"We've been under attack since 0748 and you were sleeping?!" Thorson shouted, bringing his hand to his face and cradling his forehead. "How…is that even possible?" At his words Laffey took a step back before looking around her. The expression on her face didn't change, but there was something in her eyes that made Thorson feel as though he'd stepped over a line by scolding her.
"Laffey had a bad dream, a dream of Sakura planes. Laffey shot them down," the girl replied in her same, sleepy voice. Thorson stared at her for a long moment before placing his duffel on the deck. He didn't dare do the same to the final pieces of Arizona that still existed, keeping the cubes safely clutched in his hand. A short walk found him in front of one of the USS Laffey's 40mm Bofors. He reached out and touched the barrel to find it still warm. Further examination of the ammunition clip confirmed his examination. They're empty. Well I'll be damned.
"I owe you an apology, it would seem," Thorson admitted as he returned to Laffey. The girl had moved to the side of the ship, looking over the railing to survey the wreckage of Pearl Harbor.
"Hmm? Who are you?" She asked innocently, gazing up at him with eyes that he finally took the time to notice were a pale red. They were captivating in their own way, enough to make him noticably uncomfortable.
"Who am I? We just met!" He shot back, wondering if the shipgirl was both a sleepyhead and amnesic.
"Laffey knows, but it feels weird for you to be apologizing to Laffey when Laffey doesn't know your name. Hmm? Why are you staring at Laffey?"
"I really…don't know a thing, do I?" Thorson muttered. "I'm sorry, Laffey. You're right. Let me try this again. My name is Commander Andrew Thorson. I was assigned to this base to work with the others in lab B-1. I just got here today. I think I'm the only one left."
The shipgirl didn't miss a beat in her reply. "That's good. You seem nice. Laffey is glad that you were the one who lived. Commanders are not usually nice to Laffey, don't apologize for things." Thorson remained silent. I really don't know anything. "Why did you come to Laffey?"
"Right, yes of course. Admiral Hawkins was killed in this attack. I'm here on his final orders. We've been ordered to flee to an old Azur Lane facility in the Pacific and to aid in the defeat of the Crimson Axis or the Sirens…probably both," Thorson finished dejectedly, remembering the final moments of Arizona and the strange Siren attack craft.
"Laffey cannot defeat all the Sirens," she replied matter of factly.
"No, I wouldn't think so. What do you know about them?"
"Not much, Laffey just knows she is useless," the girl replied, her ears wilting.
"Why are you useless?"
"Commanders say so. Admiral Hawkins says so."
Thorson took a deep breath to steady his nerves, not wanting anger to combine with the already potent mix of fear and adrenaline that still ruled his body as damage control efforts began around them, cannons casting massive streams of water from every functional repair ship in sight. "Can you do what Pennsylvania did out there? Can you control this entire ship by yourself?"
At his request Laffey stepped back from the railing and stood straight as her fake ears perked up. "Is it alright?"
"Consider it an order, if you need to," Thorson replied kindly. Laffey nodded and closed her eyes.
"Deactivating self-imposed limiters." At her words Thorson felt the same sort of shockwave that had passed through him on the deck of the Pennsylvania. Beneath him the silent engines woke and stirred, ready for travel. Torpedo tubes turned out to sea and back as the main guns tested their full rotation. AA guns clicked and swiveled around him and the radar came to life. "Condition green, Commander. Let's go." Thorson knew what he was doing was likely inappropriate in a military setting, but after so much had gone wrong that day he was thrilled to have something, anything go right. Without a second thought he reached out and placed his hand between Laffey's 'ears', rubbing back and forth for a moment.
"Then you're not useless," he reassured her, feeling ever so slightly more at ease as the shipgirl leaned into his touch and let out a much more pleased sounding hum than he'd heard from her before.
"Hmm, Laffey was right. Commander is nice. Laffey will follow the Commander. Where are we going?" She asked innocently as the Commander felt the hull shift slightly beneath him. They were pulling out of dock. He looked away from her, feeling something approximating the shame of a parent who doesn't know the answer to a child's question.
"The Admiral didn't say. He ordered me to take his dog tags but I haven't had a chance to examine them yet. I assume the coordinates are there though in one form or another. For now let's just get out of here without alerting any Sakura patrols."
"That would be best," Laffey agreed. "Laffey doesn't have smokescreens like the Royal Navy girls."
"How much do you know about the Royal Navy?" Thorson asked, surprised to hear Laffey speak of them with such familiarity.
"Hmm, Laffey knows some things. Laffey doesn't know the Commander very well yet though." For the second time since he'd met her Thorson just stared at Laffey. Her size, stature, outfit…everything about her fought against his gut impulse to order her to answer him. He'd been a Commander for less than a week, a ceremonial promotion necessitated by his transfer. Figuring he shouldn't overstep his own instincts and that no matter where they were going they'd have enough time to be acquainted, Thorson nodded silently, choosing to survey the harbor around them as Laffey skillfully navigated through the troubled waters. As they shifted right to avoid a burning cruiser in dock, they passed close to the USS Pennsylvania. She was standing on the bow as if waiting for them, a cold gaze on her face as Laffey slowed so they could speak.
"Where are you going?" She demanded, hands clasped behind her back. She looked much as Thorson remembered her during the raid itself, though if anything she was missing a bit more of her uniform. Even so the shipgirl presented herself proudly, a small anchor-shaped charm in the center of her bra glinting in the morning sun. Thorson cursed himself for yet again being rendered speechless by these curious creations.
"Laffey doesn't know, but Laffey will follow the Commander. He asked nicely," Laffey replied unconcernedly, even turning her lips in a small smile. Her tone, as ever, remained that of a young lady just waking up from a too-short nap. Pennsylvania barked a harsh laugh.
"That's very much like you, Laffey. He asked you?" Pennsylvania repeated incredulously before turning to Thorson. "You're sure you're a commander? Surely you outrank her," Pennsylvania pressed, a hostile edge in her voice indicating to Thorson that she'd likely been 'ordered' around quite a bit in the past.
Thorson found his voice. "What about you? What's your rank?"
Pennsylvania cocked a thin, shapely brow at him. "Weapons have no rank," she spat.
"Then how could I order you?" He replied simply. The battleship looked shocked while Laffey nodded at his side, her ears dipping along with the motion of her head.
"Yep yep, Laffey is right. Miss Pennsylvania should come with us. Laffey would like not being alone." Thorson turned away from Pennsylvania, looking at Laffey again with searching eyes. Every word out of their mouths… he pondered, trying desperately to keep up with all of the implicit and hidden information in the tone and words of the shipgirls he now, in a way, felt responsible for. Will I ever have time to understand them? Or are we just going to fight and die like Arizona? Pennsylvania's stoic exterior had cracked during his brief reverie, replaced by an honest expression, a sad expression.
"Take care of my sister for now, Laffey. Go. I am needed here," the Valkyrie insisted, turning to survey the smoldering deck behind her. "Someone has to watch over the rest, keep them safe from a second attack…and these idiots," she murmured, casing a disdainful look at the sailors who had assembled on the docks but as of yet had refused to board the Pennsylvania to engage in damage control.
"Shouldn't you let them help you out?" Thorson asked curiously as Laffey began to move forward again. Pennsylvania's hardened exterior returned.
"Would you want ants crawling through your veins?"
"No…I wouldn't," Thorson admitted.
"Commander…Arizona." Pennsylvania trailed off, not willing to say anymore. Thorson didn't care if she were some sort of alien construct; he knew what pain looked like and Pennsylvania's eyes were brimming with it. They captivated him, more than her stockings, brasserie, body, or skin; the woman's eyes held his and compelled him to extend a promise.
"I will do everything within my power."
Pennsylvania didn't dare hope to finish Thorson's sentence, turning instead to survey 'her' ship. For as long as she could remember something between indifference and hatred for humanity burned within her. She brought a hand to her head, slim fingers pressing to her temple and trying to contain the headache within. "Damn those bombs hurt," she muttered. "But to meet something…someone like him in a place and time like this? Then he has the gall to run off with that destroyer?! Suddenly existence feels awful…and complicated. Arizona, I'm sorry."
"Why do I feel like I just stared down a grizzly?" Thorson wondered aloud as the proud bow of the USS Pennsylvania slowly receded behind them. Laffey had moved to the bow of her own ship. He wasn't sure if she needed the extra visibility, but it seemed like she enjoyed the breeze in her hair despite the smell of burning oil and gunpowder that still suffused the air around him. "And then you've got her, easygoing enough to sleep through a Sakura attack and then this…" As if to further complicate things, Thorson's attention was drawn to a shock of blonde hair he couldn't help but recognize from that morning. It was significantly darker than he remembered, covered in soot and grime, just like its owner. The tanned woman that Thorson now had plenty of reason to suspect was not crew of the USS Tennessee, but Tennessee herself was sitting on the bow of her own ship. She looked significantly worse for wear than Pennsylvania. Most of her uniform was shredded, covered instead by an unbuttoned blue overcoat that allowed Thorson to see the white of her upper undergarments and the skin underneath. She seemed too exhausted to care. Both of her leggings were torn in various places and she'd lost one of her gloves during the attack. Her hull looked similarly damaged, with deck crew swarming every which way as they tended to the destruction. Thorson recalled Pennsylvania's question, would he want ants crawling around in his veins? No wonder she looks so uncomfortable, he thought. Tennessee's blue eyes met his and he held them, wondering if she would address him. She didn't.
"You doing alright?" Thorson asked, joining Laffey at the bow. They had just about cleared the harbor and were headed for open ocean. No one had bothered to stop them in the wake of the ruination of Pearl Harbor.
"Laffey wants to ask the Commander the same," she replied softly.
"That's kind of you, Laffey. I think I'll be alright," he said, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. He'd lost his cap long ago in the chaos. "For now can you send a message to the main base? Let them know we're leaving on Admiral Hawkins' orders? Is that possible for you?"
"No problem, no problem," Laffey assured him, closing her eyes. Thorson watched in fascination as her eyelids fluttered for a few moments. She opened them again and looked at him. "All done."
"Was that Morse code?"
"Of course. How else would Laffey communicate without the radio?" She asked as though the habits and abilities of shipgirls were obvious to him. Thorson laughed it off before falling into a ponderous silence.
"Can you send a message to Pennsylvania? Only to her?" He requested on a whim.
"Hmm? Why would Laffey do that?" She asked, cocking her head at him in a manner that was quickly registering in his mind as adorable. He frowned.
"Because I think what Pennsylvania did will scare a lot of people. She may be disciplined or even decommissioned. I want her to know that she should come seek us out if things become difficult for her here. Can you convey that message?" Laffey began with a nod, this time whispering the words aloud as the message was more complicated.
"Commander says that Miss Pennsylvania did a scary thing but that it's ok. He wants Miss Pennsylvania to come play with Laffey if the Union doesn't want her anymore. Laffey thinks Commander likes Miss Pennsylvania. He looks at her differently than-"
"Woah, hey now! I didn't say any of that!" Thorson interrupted, breaking Laffey of her Morse code trance.
"Hmm? You didn't? Laffey thinks you meant it though," she told him innocently. "Commander, where are we going? Laffey doesn't want to fight the Sakura alone." With one sentence he was thrust back into the moment, not a researcher or a comrade, but a soldier with orders. Thoughts of Arizona, the Valkyrie known as Pennsylvania, and the enigma that was Tennessee could come later.
"Can you show me to the bridge? I'll get right on it."