8575: It is nearing the 4th of July, we will be preventing any other of fireworks of any type.

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An undisclosed location on the West Coast with a lot of open space, June 10, 20XX

"You ladies have a lot of nerve you know, pressganging a Royal Mail Steamer into testing fireworks for that most American of holidays," Titanic teased, grinning wryly as he stepped back to admire the formidable array of pyrotechnics nearly overflowing from the pile of crates laid out for inspection. "To the victor go the spoils, yeah?" Iowa (BB-61) answered with a playful smirk. "Our turf, our rules. I don't see you making too much of an objection anyway."

"Ti's a real sport about these things, I'm sure he doesn't mind helping out. Besides," Langley added, taking her husband's tie in hand so she could yank him close and steal a kiss, "someone has to make himself useful around here don't you think?" That definitely took Titanic by surprise, and he was more than likely warm around the face and under the shirt collar at that, chuckling as he tipped his hat to Langley and taking her hand to press a kiss of his own to the back of it. "Yes ma'am."

The famed ocean liner had been in the general area to pay a visit to the Mother of All Carriers, currently making rounds among various naval installations in the Pacific. With the two of them on the West Coast, they'd gotten themselves caught up in the shipgirls' plans for the upcoming festivities a month away. Preparations for Independence Day were already getting underway, some of it likely under-the-board so to speak, and he had a sneaking feeling that in line with the classic 'Yankee' way of making stuff go boom, the plans for this year's 4th of July were going to be something worthy of V for Vendetta. At least, judging by the stated plan of putting on a hell of a grand fireworks show to follow the evening barbecue.

"Where did you get all this anyway?" Titanic inquired, examining a Roman candle with apparent interest. "Postal service, and a few foreign shipments," Liberty ship SS Jeremiah O'Brien replied, picking up a large triangular firework as big as the palm of a hand. "The Filipinos and the Chinese love making things go bang for holidays, so we placed a few orders. Some of them under the radar of course," she added in a conspiratorial tone, "as they might exactly not be allowed around here. Like those triangle firecrackers - the ones the size of thick pizza slices can set off car alarms a few yards out."

Langley frowned just a little, managing to find (much to the nearby liner's chagrin) what looked like fireworks resembling finger-sized sticks of dynamite strung on a common fuse. "In that case, we may as well be careful. Some of this stuff looks like it could almost pass for munition in terms of power." "Well," the battleship began, starting to pull out various makes and types of firework out from the crates, "that's why we need to test these bad boys out before arranging them for the big banging on the 4th! If those science girls would just come out of hiding all of us together could come up with a firework show nobody will be forgetting any time soon!"

The carrier would nod, donning heavy duty gloves while the Liberty ship passed extra pairs around: kanmusu or not, having a firework detonate on or near a hand was not a pleasant experience. "So," she began, cracking her knuckles, "who's got the lighter?"

And test them they did, with much enthusiasm and experimentation. Langley took the opportunity to tie the fuses of five rockets together, a scaled down test for the possibility of launching the whole stock all at once from a hwacha. Jeremiah O'Brien was almost sent packing when she tested the whistling fireworks — some of the shipgirls had heard the wheeee and thought it sounded like kamikaze dives or falling ordnance. Iowa tied a triangle to the 'string of dynamite' firecracker and set it off to produce a sound vaguely like machine gun fire, ending in a loud bang. Titanic mounted a Catherine wheel horizontally, stuck a Roman candle in the center, and lit both to create the effect of a ring of light spitting out jets of light straight up into the sky.

The trouble came when they tried to test the fire fountain, which was supposed to erupt in a tall shower of multicolored sparks: the fuse ran down when they lit it, but seemingly nothing happened. "Well that's a dud," Iowa observed, setting it aside to root through the pile for another test sample. Bad idea. As anyone who's had a trip to the ER for firework injuries knows, unexploded 'crackers sometimes go off after a brief period, and that's exactly what happened here: as they were getting another firework out, the fountain suddenly began to erupt, making them scramble back in alarm as the red, white, and blue sparks shot up and rained merrily back down, getting onto the pile — including onto the larger pyrotechnics. Oh shit.

BOOM.

The blast was just strong enough that all of them could feel the air pulse around them, but holy macaroni it was loud enough to be heard a good distance away as their entire stock of fireworks began to burn with raucous violence. Apparently, New Year's Eve with Filipino fireworks was an utter assault on the ears with how much dakka these things could pack when lit simultaneously. "Back! Get back!" Langley's voice rang out, clear and commanding as the four of them (with ears still ringing) beat a hasty retreat from the rapidly escalating situation, an aerial shell rocketing off and exploding into a shower of silver stars only adding to the urgency.

"Fuck! What the fuck, argh!" Iowa was swearing worse than she had done the last time she tried cooking bacon on her hot gun barrels, intent on putting as much distance between her and all the noisy carnage. "Shit! Goddamn it even sounds a bit like artillery! O'Brien, down!" A rocket streaked past her shoulder with a whiz, Jeremiah O'Brien ducking low to evade it as it flew past them and went out with a bang a few feet ahead.

The four of them didn't stop running until the remains of that rocket were well behind them, and only then, after much panting and swearing, did they hit the ground. "This was such a mistake," the Liberty ship howled a little dramatically, flopping facedown on the ground with a groan. "I regret everything." "Motion seconded,'" Langley grumbled, the carrier's arm over her eyes. "How long until the Admiral finds out about the overpowered pyrotechnics?" "Dunno," Iowa replied, rolling over to brush the dust off her front. "Let's just hope he doesn't tell the rest of the brass, or we'll be in more trouble than we're already in."

A little breathless and clutching his chest, Titanic propped himself up on his elbows to watch the fireworks going up in smoke, stars, and sparks, making a hell of a racket in the process: crackles and bangs and the occasional wheeeeee of a whistle bomb running down to its sharp report. Blanching a little at the idea of just how much trouble they would surely be in, how bad their punishment would be, he dropped back down, covering his face with his hat before voicing his thoughts.

"Either way we slice it, and this is just my estimation, our geese are going to be so cooked you could serve the whole flock for dinner."