She had just left the line at the food truck, her old favorite the bacon cheeseburger warming her hands. The abyssal had been making her way towards building two, admiring her lunch's quality compared to the ones she made at Jack in the Box, before she was intercepted by Dan. The Foreman asked to see her in the office, ignoring the lunch the Wo-class had clearly been looking forward to. Inside, the Jellyfish Princess was waiting, her presence filling the small building with her familiar comforting fog. To Trinitite's surprise, Dan wasn't particularly fazed by her Princess, offering her a paper cup of coffee and motioning for the Wo-class to take a seat.

Dreams were strange that way.

Trinitite's old Princesses talked for a few minutes, the abyssal quietly watching as they argued about… something. The details escaped her, now. Tensions slowly rose, the forgotten point of contention agitating Dan more and more, while Her Mother remained as serene as ever. The abyssal's worry continued to grow until the navy human who'd threatened her with a megaphone kicked the door in. Instead of issuing any threats or paying any attention to Jellyfish, he turned to Trinitite and demanded a number four with no tomatoes.

Things deteriorated from there. Consciousness eventually intervened, rescuing her from the scrambled mess of the unconscious.

Her return to the real world felt… softer than it normally had been. The ground under her hull was far more even then Trinitite had become used to, warping with her weight to evenly support her keel. It wasn't quite like water, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The softness of the material wrapped around her lent a comforting feeling she hadn't quite known before.

This was unusual. She should be worried, but something kept her crew from scrambling to their general quarters. …yes, she'd found- no, been forced into a new anchorage, which was why Trinitite was merely confused, rather than panicked. The rustle of the weather disturbing the trees was gone, her new 'harbor' replacing the now-familiar noise with a regular, metallic patter. Grunting, she spun in place, feeling the way the sleeping bag and blankets twisted around her as her head found a fluffier section of her pillow.

Pillows… she'd known them from her crew, but hadn't thought to try and get one herself yet. It just wasn't something that ships used. Now, however, she realized how much of a missed opportunity that had been. Yes, she'd rested her head on plenty of things while sleeping, but a dedicated tool for comfort hadn't seemed necessary… until now.

Oh, all the nights she'd spent resting her head on a slab of concrete, or dry root! How hadn't she thought to get one of these before?

Light started to filter into her rangefinders as her eyes crept open. That was a downside, she supposed. Living inside a human settlement during the night meant that, even limited by the windows above her, the light pollution would be all around her. At least in here, she didn't have much fear of being spotted.

Rain was striking the deck above her, creating that pattering noise that Trinitite had woken to. The water distorted the vehicle's windows, making it difficult to see outside, but that lack of visibility worked both ways. If the Navy wanted to find her, they'd have to walk up to the windows of every parked car in Washington, instead simply waiting for another… whomever that was to stumble into her in the dark.

She checked her chronometer. Normally, she'd be up by now, but with the change in location her over-two-hour cruise to work had been cut down to just over thirty minutes. She had plenty of time before she was expected to be anywhere. What to do, then?

For a period of time, the answer was simply nothing. The sleeping bag seemed to close around her, trapping her in its soft embrace. Sleep returned, then ebbed away again. Thirty minutes passed. Thirty five. She attempted to fall back asleep, but thoughts that she could be doing something more productive kept her from losing herself in her pillow again.

What could she do, though? She didn't have quite enough time to visit the library, and as far as her host fleet was concerned she didn't have any food, so resupplying could accidentally place her under suspicion.

That left the key.

She scooped the bronze device up with two fingers, examining it with her rangefinders as she wrestled with its implications. Paloma had given her a means to bypass the fleet's defenses-no, their only line of defense, while they were asleep. Ostensibly, it was so she could use the bathroom, but considering the risk they'd taken in handing it out…

Trinitite sat up, grunting as she removed her flashlight from her hold and toggled it on.

She could walk in, raid their supplies, and leave without them realizing. She could even attack them while they were sleeping, and nobody would realize something had happened for… quite a while. Sure, that was possible before due to her strength, but what mattered was that the Martin-Campos fleet didn't know that. This was a sign of trust, one that Trinitite knew she hadn't earned.

Yet.

Change of clothes, flashlight, and makeup kit in hand, Trinitite opened the trunk's door and quietly slid out of the disabled vehicle. It annoyed her that she'd been forced into this situation, but she had to admit that Paloma could be looking to broker something mutually beneficial. Until the human's motives became clear, Trinitite would have to make the most of the situation, which would certainly mean building that trust.

To her surprise, the human she'd been thinking about was there when she entered the building, her face lit by a device on the table. Steady blue light silhouetted her features as Trinitite opened the door, and the human smiled in a way that Trinitite wasn't sure was welcoming or sinister.

"Welcome!" She beamed, "Did you enjoy your sleep?"

"I did." The abyssal reported. "This is the first time I've had trouble getting up."

"I'm glad to hear it. Once you've showered and changed, we can start making breakfast."

"Sounds good." The Wo-class replied. A bit of training seemed like a pretty good way to be productive.

After she entered the head, or 'bathroom,' as the humans called it, Trinitite turned and investigated the doorknob. It would be much worse than embarrassing if she was caught naked in here, but human-built heads all seemed to have some kind of locking mechanism, so…

With the turn of a nob and a light test of the handle, the Wo-class became more secure then she'd ever been for months, and perhaps even longer. Ever since the encounter at Mill Creek, she'd known that no matter how remote the possibility seemed, that a human could stumble upon her at any moment. Normally, she had her disguise on, but summoning her rigging so her paint-and-chip detail could do their work had been nerve wracking no matter how far she wandered from a human settlement.

Here? She didn't have to worry about anything, except for noise and time.

The bathroom was clearly more than a standard head. Besides the toilet and sink, a spray nozzle jutted from a tiled portion of the compartment, pointing into an empty reservoir that reminded Trinitite of the drydocks back at Bikini. The pain that lingered in the back of her mind flared, but she quickly acted to suppress it. This would be just as useless a drydock as the destroyed ones back there, but…

She shook her head. There was no way the abyssal would be able to experiment with someone else's equipment, especially since such attempts would no-doubt be loud, damaging, or obvious in some other way. Besides, she wasn't even sure where to start with a project like that. It was something to think about later, if she ever secured a bathroom for herself. How much did it cost to secure enough territory for a house, anyways?

Adding the question to her research list and setting it aside, she sighed, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her island. Carefully, to avoid damaging the fragile human clothing, she sent the rest of her outfit to the tiled deck as well.

Safe in knowing the locked door kept the human's rangefinders away, the carrier's gaze turned to the mirror. Tan, sand-colored skin, tinged with a pink sheen port and starboard of the nose. Lips a shade or two above blood, and dark hair that wouldn't be out-of-place on some abyssals, but on her felt… it felt...

It was a visage that she was familiar with, from the now-countless sessions she'd spent touching up her disguise. Now that she saw herself in this larger mirror, however, with the coat of clothing stripped away...

Her rangefinders drifted to her throat, then lower as she observed the way the layers of foundation gave way in sloppy splotches to the dark markings where her rigging's collar melded with her skin. She willed the lights back on in her island, the disorientation she'd learned to tolerate fading as light pierced the human face that had been staring back at her, shattering the disguise.

This was what she really was. The disguise, the lie that was Sarah Yarnell, was necessary for survival in human territory. What she'd gotten from Alex and Paloma, however, went far beyond that. Access to secure areas, training, help with miniatures, shelter… if they'd known everything about her, they certainly wouldn't have proposed these deals. If Alex ever saw her like this…

She owed them more then they realized, and needed a plan to start making that up to them.

She sighed, turning towards the shower. How did these things work, again? Her crew used the showers aboard her ever since Mother's damage control training started, but she'd never done it herself. There were two major nozzles protruding from the tiled bulkhead, and only one knob to control it. Thankfully, getting it running was a simple affair of gently turning it and closing a valve, and soon a stream of water was bursting from the nozzle's head. The abyssal stepped into the false-drydock and eased herself into the artificial rain.

Warmth met her, flowing over her deck in smooth rivulets as it poured down her hull. She could feel tension fade as she relaxed, the blanket of water reminding her of the tropical rains back home. Initially, the comfort was enough to keep the looming issues from following her into the shower. However, once her hull started to adjust its temperature to that of the water, her thoughts started to drift back to the conundrum.

She leaned back, adjusting the temperature control and reveling in the return of warmth. Steam started to curl around the carrier as she reconsidered the problem. At the end of the day, all of these problems had one solution: the abyssal just needed more money. More money to compensate the Martin-Campos fleet for her deception, more to resolve her logistics situation, and more to eventually attain a building with a bathroom to experiment on. None of those things would be easy, but unlike the problem of finding her mother, the solution should be fairly simple…

"That's not possible."

Trinitite blinked, unsure if she heard her current princess correctly.

"Say again?"

"I can't just make you full time, Sarah." Shannon continued, her stern face unaffected by the disappointment the Wo-class was failing to hide. "That involves talking with corporate, and they're not going to give you full benefits unless I can prove you're a good employee."

"I don't need the benefits." The carrier bargained. 'Health insurance' didn't sound particularly useful, anyways.

"That's not how labor laws work in the US, Sarah."

"I see."

This was dumb, really dumb, but Shannon had made it to be out of her control and Trinitite didn't know enough to know if she was lying. She'd felt so hopeful when she'd come off her shift, but to be shot down immediately like that...

How was she supposed to get anything done with this little income?

"If you had a phone, I could let you substitute for someone for an additional shift a week, but right now I don't have a good way to contact you in case something like that comes up."

"I'll get a phone." she promised.

"Let me know when you do." her princess dismissed, looking at her own phone. Trinitite knew when she'd been dismissed by a princess, so she quietly left.

"Uh… excuse me?"

The abyssal didn't recognize the human who'd spoken to her (his nametag simply read 'Levi'), but still didn't know all the high schoolers who relieved her at the end of the shift, so this wasn't surprising.

"Hmm?" She acknowledged. She wasn't in much of a mood to deal with a human she didn't know, but he looked pretty nervous, and she guessed she did have a duty to her fleetmates.

"Yeah, I, uh-" his gaze drifted downward as he spoke, the human clearly swallowing. "I heard you were trying to get an extra shift in, and actually was just about to ask Shannon if someone could take my halloween shift."

"Oh." That… was exactly what she was looking for! Trying to keep her glee from showing, she cooly asked. "When is that, again?"

"Same time as now, next monday." He reported, hope creeping into his voice. "You'll do it?"

"Of course, if you can clear it with Boss." The way his face lit up brought a smirk to the abyssal despite herself.

"Don't worry about that!" He pivoted, rushing away from Trinitite and towards their manager. "Thank you!"

The abyssal didn't have any chance to respond, watching the human leave with an enthusiasm that reminded her of some destroyers. Were all High Schoolers like that?

She shook her head, turning to meet with Alex near the building's exit. It wasn't much, but an extra shift a week was an improvement, no matter how small, and small improvements were how she'd gotten this far. As long as she made progress, she would be fine.

"Get everything figured out?" Alex asked, although it seemed he already found the answer on her features.

"I think so." She replied. "Didn't get as many new hours as I wanted, but it's something."

"Just keep pushing." Alex reassured her. "I can tell you care more than the majority of people here. Shannon will pick up on it eventually."

"We can hope." She agreed. Hope was all she had, at times, but for now those times seemed behind her.

This chapter was supposed to be a little more lighthearted and with a lot more work-related things in it, but no outline survives contact with the first draft. Still, I think it turned out pretty well. I skipped over some potentially interesting scenes, like cooking training from Paloma, but I'll have plenty of chances to write that later. The more introspective follow-up to last chapter seemed appropriate anyways.

That being said, I'm not sure if the dream sequence at the start of the chapter was a good move. Please let me know if that experiment worked out.

Thinking about trying a Nashville-centered interlude, next, but not sure it'll be worthwhile considering how much they've lost the trail to Trin. Perhaps that alone is enough of a reason to dedicate a chapter...

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!