was shot down quickly. As a carrier, she obviously longed for some kind of screen, but trying to keep a flotilla of them hidden would be much harder. Besides, doing so would require arranging that trade with a male, a human male, and any contact that could would certainly ruin her disguise. After that, the human would probably report her to the Navy instead of giving her any favors, meaning the idea of free additional ships to protect her was out of the question.

So, the idea was a bad one. Dead on arrival, as The Supply Depot Princess once said.

Why couldn't she stop thinking about it?

She needed a solid distraction. The Garlic Bread was a part of that, but it was only working as long as she was working through a bite, and her supplies wouldn't last forever. Hopefully getting back to work would help with refocusing her mind on useful topics. Remembering how much her mind had wandered during her first day of work, she admitted she wasn't sure.

Okay, she just needed to endure for another day, then she could get the camping stove. Try and figure out how to use it. Give a few of the recipe books she'd commandeered a shakedown. Then, she could put this whole reproducion thing behind her, and think about useful topics.

Like that human named… was it Sern? It didn't matter, if he was suspicious of her, she'd have to make sure she kept the human under solid observation. What kind of warning flags could she watch out for, to see if he was seeing through his disguise? Trinitite pictured her largest threat, imaging what kind of expression he'd have if he truly figured out too much. She pictured how his posture would change, imaging his shoulders shift, his legs tense, his...

...damnit, she was thinking about it again!

Why?

Stop!

Stupid, stupid, Wo!

No dig at the 'natural born shipgirl' trope was intended, here. It's worked really well in some other stories, and is pretty popular in Japanese Doujin, IIRC, but that's all I say about that fandom trope.

Anyways, I figure this was a nice little introduction to the next work week. No actual interactions between Trinitite and her coworkers, but I think I set things up for that happening the chapter after the next fairly well. Next chapter will probably be another interlude, then a few fun conversations next.