How did the enemy's society function at all? Given the amount of success Trinitite had seen so far, everyone should have collapsed from exhaustion long before getting a job! The Carrier didn't have much of a problem walking so far, and her supplies were fine for now, but she started five hours ago!

Online this, online that. When the frustrated Abyssal finally asked what online even meant, the woman at the front of the desk laughed her out of the building!

At least she'd learned something from the experience. Passing up the Microsoft Fleet's other buildings in Redmond saved the Carrier a lot of time. There were so many of them, Trinitite was starting to think they owned this town!

Thinking further on the topic, avoiding those buildings was probably for the best. If such a thing as a Microsoft Princess existed, she would be here, and if Trinitite's encounter with the enemy's ships were such a disaster she couldn't imagine how catastrophic meeting a hostile princess would be.

Again, if she existed at all. It didn't feel like there was a Princess in Redmond, but with humans? Who knew?

That was a question to look into later. Maybe when she found a building with a library she'd look for a manual on the subject. That, along with what happened to her princess. Or, what exactly "Online" was. Deep, a guide to getting one of these elusive jobs would be welcome, too!

She was sure she'd run across one eventually, but going out of her way to find one didn't seem wise. For now?

"A brewery, huh?"

Obviously Trinitite didn't know what that was, but it had a help wanted sign, so it interested her. Not everyone used this strange line, right?

This was worse.

The bench sat at the side of the road, shaded from the sky by a metal overhang. A few hours ago and the structure would have been a welcome respite from the sun's glare, but another cloudfront had obscured the sun and rendered the roof redundant.

The defeated Carrier pouted, her rangefinders boring into the set of papers resting in her lap.

APPLICATION FOR EMPLOYMENT

She'd been prepared for the oddity of two names. That was about it, though. Address? E-mail address? Telephone? This was the first section, barely a quarter of the first page, and Trinitite was completely stumped! On top of that, what Trinitite could understand she knew she'd have to fake, but the Abyssal had no chance of doing so convincingly. They wanted contact information of the last people she'd worked for, except she didn't even know what a proper address even looked like, let alone what salary or supervisor she'd had. What even was a salary, let alone a convincing one?

To add insult to injury, Trinitite was certain those 'Online Applications' she'd been pointed to were going to be just as complicated.

The task of finding a library was becoming more important by the hour.

Trinitite sighed, stowing the paper and stepping back into the open. Almost immediately, she was greeted by the periodic pinprick of rain against her hull.

At least this place had the weather going for it. A light storm was nothing compared to her Mother's mist, but it kept the sun away, and didn't overwhelm her with wind and noise like she'd seen around many Abyssal installations. She'd remove her hat so she could enjoy the rainfall fully, but her camoflauge didn't seem particularly waterproof.

The humans around her didn't seem to agree, huddling in on themselves as their paces quickened. Apparently they weren't such fans.

Whatever. She had so much to worry about already that acting like the rain, the only thing she was actually enjoying, bothered her? Let them be suspicious. It didn't seem like they were paying attention, anyways.

She had a library to find. Trinitite would keep fumbling through jobfinding, but it was starting to get more apparent that this wasn't going to go anywhere.

The town had seemed to be coming to an end, and Trinitite was considering turning around, before the buildings around her suddenly thickened again. That a town would suddenly thicken didn't surprise the Abyssal, given how close Seattle, Redmond, and other towns in the area were, but the sudden change in architecture certainly did.

With the possible exception of central Seattle and some of the destroyed cities she'd seen, human structures appeared to be fairly spaced out, the stone and concrete of the large buildings separated by enough space to park her hull between them. Even in the large cities, the underlying architecture had a certain sturdiness to it, the base supports hidden under decorative plaster or stone.

Not true for these new buildings, however. Businesses were crammed together like enlisted bunks, colorful signs displaying more languages than Trinitite knew existed. The buildings themselves were rickety conglomerations of lumber, concrete and plaster, giving Trinitite a strong impression of "good enough." Even the motor pools set in front of the businesses seemed hurried, cars and young trees sharing space with the prefabricated structures she'd occasionally seen towed behind larger vehicles along highways.

The Wo-class hadn't realised she'd gotten used to anything human, but to Trinitite's surprise, the sudden change in architecture seemed off putting. Different.

Perhaps that was a good thing?

Trinitite recognized the language on a lot of these signs from south-pacific ruins she'd passed. Were these run by humans who'd retreated from abyssal territory?

The regular American fleets clung to their applications and regulations, refusing the give Trinitite any more attention than was absolutely required, unless she had some of that money everyone was obsessed with. These might not have found the procedures the Americans used as alien as Trinitite had, but there was a chance they wouldn't cling to them as ridgedly.

Trinitite turned, leaving to road to approach one of the businesses at random. She wasn't entirely sure what every sign said, but one's display was mostly English.

"Luzon Blues."

The building was further labeled a 'Filipino Market' by text set at the bottom of the sign, but Trinitite could already guess to it's nature. In her two years on the oceans, She'd passed the island of Luzon more than she could count, sailing offshore during supply runs for the Depot Princess and the other Fleets that lived and bickered around the Philippines.

As such, she knew the island well. The dark but calm Manilla bay, a maze of structures ashore flooded by permanent storm surge. The Crane Princesses's former abode in the Casiguran Sound, the base of the bitch who threatened her mother calm, now the enemy had sunk her for good. The turbulent currents of the San Bernardino Strait, several Princesses's unique storms crashing to create eddies and currents no one could predict.

That wasn't the Luzon the shop owner had known, was it? The abyssal felt a tightening in her chest as she approached, the pressure in her running boiler rising slightly. She wouldn't say she felt guilty, as neither she nor her fleet had participated in the taking of the island, but the Wo could already feel some form of connection with whomever dwelled here. The war had driven them out of their home, just like it had done to her.

The building's windows were cluttered with sheets of paper, displaying text and images about one fleet or another. She could recognize one for the Navy, of course, but that of others as well. Apparently the nations which used to occupy Abyssal territory hadn't died with their cities. Above the mass of paper, three stars had been placed against the window. Two silver, and one gold. More importantly, a pair of signs hung against what little space on the windows was available.

"Come in, we're OPEN!"

"HELP WANTED."

She'd seen those before, and they always signaled an available job. With a moment to collect herself, the Carrier opened the hatch.

No sooner had the door opened than a bell chimed, the tingling noise catching the Carrier off-guard again. Many of the buildings she'd entered had this kind of alarm attached to it, but it's suddenness still caused the carrier to jump.

Outside, the soothing rain served to keep people occupied. The light downpour had kept them looking downwards, and almost no one had given Trinitite a glance, let alone detailed scrutiny. In here, the sudden noise, combined with her startled reaction, meant every pair of eyes in Luzon Blues were focused squarely on her.

Trinitite froze.

One of the women smiled.

"Welcome! Anything you're looking for?"

The Abyssal jerkily returned the woman's smile, her eyes darting over the Market itself. It was like the Fred Meyer's Warehouse in microcosm. The front of the building, where the human who'd greeted her stood, was crammed with food, vegetables and fruits piled like shells in a magazine. Glass-topped refrigerators filled the store with a low buzz, pink and red meats lit by the machine's internal lighting. Even some ice cream was visible, while further back several canned goods and less glamorous MREs were displayed. Beyond that, several T-shirts were hung against the walls. Besides the sigils of several nation's navies, most displayed symbols and phrases whose meanings which were one again beyond her.

"And if this world runs out of lovers,

"We'll still have each other!

"Nothing's gonna stop us,

"Nothing's gonna stop us now!"

The Abyssal suppressed a wince as the faint music echoed against the crowded building's walls. Did humans actually like this stuff?

Trinitite suddenly realized she was still standing in the doorway, the Human still expecting an answer.

"Oh! Uhh, yeah." The Wo replied, stepping out of the entrance as the door drifted shut. "I saw your help wanted sign."

"Ahh!" The human exclaimed, turning to another woman in a store uniform. To the Abyssal's shock, she started barking out commands in an entirely different language.

It shouldn't have been, as the multitude of signs decorating the new set of buildings were in all sorts of languages, but the store owner was speaking exactly like the Supply Depot Princess. As a security precaution, Her Mother's occasional ally forced her fleet to speak in Fillipino while tending to the Princess's warehouses. As the language was almost unique among the predominantly English and Japanese-speaking fleets surrounding her, any ship trying to steal her precious goods would be found out as soon as any member of their fleet tried to talk to them.

Trinitite had always thought the move unnecessarily, as the Paranoid Logistician's fleet was small enough everyone should have been able to recognize each other, but if the Wo-class regularly told Abyssal Princesses how to run their own fleets, she would have sunk a year ago.

Still, the way she spoke almost mirrored the mannerisms of Trinitite's occasional commander. She even had braided hair! It was like she was looking at a more subdued version of the Abyssal, excluding her dark skin, human clothes, and black hair.

She turned, directing a smile at Trinitite. Come to think of it, if she'd added a pair of glasses…

"Follow me. Let's get you an interview, eh?"

A what?

Well, she'd find out soon enough. Trinitite nodded, following the human to the rear of the shop. So far she wasn't facing the same kind of failure, so had she made progress?

Taking an unassuming door between a rack of dresses and several necklaces, the two found themselves in a much smaller backroom. Mysterious lights were set into the ceiling, releasing a buzzing noise almost quiet enough for the carrier to ignore. Several storage lockers were set alongside the top of a counter, with a few mysterious devices and what Trinititie was starting to recognize as a human refrigerator.

"I'm Ineng Palad. I run this place." She turned, raising a hand and letting it hang in front of her.

The first person she talked to was their commander? That was convenient.

"Elizabeth." Trinitite replied, some long-absent confidence making a resurgence. "Elizabeth Groves."

The Carrier wasn't sure what made a good human second name, but unlike things like email she actually knew what one looked like. Her fleet's destroyers had been given human names, the name 'Groves' in particular was one Trinitite wasn't going to forget.

Only one destroyer had sailed between Trinitite and a torpedo, after all. Using her name to help in the search of their lost Mother wasn't the finest honor the Carrier could give the late abyssal, but she wouldn't have taken offense.

The woman was still holding her hand out. Confused, the Carrier matched her, holding her hand out in the same manner. After another half-second's pause, Ineng suddenly moved. The Abyssal jumped, but not before the human's hand had wrapped around her glove. There was a brief shake, and the contact was suddenly released. The Wo's reaction must have caught the human off guard, as she lingered for a moment after releasing her grip.

"Take a seat." The human offered, motioning to one of the metal chairs scattered across the room. After the Abyssal did so, the oddly familiar human slid another chair in front of her. With several feet between the two, the human folded her hands in her lap.

"So, Elizabeth. Tell me about yourself."

"Alright…" Trinitite nodded, internally rehearsing the story she'd constructed over the past few days. "My name is Elizabeth Groves. I used to live in the Marshalls, but with the war…" Trinitite shook her head, allowing the human to finish her sentence.

"Pardon me for saying this," She nodded understandingly, "but you don't look like an islander."

"My mom's from New Jersey."

"Ahh." Ineng nodded. "You ever held a job before?"

"No." Trinitite admitted, fighting down a sudden rise in boiler pressure. She knew so little about jobs in general that pretending she knew what she was talking about was picking a battle Trinitite had no chance in. Still, admitting she had no experience might sabotage her chances.

"I can see that." Ineng nodded solemnly, before smiling. "Well, it's everyone's first job at some point, right?"

"Yeah." The Carrier nodded back, forcing a laugh. Unlike an Abyssal Princess, this human couldn't snap Trinitite's stern if the Carrier made her angry, but sucking up a little couldn't hurt too much.

"So," the human continued, "why do you want a job here?"

"Well," Trinitite started, unsure of the question. Wasn't it obvious? "I need one, and I saw your sign."

Ineng's face fell, and she leaned back in her chair. The Abyssal's shoulders stiffened as her own seat suddenly felt much less comfortable. Had she done something wrong? That was more likely than not, but in this case she had no idea how her response couldn't be correct. What kind of answer was she expecting?

"Have you ever been here before?"

'Uh…" Trinitite's mind raced, but try as she might she couldn't think of any response besides the obvious. "...No."

"Alright." The woman brought her hand to her head, absent-mindedly wiping her forehead. "I hate to say this directly, but you deserve to know: I don't think you're a good fit for my market."

"What?"

The abyssal felt like she'd been struck. She hadn't thought she'd set high expectations, but with how well things had been going, she was feeling some hope that she'd realize when things were going wrong, and at least have a chance to perform damage control, but her conversation had gone wrong so quickly.

"First: you don't seem fit for a service job. You didn't talk to a lot of people growing up, did you?"

The Abyssal fought down her resurgent pride, shaking her head.

"Yeah. If you need a quick job, I hear a lot of warehouses need hands around here. They don't need social experience, and you can develop some while you work."

"Okay." The Wo replied, remembering the last two warehouses she'd checked. She really needed to figure out this online stuff.

"Second: Practice doing interviews with a friend. There's a few programs in place in Seattle, they should help walk you through the process."

She nodded, remembering the State Trooper's advice. Where were these stupid libraries, anyways? Everyone talked about them but she hadn't seen one so far.

"Third: Lay back a little on the makeup. You're trying to accentuate your features, not paint new ones, and people can notice if you're obvious."

That caught her by surprise. Had her paint-and-chip detail messed up again? That was the second time! From now on, they focused on her hull. No more, no less!

Hey!

"Oh." Trinitite responded, hesitantly pointing towards her face. "Anywhere I can re-do this?"

"Not yet." Ineng replied, before standing. "Elizabeth, I'm also a refugee. I know what you must be feeling right now. Getting let down is hard, but I'm chewing you out to help you, alright? Get some practice, talk to the Office of Refugee Resettlement, and things will get better, okay?"

"Oh, okay." The Abyssal numbly replied. Office of Refugee Resettlement? She'd have to look into that once she reached a library, as well, although telling the United States where she was didn't seem particularly wise.

"Alright." Ineng stuck her hand out. This time Trinitite knew to grab it, but to her surprise the woman instead pulled the carrier to her feet. "Restroom's over there, alright? If you need any help, let me know."

"Aye aye." Trinitite responded, moving towards the hatch indicated. She wasn't entirely sure what a 'restroom' was, beyond this one bearing a label indicated it belonged to employees.

Still, that ranked very low on her problems. This interview might not have been a success, but it certainly gave her a lot to worry about.

Wait, this was just a head! Did humans have special words for everything?

Whooh, this took a little bit of time, for two reasons: One, college stuff, and two, dialogue is always difficult for me. I hope the conversation near the end came off as naturally awkward, rather than just stilted writing, as it was done in a lot of short bursts.

Next one's gonna be another military interlude, while after that we're going to see some actual success on Trinitite's part. "And then she failed" is only interesting for so long, after all.