Trinitite tried her best to keep her tears out of her eyes. She was almost alone in this library, sure, but she was certain saltwater would damage her disguise, not to mention the library's computer. At first, Saratoga's article had been full of pleasant surprises. For example, Trinitite hadn't known Mother was originally going to be a battlecruiser. It was probably lucky this 'Washington Naval Treaty' had cropped up, as the Ra-classes she'd seen could outrun enemy battleships just fine, but not bombers. From her experience, it was always better to have your own aircraft, to fight back!

She'd had a sister ship, too! One who'd been summoned, according to that list of Carriers. Trinitite would have to look into finding her, in case The Navy was still hiding Her Princess after several months. It was risky, but so was pretty much everything she'd done until this point. There were other names that cropped up regularly, too, such as Enterprise and Victorious. Those might be investigating later, as well.

Beyond that, Trinitite enjoyed reading her Princesses's story, despite the uninspired manner the article depicted it. Learning of how many 'Fleet Problems' she fought in gave Trinitite's mere two years on the water some perspective, and seeing other names in Jellyfish's story answered other questions she didn't think she'd get a chance to answer. Knowing that the Isolated Island Princess had been on Saratoga's side during the last major war gave her name new meaning, and Jellyfish's rivalry with the installation at Eniwetok suddenly made much more sense, given the one-sided battle the two had had back then.

Speaking of which, Trinitite hadn't known Mother had seen so many battles, even sinking an enemy Carrier during the last war! Between that, the islands she'd bombed, and her aggressive performance in fleet problems, Trinitite couldn't help but wonder if Mother had missed a major opportunity with her Wo-class daughters. Sure, Her Princess had taught her how to operate a CAP, direct fighters, and hunt submarines, but during her training methods of attacking enemy ships had been… skimmed over. They'd paid for that dearly during the defense of their Atoll. Had her princess… made a mistake?

She knew that Abyssal Princesses weren't infallible, and Jellyfish herself had said that she'd been wrong when she thought she could stand up to the fire, but this? It hurt for Trinitite to say this, but this must have been a serious blunder. Maybe good attack training wouldn't have saved their fleet- the human forces dedicated to eradicating them were far too numerous, but she wasn't sure they'd sunk any enemy carriers. A couple torpedo hits, sure, but if a handful of torpedo strikes was all it took to sink a carrier Trinitite would have lost Hypocenter well before The Battle of Bikini.

Damn submarines. The name of the submarine who'd hit her sister still eluded her, but whomever she was, she had escaped. It looked like Her Mother had suffered the same fate as well, taking hits from two of those pre-sunk lurkers in her previous life. At least in this case, the article gave names.

I-6, I-26: I'll remember you two.

It was all so brief, yet there was so much information here! Deep, Trinitite wished her mother had told her these things herself! She'd always get so… personal with her stories about her previous life, and she was always so emotional when she was thinking of her life before The Fire. Trinitite desperately wanted to ask not what happened in her fight with Ryujo, but how it had felt to have been there. Some text written by a human seventy years later wouldn't compare to what Jellyfish would have said, and on top of that Trinitite could have experienced the story with Firestorm and Hypocenter.

Yet, she hadn't. All her stories had either been about her old daughters- the Essex class, if Trinitite had to guess- or The Fire itself. Those… hadn't been so happy.

Operation Crossroads

Back before the emergence of the Central Princess, Hypocenter and Herself were escorting a convoy to resupply The Aircraft Carrier Princess's fleet. Considering the obvious offensive The Princess and her allies were planning, the Humans in Hawaii took special interest in ensuring Trinitite's charges didn't reach their destination. Even with help from another fleet, attacks on the convoy had been relentless, culminating with an attack by Firebringer Fighters she'd never forget.

Her CAP must have damaged the first fighter, the enemy aircraft dropping it's bombs prematurely as they wobbled home. Her aircraft got good hits on the second as well, the human machine's speed playing against it as it spun out of control. Trinitite had no idea what it's ultimate fate was, because like most jet-powered aircraft, the third fighter had no issue blowing through her defense, bearcats unable to bring their cannons to bear before the human fighter was among the convoy. The memory of watching the sleek grey aircraft dart through a maze of tracers and flak stayed with Trinitite, more than most, because she remembered frustration turning to horror as the jet's bombs tumbled away from its wings, connecting with perhaps the worst possible target the human could have chosen.

Unfortunately for Trinitite, her convoy, the human fighter and one of it's comrades, a few of the bombs met with the deck of a Wa-class loaded almost entirely with battleship ammunition. Trinitite had precious seconds to watch a wall of fire, steam, and shrapnel consume the unlucky human fighter and it's wingmate, before the shockwave had met her, blowing out her bridge windows and disabling a lot of her tower's equipment. After recovering from the ultimately superficial shock of the explosion, Trinitite remembered turning her attention back to where the unfortunate Wa had been, taking in the sight of a mushroom cloud hanging over the now-vulnerable convoy.

The image she saw at the end of Saratoga's article made that look like a depth charge. The surrounding destroyers and smaller ships were like driftwood compared to the pillar of water that filled the image. Her poor mother was partially obscured by the explosion, the blast visibly lifting her out of the water as spray obscured her hull. Trinitite couldn't help but click on it, spending minutes studying the image in morbid shock.

Was this… The Fire?

The rest of the article didn't make anything better. With the same matter-of-fact stoicism the report used with the rest of Her Princess's life, Saratoga's demise was described with far too much detail. Trinitite couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have your flight deck just… ignite, but as someone well acquainted with fires she knew that couldn't be described as 'minor damage.'

But that was only the first explosion. How many 'atomic bombs' did the humans have, if they were willing to use that many on a defenseless fleet?

It had been 400 yards distant, the safe zone from any sane weapon, but Trinitite knew The Fire was anything but sane. She sat back, covering her mouth with her hand as she focused on the last image.

Saratoga (center) sinking, 25 July 1946.

It was an image of despair.

It was… difficult to recognize her mother, with the gruesome damage to her superstructure, but it only got harder once Trinitite truly realized that the mangled hulk slowly slipping beneath the calm seas was Her Princess.

On the bright side, it didn't happen to her twice. Trinitite sniffed, looking down at her hands, now balled into fists in her lap. That wasn't much in the way of consolation. Mother had lived her entire second life in the position where she'd sunk, constantly reminded of her death at the hands of the fire, yet she'd only cared about the fates of her late daughters. Wouldn't it have been better for her to set up a base anywhere else? Had she been suffering all this time, and Trinitite never realized it?

How could the humans do that to her? How could Jellyfish stay in Bikini, instead of relocating anywhere else? How could Trinitite have been so content there, when her mother had been in such a terrible place?

She… she didn't know who to be angry at.

Her hull shook as she took in a shaky breath. Trinitite shook her head, wiping tears- and plenty of makeup probably, away from her eyes.

Trinitite stood, gently sliding the chair back under the… whatever the computer was mounted on. There was some major information she needed before she returned to the construction site, but right now she wasn't going to remember anything else she read.

The Wo-class… needed to be alone.

Anne Campos loved her job. It was a lot of work for not much pay, but maintaining the library during its late shift always kept her entertained. She loved watching someone get lost in a good book or discover something new, and with her normally taking the afternoon shift, Anne was perfectly situated to watch everyone who trickled in after work or school.

Of particular interest was a young woman who'd just discovered Mill Creek library yesterday. Anne tried not to pry into other people's business, but it was getting difficult not to with this new girl. Yesterday, she stumbled into the library soaked to the bone, perhaps on the edge of succumbing to hypothermia! Anne didn't have much of a choice but to try and help her, but with how disoriented the girl acted while Anne got her a towel to dry off and directed her to a heater, it had been a narrow thing.

Thankfully, it seemed like she mostly recovered from her cold episode, as she quickly got wrapped up in wikipedia. She'd had to snap the stranger out of her learning-induced fugue come closing time, although she'd been a bit worried if the strange girl with a cowboy hat would be okay overnight.

Those worries returned with a vengeance when the strange girl stumbled back in, covered in mud and with boots and a coat that looked like they'd been attacked by some rabid animal. This time, the girl made a beeline for the restroom, ignoring Anne's greeting and doing nothing for her concern.

The librarian returned to her work, trusting The Cowboy Hat Girl to take care of herself, but she hadn't expected her to emerge from the restroom wearing an entirely new set of clothes! The cowboy hat was gone, replaced by a drab boonie, while her new tennis shoes and jacket seemed brand new, and dry as well. Where'd she store an entirely new change of clothes? Anne wouldn't find a bunch of destroyed clothes in the restroom's trash, would she?

She checked, finding no evidence of destroyed boots, but beyond that didn't watch the girl any closer. Anne had her own work to do, after all, and didn't want to pry into Hat Girl's business.

That is, until she walked up to the front desk, on the verge of tears.

"How-" She sniffed, pinching her nose with a gloved hand. "When are you closing again?"

"Uh, we're open until six." Anne added, initially unsure of herself. She checked her computer's clock. There was about twenty minutes until then, but that was still a decent amount of time.

"I see." She nodded. "Guess I'll be going, then."

Before Anne could say anything else, the girl turned, disappearing through the library's entrance.

Huh. Did she just learn someone in her family died? Anne looked back to the computer she'd been working on. Could there be some kind of tragic news there she was missing out on? For a few seconds, Anne tried to get back to her work, but soon curiosity got the better of her. Abandoning the front desk and approaching the computer, Anne skimmed the still-active screen.

It was just some article about a ship.

A ship… That probably wasn't what made Hat Girl get so emotional, but if it was, then that might explain some things. Why didn't she seem all that bothered about being wet, and why was she able to produce a new change of clothes seemingly out of thin air?

It was like puzzle pieces were starting to slide into place. Mill Creek Library had been visited by a shipgirl! She shouldn't have been surprised by that, as Everett wasn't that far away, but shipgirls were always so plastered across the internet and media that Anne just guessed she'd recognize one if she ran into them.

Then again, she didn't pay that much attention to that kind of thing. It reminded her of the war, and worrying about that was stress she didn't need to deal with. She doubted she could name every american carrier, let alone the dozens of cruisers that The Navy had. Then, if you factored in foreign shipgirls, and those who'd recently been summoned but not announced yet, then it was no wonder Anne hadn't recognized Hat Girl.

She'd had a conversation with an honest-to-got shipgirl! Anne's wife was going to be so jealous when she told her over dinner tonight.

Anne sighed, closing the ship girl's browser session and logging her off. Hopefully she was doing okay.

The library was only a few yards away, but a thin line of trees obscuring the entrance made Trinitite feel like she'd retreated to an entirely new area. Sound from the road was muffled by a small hill, perhaps built by the Library as some sort of fortification. Besides the distant noise of rubber on asphalt, a thin rain pattered against the leaves of the trees sheltering the small field from the rest of the world. Whenever the wind picked up, the cable used to hoist the american flag would go taught, slamming against its flagpole with a series of clangs.

Trinitite wasn't alone here. Shouts and laughter echoed a couple human destroyer-analogues slithering around a strange structure of brightly-painted steel and plastic. Since they seemed to be giving the Wo-class no attention, she ignored them as well. Another normal-sized human was sitting, watching the others do… whatever they were doing, but again she seemed too preoccupied to focus on Trinitite.

In other words, she was functionally alone, sitting on a seat formed from wooden planks and watching rain water slowly dripping off her hat. With each drop that gathered on the rim of her hat and fell to the ground below, a single phrase repeated in her head.

Surplus to postwar requirements.

How could a fleet ever have so many carriers, it would designate some as 'surplus?' And was that good enough reason for the humans to not only subject her to a weapon as powerful as the fire, but hit her again after she managed to survive? Yet, the shipgirl who was once her mother seemed to easily join the Humans, even after that. Were the memories of shipgirls suppressed somehow, making them blind to the wrongs that humanity had committed against them?

Trinitite was sure many other Abyssal Princesses would respond with a wholehearted 'yes' at that statement, but that theory didn't sit right with her. Now that Trinitite had a change of scenery, she remembered more from Her Princess's stories, about how she hadn't been bothered that 'her time' had come. Jellyfish had known that she was doomed, one way or another, and freely accepted that fact. It was… an odd way to think, now that she considered it, but Mother never cared much for herself. She'd always been last in line for resources, unless the fleet insisted she resupply, and was always willing to take the time to comfort a distressed subordinate.

Were most ships who'd originally been steel-hulls normally so… apathetic to their own destruction? Was that something that was a part of their nature, and were most Abyssal Princesses an exception? She wouldn't know unless she'd met some, and for some reason they didn't try to kill her.

Trinitite's mind refocused on that awful explosion. If humans had ever used these 'atomic bombs' on abyssal forces, then horror stories of The Fire would have spread across the abyssal fleets like they had across her deck back at Bikini. They hadn't. The oblivion that Mother always fretted over hadn't come, yet, although Trinitite now had solid proof that it was a very real thing. She wouldn't get the chance to present it to the Princess that called the Crossroads Fleet a 'Doomsday cult,' but it was good to know her faith in Her Mother had been well-placed.

Why hadn't they, though? If any Princess besides her mother had access to a bomb that large, then the only reason they wouldn't use it would be if they wanted to save it for later. How rare was The Fire? She needed to research that, soon. Hopefully The Firebringers didn't keep that a secret. If so, then the destruction that Her Mother warned of was coming, but only during a decisive battle, like the one Midway was always trying to create. If not…

It had taken two bombs to sink Her Mother. Maybe they weren't as effective as Trinitite thought? She wasn't sure how an explosion like that could be ineffective, but while the explosive Wa-class had disabled almost all air search radars and a lot of other important equipment in the convoy, her demise hadn't sunk anyone. Mother always said that the firebringers proved that carriers like her and her daughters were obsolete, but what if that wasn't true? Contradicting her mother like that went against every rivet in Trinititie's body, but she had the clarity that came from not being in Operation Crossroads, while Jellyfish had experienced it from practically it's dead center.

Her mind went back to her own experiences at Bikini Atoll. Of Her Princess overcome by feelings, clinging to that enemy carrier.

Maybe… The Firebringers had actually failed, and her old daughters hadn't been lost, after all.

Where did that put her?

Trinitite shook her head, rubbing tears from her eyes once again. That was a stupid thought. Saratoga, as she'd been known, had clung to the shipgirl so much because she thought that carrier was dead. She must think Trinitite was dead, as well. Maybe, just maybe, if she could prove to her that she was alive without giving herself away to the rest of the Navy…

She didn't want anything to do with the humans and whatever plans they had, but her Mother was a different story. Hopefully, this proved that Her Princess and whatever she'd become weren't that different. Trinitite just wanted to talk to her again.

She sighed, looking back up at the Library. She wanted a lot of things. She wanted to reenter the library and look up more questions from her still-growing list, but they were closing in a few minutes, so Trinitite wouldn't have the time to read anything. She wanted her sisters back, but even if they did eventually return, it would probably be under one of the many abusive idiots that she'd had the pleasure of refusing orders from. She wanted to get back on the ocean and be a Carrier again, but obviously that wasn't going to happen.

She stood, even more water rolling off her hat as she disturbed it. Like always, it was best to focus on small goals that she could achieve. She'd passed that 'Baskin Robbins' building again on the way here, and wanted to figure out what the deep that place was.

Time to deal with one of her wants, at least.

Nimu's a good girl, Trinitite! Put that depth charge down!

In other news, if you look up the Ra-class and don't find anything, then don't be alarmed. I decided to invent a new shipgirl class, because there isn't any good category to slide "Abyssal fodder battlecruiser." into. If you do find something, then I guess they added a Ra-class to the game, but I highly doubt it would be a battlecruiser, so, yeah. This is before that, and in this fic either Ra-classes are battlecruiers, or I've retconned abyssal battlecruisers to have another name, and this paragraph would look much different. More details on those later, but probably not in the story. They aren't particularly relevant, outside of my worldbuilding documents.

As for the chapter itself, this one came easier then I thought it would. The major delay here was a CS project, but that's done now. I don't make any garuntees or schedules, but expect a bit of a flurry of writing despite the new War Thunder update and Girls Frontline event. I think Trinitite only has to deal with one more tragic revelation, so if this fic's getting too melodramatic for you, don't worry.

Also, Mill Creek has better hours then my local library, I'm jealous...