USS IOWA, WARSHIP AND HISTORIC NAVAL MUSEUM TO BE SCRAPPED!
The news left much of the galactic community shocked, but the Big Stick herself is closing indefinitely and set to be scrapped come December 2179. Due to a decline in interest and lack of care the historic floating museum located in the megalopolis of Los Angeles is seeing her final days. In the latest public safety inspection the city's board of health and safety has labeled the ship as too hazardous for visitation, as a lack of funding has led to a steady decline of the ship's condition. There are many factors that went into this decision, and all of them will be discussed in this article.
The 61st battleship of the United States, USS Iowa was originally commissioned on the 22nd of February in the year 1943 for Earth's Second World War. Her and her three sister ships were recommissioned three times until they were returned to their museum ship status in 2020. The last recommission was due to Humanity's mysterious Abyssal War, and the warship was eventually stricken from the naval register in 2105, two years after the Second American Civil War. Ever since Humanity's ascension to the stars—
Iowa dismissed the article with a tired sigh, leaning back in her office chair to just… think. The ticking of an old clock lulled her into that weird space most have with their thoughts, and all sense of time drifted away. Time… what an interesting thing to think about. The time she spent with her friend, the time she spent fighting, her time as a ship, her time as a ship-girl, her time after the Abyssal War… Where did the time go? After the Abyssal War had ended, the Shipgirls of the world were no longer needed. They had fought in one of the bloodiest conflicts the world had seen, and when humanity fell back into its petty squabbles they were exempt from service. Ironically, none of them returned when those wars broke out. After all; there'd be a risk that they'd fight their friends, their comrades they had shed blood with during the Abyssal War. So released from their service, everyone kind of just… went their separate ways.
She heard that Kongou settled down with the former Admiral, and after her late husband's death she vanished. She popped up every once in a while, but that combined with the loss of her sisters? The poor girl had simply lost too much. Hoshou opened a bakery, one that quickly became a popular worldwide chain. Enterprise settled down somewhere in the Midwest to start a farm with her own husband. Kaga opened a library, choosing solitude and peace after her sister's death. Yamato, despite the relentless teasing, opened her own traditional hotel. Bismarck settled down in rural Germany where she also started a family, working as a carpenter, last she heard. Fubuki was the one that startled everyone, boldly and publicly opening and founding the largest international veteran's hospital and help organization. Within the decade the problems of veteran homelessness worldwide had dropped to near zero. And Iowa herself? Well…
One look out of her window answered that question, as her once proud hull sat quietly and mournfully in the water. Sometime in 2025 Iowa chose to become the curator and owner of the Battleship Iowa Museum. That fact once sewed much confusion, as she was the only Shipgirl summoned while her warship was also in service. New Jersey? Sunk in 2002, summoned later that year. Missouri? Sunk the same year, summoned in 2003. Wisconsin? Sunk 2007, summoned two years later in 2009. Herself? The Big Stick never sank, kicking Abyssal Ass for two decades with three retrofits up and down the West Coast. Pivot Sound, the Second Battle of Midway, the Fourth Battle of the Coral Sea, the Solomon Blitz, and almost a hundred convoy runs to and from Japan. At the war's conclusion she had planted a big wet kiss on the captain's cheek, and the two had remained fast friends until his death.
To dispel the confusion, she was given the designation of BB-61A, and the warship had been given BB-61B. At the end of it all they had amassed a combined 32 Battle Stars and fourteen medals. Regardless and despite their combined service history, when she had approached the museum and asked if she could help in any way they had all but shoved the position into her lap. It was somewhat annoying at first, but now she loved it. Seeing the awed faces of people touring the ship, giving tours herself, walking the familiar decks and telling stories. It all kept the history alive. She had performed her duty as curator for 160 continuous years. Now it was all over.
The ramps were pulled back, the gates closed, and the lot completely empty. Battleship Iowa herself was in a more sorry state than she was. All of the paint had faded away in ugly blotches to reveal the steel beneath, and she had gotten a new paint job in the form of ugly rust. The entire ship wasn't covered—yet, but it was far too much for her liking. Her guns were raised defiantly against her fate but even that was failing, as one of her nine barrels was hanging limp. The glass of her bridge was dusty and dirty, and just about every compartment inside was the same. She and the last volunteers had painstakingly removed every single relic and moved it to a temporary building a few minutes walk away. It was all they could do to preserve the ship's legacy. Worst of all? The ship was listing about 4 degrees, meaning that enough water had leaked through the ship somehow, pooling in the lower decks. It was a safety hazard, but that wasn't the reason why she was getting scrapped.
With the advent of space ports, deep water ports became nearly obsolete overnight. Very few remained in North America, and though Los Angeles was one of them a lot of space was being… changed. The USS Iowa's home became prime real estate overnight, and Iowa found herself in a war she was entirely unprepared to fight. Business…
People had been trying for decades to get her to close up shop. The problem was that there wasn't anywhere to go, the sad reality was that no one was willing to take on the USS Iowa. Not that she could blame them… Finding a drydock willing to take the ship was simply too expensive, and relying on donations wasn't enough anymore. With the frontier of space now open to humanity… people didn't care anymore. Even with her service during the Abyssal War, that was only a few decades away from being two centuries old. The battleship herself was nearing 240 years old! Interest waned, and so too did visitors and the money they brought. And moving to another home would require a drydock appointment, because nobody wanted an old and rusty battleship taking up space. So… Iowa encapsulated the spirit of her old sailors, and embodied the ultimate stubborn old woman persona. She wouldn't budge an inch, this was her Thermopylae, her Wake Island, her Iwo Jima. This was the hill she was going to die on, and if the corporate sector wanted to take her home for whatever the fuck they wanted, they'd see just how stubborn a cranky old veteran could be.
She had weathered world wars and an international naval war, her experience and her determination was her weapon. And when it was clear that money wouldn't sway her, the suits decided to attack her home instead. Her advertisements were slashed, convenient roadwork and coincidental rush hour air traffic made visiting the ship difficult. Her requests for funds or anything to the Los Angeles City Council conveniently got lost. Her home wouldn't survive without visitors, so the suits made sure she wouldn't get any. And the worst part? The long game wasn't one she would win, and she misunderstood their goal. They weren't trying to make the ship less popular, they were trying to make it less safe. She only realized that when the inspection failed, and the decision went through to scrap the old ship. Conventionally, the brother of one of the suits was on the city council. She had lost the war before it even began.
And where were the rest of her comrades during this war? One would assume that Iowa would be resentful, as barely any of them lifted a finger to help her during any of it. And honestly? It hurt, it really did. But she wasn't going to be bitter about it. Everyone had their own lives, and she wasn't about to ask them to take up arms when they had all finally found peace. And it wouldn't have helped anyways, because if every single Shipgirl pitched in the money they still wouldn't be able to afford a full refit. And besides; a number of them were off-world. So yeah, it hurt that so few came to her aid, but she wouldn't fault any of them for it. Besides, she never asked. Begging just wasn't in her nature.
And well, depressing as it was, this was the eventual fate of every ship. She was just surprised she managed to hold out for as long as she did. Just about every card was stacked against her from the beginning. But none of that mattered anymore, in a few months the sad sight of her steel-borne sister would be nothing but a memory. Maybe she could petition the Alliance to reuse her steel, use it to build a new Everest or something. Hell, she'd settle for a frigate as long as it meant it wouldn't go to waste. But the likelihood of that was slim. She didn't really have a voice in Terran politics, and despite her status as a Systems Alliance Blue Navy vessel (though most left the service entirely, a number of Shipgirls remained in passive reserve in case they were needed again) it had become abundantly clear that the Systems Alliance had little use of her. Maybe she could finagle a favor? There were a number of Alliance politicians who could trace their lineages to the US Navy… No, that was bordering on the realm of fanciful.
Iowa slid open a drawer and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, over half empty. She was about to bring it to her lips when she heard the buzzer to her office go off. Giving the bottle a longing look she sighed and returned it to its home before closing the drawer with a tad more force than necessary. She did a once over in an old picture and sighed again. A tired and haggard woman looked back at her, not at all the look of a curator receiving a visitor. Her golden-blonde hair was practically a lion's mane, and while she wouldn't have bothered all those years ago she had… tempered herself in the past few decades. The exuberant and bouncy fast battleship was still there, but it was kept well on a leash. With some effort she drew her hair into a ponytail before sliding a pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her ever-present stars were considerably dimmed due to her running two of her eight boilers. The glasses weren't necessarily needed, but the woman herself was also long past her due for drydock. She didn't want to bother the repair ships she knew, and she had been too busy with her war against the suits. Plus, she looked good in glasses.
She stood up and smoothed the navy blue peacoat she was wearing as well as her khaki slacks. Her outfit was also stashed away, because as much as she loved it she didn't have much use looking like a 40's pinup doll anymore. And last but not least she fastened a black baseball cap to her head. Shining in silver was the silhouette of the USS Iowa with the standard gold lettering USS IOWA in bold above it and the BB-61 below it. Every volunteer wore it with pride despite how silly the tradition seemed. She was no exception. She scrutinized the woman in the mirror before giving her cheeks a solid slap, trying out a smile and wincing afterwards. She tried again with a bit more success and did her best impression of the Iowa of old. It was a sad excuse to the original, but most everyone else would get fooled by it.
She keyed the lock before opening the door, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry 'bout the wait. Had something I was almost done filling out. How can I help you?" She reigned in the majority of the surprise as an Asari of all people stood in front of her. Like the majority of her species she had an ageless beauty and a pleasant indigo skin. A few white markings dotted her crest and under her eyes but the rest of her face was bare. She wore a surprisingly plain burgundy dress, though that may have been unfair. It was just that any Asari that Iowa had seen were always… fashionable? The dress was well-made but it wasn't overly gaudy. What drew her attention were her intelligent and sharp green eyes, the same ones that Mo' had.
"Oh, no problem! Are you miss Iowa?" The Asari asked with a smile. A brief check to her internal clock revealed that it was close to closing time but…
"The one and only," she said easily. Even in her melancholy she managed to dredge up for old Iowa.
"Ah! It's an honor to meet you," Iowa took her offered hand and tried not to strain her smile. She was really hoping this wasn't a fan girl. For reasons unknown it wasn't just humanity that… admired the Shipgirls. Everyone she knew had gotten at least one creepy visitor, though the memo of 'personified warship' slipped the minds of anyone with less than pure intentions. Considering Shigure pasted a Batarian with her demure 42,000shp, Iowa's available 212,000shp would be more than enough to deal with a single Asari. "And honestly it's a little embarrassing but I can't find the museum."
Iowa blinked. "You didn't see the sh— sign?" She almost slipped. The ship wasn't the museum anymore, the west wing of their building was.
"There was a sign?" Her guest looked back down the hall, confusion evident in her voice.
"There should be," Iowa peeked past her shoulder. Unless… and sure enough the sign was missing. Iowa's eye twitched and a tick mark formed on her forehead. Daniel you lazy— The Asari turned back around and Iowa's mask was fixed in a second. "But it would appear that one of my volunteers forgot to set it up. Come on, I'll give you a tour." She slipped past the Asari and walked down the hall.
"Oh! You don't have to if you're busy."
Busy wallowing in booze and depression? "Nah, I have time to spare. By the way, never got your name?" Iowa smirked as she looked back, noticing her guest's eyes dart back up with a purple two-fold blush. One part was because she never introduced herself. The other was that the entire way down the hallway her eyes had been glued to Iowa's stern. She knew, and her guest knew that she'd been caught. The Asari race as a whole were more… liberated than most others, and Shipgirls tended to be supermodels. So she wasn't angry, in fact it was flattering, but she didn't swing that way.
"A-Apologies. My name is Ay'ana Tevos." She gave a small bow as Iowa opened the door.
"Tevos huh? Sounds familiar. Nice to meet ya regardless. I'm the curator of the Battleship Iowa museum, but you already know who I am so I'll save ya the whole spiel." With a push the door swung open and Iowa gestured inside. "Everything here was originally housed in the ship itself, but when it closed the volunteers and I took everything out and set it up in here. If you have any questions lemme know, or if you want a narration I can do that too."
Ay'ana stepped in an almost reverent state, bringing a small but genuine smile to Iowa's face. She cocked her hip and just watched as her guest milled about the exhibits. Seeing someone genuinely enjoying the artifacts brought back happy memories of times when she gave guided tours about the ship itself. It was somewhat strange that an Asari of all people was interested, but she couldn't complain too much. Iowa answered every question the woman had, sometimes giving her own input from her own memories as her bigger sister outside. Memories from that time were odd to say the least, but it was still something she 'remembered.' In particular, and something she avoided talking about, were her memories from the accident in 1989.
The museum itself had everything from real 16in shells and old marine issued M16 rifles, to machine shop equipment and lathes. One wall was dedicated entirely to pictures taken throughout her service. From WWII to the Abyssal War, black and white and fully colored. One in particular made her smile. The majority of the crew was posed on and around turrets 1 and 2 with her striking a pose in the front, all dolled up in her old Shipgirl uniform. It was right after the conclusion of the war, no one could believe that both Iowa's made it through intact so it was a huge promotional event. Other pictures included the ship's christening, fleet formations, pictures taken from other ships, the infamous picture of all nine batteries opening fire at once, and a number of photos included the woman herself. Propaganda photos, USO events, pictures from her time at the Yokosuka and Kure naval bases, and pictures from when she received medals for her service during the Abyssal War. That time she was in full dress whites, a far cry from her normal outfit. They had even saved the videos of when Iowa became a museum in 2020, detailing the incredible effort the first volunteers put in to save her from the scrap yards. It sent a pang through her heart, knowing that the state that the Iowa was in was far worse than back then. By the time Ay'ana was done looking at everything it was almost an hour past closing.
"I'm sorry, I got a bit lost in there! There's just so much history here, all from one ship." Iowa locked the door to the exhibits and half-led half-followed the Asari back outside.
"You a history nerd?" Iowa asked, amusement evident in her voice.
"I would've put it more eloquently, but yes." Ay'ana huffed. Both of them leaned over the railing overlooking the decrepit battleship, rusted steel and rotten teak decks lit up in the evening sun. The hull numbers were pitifully faded with the majority of the 6 gone entirely.
"I'd have offered you a tour of the ship itself but…" Iowa shrugged a shoulder, her controlled mask hiding the turmoil underneath. "Two hundred and thirty six years… Almost forty of those were in direct service to humanity and well…" Ay'ana studied the woman next to her for a long moment, trying to find anything to say. To be honest the only reason she was on Earth was because of a conference, but when the news broke she decided a quick stop was warranted. Mainly she just wanted to experience the exhibits before they were gone for good, but after actually seeing them things were… different. Most of all though was the passion and love the curator had for the ship itself, and understandably so. Iowa was not what Ay'ana had expected, but that wasn't a bad thing in the slightest. Upon telling the galaxy of Humanity's history there was a significant amount of interest directed at the fabled "Shipgirls," and for good reason! No other species had anything remotely similar, there was literally no comparison. Doubts were cast, interviews demanded, but Humanity's response was admirable. The Shipgirls had been born for the sole purpose of war and had fought non-stop for roughly two decades, some losing their sisters in the process. They had earned their peace ten times over, and the System's Alliance wouldn't force them into anything they didn't want to do, nor would they disclose any identities without express permission first. Of course, over time there had been interactions but they had been far from satisfying. For all intents and purposes they were civilians, long-lived humans. Talking to them was like talking to any veteran, with the expected differences.
So with most dossiers limited to who they were during the war, all Ay'ana knew was exactly that. Iowa was described as a bubbly and extroverted battleship who was "violently American," whatever that meant. She was like a big sister to everyone she came across, even if she could be oblivious to Japanese customs at first, and she was an absolute monster when in combat. Overall she was playful and good-natured, and incredibly overt. Meeting Iowa was a completely different story. The Iowa she had gotten to know over the course of the past hour or so was much more reserved and well-mannered. She was still playful and was more than willing to crack a joke here and there, but she was far more reserved. It was like the difference between an Asari maiden and a matron. So no, it wasn't a bad change, just an unexpected one. And she was hurting, even though she tried to hide it she was an open book.
So with all of that… "Think I could buy you a drink?" They weren't words of encouragement, those wouldn't be much help anyways. It was an olive branch, and if her read on Iowa was somewhat accurate…
The Shipgirl barked a laugh. "I'd love a drink right about now."
"It's such bullshit! Y-You wanna know what it comes down to? Fuckin' real estate! They want the land, they don't give a fugh that she's a historical monument…" Iowa bemoaned to her brand new drinking buddy. It was initially just a chat about history and the ship itself but then one drink became two, then two became ten… Ay'ana was only on her fourth and only somewhat tipsy. Iowa on the other hand was known by her Japanese comrades as an invincible warlord when it came to drinking. It wasn't anything light either. To the combined consternation and joy of the bartender she had drained them of their bourbon supply completely. She paid for all of it, but it meant he wouldn't be able to sell it to anyone else. The result? Loose lips wouldn't sink a ship that was already due to sink so she became… chatty.
"Is that really all it boils down to?" If so then Ay'ana was shocked, but in regards to the corporate sector such decisions weren't beyond the realm of possibility. Money was king there, no matter who they had to trample to get it.
"Yep! And I misunderstood their game. They wanted the ship out of the way, so if it gets scrapped then they get exactly what they want. Nothing I can do anymore…" Iowa near whimpered as she rested her head in her hand, swirling her freshly filled glass in the other.
"Nothing? How much would it cost to get her into a drydock?" Iowa's response was to drown an entire glass of straight aged whiskey and slam the glass down with just enough force not to crack it. "That much?" Iowa stared at the table and sighed.
"It was 20 million USD when the ship first became a museum, take into account modern inflation and how that currency translated into universal credits, and add in some generous rounding to our advantage? We're looking at anywhere from 80 to 150 million credits." Ay'ana choked on her drink in response. "It would almost be cheaper to build a new Iowa Class. Find me a shipyard on Earth that'll do that…"
"A shipyard on Earth…" the Asari muttered to herself, suddenly thinking. "How much are you getting to… sell… the Iowa for?" Because after the Second American Civil War Iowa suddenly found herself in an interesting position. With the uncertain economy of the new United North America she was able to spend a significant amount of money to purchase the ship itself. The museum, which she ran, owned the land and space the Iowa took up and Iowa herself owned the ship. To her knowledge she was the only person in the galaxy to have a privately owned blue-water warship. It may not have made much sense now, but the city of Los Angeles happily took her money in the moment. As such she was given the "privilege" of choosing who broke up the ship and how much money she'd get for it.
"For the condition? Couple million at most. Maybe not even that," the Shipgirl muttered. Ay'ana smiled suddenly, and suddenly a plan was coming together in her somewhat drink-addled brain. It would be the long-shot of all long-shots, but if enough things lined up they might be able to make it work. She'd have to call in a considerable amount of favors, as well as extend the duration of her stay on Earth, but… it could work.
"I'll give you 15 million tonight to buy the Battleship Iowa from you." Ay'ana suddenly propositioned
Iowa blinked owlishly. "Beg your pardon?"
This could be a case study for a 'crack fic' with how ridiculous the idea is. But I got it in my head and it won't get out so here it is.
I'm going to come out and say it now; don't take this too seriously. The idea alone that America, even in the future, would let the Iowa rot away is unlikely and I doubt that interest would wane that much for it to actually happen. And oh boy it's only going to get more ridiculous from here, but somehow I've gotten the "plot" to a semi-logical path that "makes sense." This is not going to be a long story, probably only a couple of chapters at most, because it's just meant to be a bit of fun. Iowa won't be joining Shepard, though she will make an appearance. Without spoiling anything all I'll say is that I'm going to make the logistics behind the U-505 story look like a joke, so if you know then you know.
If you like Mass Effect but don't love Kancolle/have no idea what it is then don't worry, outside of a few technicalities it won't come into play at all outside of references and some characters. If you like Kancolle but don't love Mass Effect; then my argument is Iowa. If you like both; congratulations, enjoy the absolute mess you're about to witness.
This is a story by a history buff for history buff, and it's going to be ridiculous almost every step of the way. Like I said; don't take it too seriously and hopefully you'll enjoy it for what it is. I don't have an upload schedule at all, and I want to focus more on Crimson Fury, so the frequency that this gets updates (if at all) depends entirely on the reception. Like I said, the idea got stuck and wouldn't leave until I put it to paper. This crossover shouldn't work, but somehow I think I can manage it.
This is a Mass Effect fanfiction… about the USS Iowa as a museum ship… I have the grill and I will cook.
Lord have mercy what have I done… See you guys later!