August von Parseval woke up to the sound of metal thrashing about. Outside the window of her private lodging, she could see her rigging moving around excitedly.
"Like a dog waiting for the acknowledgment of its master…" August mused as she rose from her queen-sized bed.
It was normal for Kansen of her status to get their own private lodgings, even inside the confines of a military base. For those like her, with rigging twice the size of a small apartment, having an outdoor space big enough for them to thrash about without causing any collateral damage was truly a blessing.
"Quiet, my aide, what has gotten you so eager this morning?" The shipgirl said, opening the window and letting the cool morning breeze blow through her hair as she reached out with an arm toward her aide.
The rigging, having finally gotten its master's attention, proceeded to push its draconic snout onto her hand, immediately retracting it, and then started heading toward the port, leaving the shipgirl with a pensive expression on her face.
This morning was no different from the others, so why was it acting so weird? It was never this forceful with her when it wanted something; she educated it personally, and it knew its place and the consequences of defying her will.
Alas, if she wanted to know, she had to follow it, as much as she didn't like to be carried around by her minions.
She put on her usual attire and left her room, deciding to forego breakfast. The walk toward the harbor was punctuated by the greetings of her fellow Iron Blood Kansen, who kindly informed her of the location of her rigging.
As expected, it was at the docks, waiting for her between the nervous glances of the dockworkers and Kansen not too familiar with its presence.
It looked on edge, with its gaze directed toward the horizon.
She closed the distance between them and gently patted its left leg; it didn't even look at her, releasing a sound that reminded her of a puppy being forcefully separated from the tit of its mother.
Concern started creeping inside her alongside curiosity; it clearly wanted to head out to sea. It was in moments like these that she wished she had a stronger mental link to her aide; being able to understand it without having to decipher its behavior would be of great help. But she was certain of one thing: it would never act without her best interests in mind, and it would never put her in danger.
She decided to trust its instincts and climbed on its back, coming to sit in front of the space between its shoulders, where two of its plates were conveniently shaped like the back of a chair.
"Notify Frau Bismarck that I'm heading out on patrol," August spoke authoritatively to one of the dockworkers who had gotten too close.
Granting her rigging permission to escort her wherever it pleased, she made herself comfortable for the trip.
The poor guy could only watch in awe as the metal behemoth took off in the sky, flying away from Wilhelmshaven.
Leviathan woke up with a start when a wave splashed him in the face. He bolted upright, standing on the sea and observing his surroundings. He tried to recall the last thing that happened.
His brothers, the Mirror Sea, the mission, the fight, and then the shattering of the reality around him… and then black.
He tried to mentally reach for his radio—nothing, not even static.
"Scheisse." He cursed under his breath; this was the worst possible outcome.
His radio was broken, he had no idea what had happened to his brothers, how far he was from land, whether the locals were hostile or not, or how strong the Siren presence was in this world...
There was water all around him as far as the eye could see, and no landmarks. The only things he could have used use to orient himself were the stars, but the sun was already out; it was way past dawn.
He could only choose a random direction in the hope of hitting land sooner rather than later, and then plan his next move from there. It was in these kinds of moments that he wished he wasn't as "heavy" as he was; being a battleship meant that his top speed wasn't the highest.
There was only one other thing he could do.
He focused on his Cube and summoned his rigging.
After sailing alone for a few hours, Leviathan came across a shoal; this stretch of the sea was punctuated by many rocky formations that spread out for a few miles in front of him.
But there weren't only rocks around him; he was surrounded by a myriad of wreckages of various kinds of ships, all of them in a similar state of deterioration. The elements hadn't been kind to them; barnacles occupied their half-submerged hulls while the rest was covered in rust and moss.
Noticing the lack of warships, he presumed that this must have been a convoy or a small civilian fleet that got caught in a Siren ambush or something. Maybe they got stranded in these shallow waters between the rocks in an attempt to run away from them.
He felt sorry for the unfortunate souls, but he also found it inevitable; a normal hull couldn't withstand the force of the overly advanced Siren armaments, and if you didn't have any means to block them or avoid them, the only thing you could do was run away and pray.
He knew it too well.
He didn't have any memories of his "life" before being reborn as a shipboy, but he could still recall the weight of his hull, the sluggishness, the cold, and the painful limitations that his old body imposed on him. The knowledge that was imparted to him came from the memories and the consciousness of the members of his crew. No, he did have one memory from that time; it was the only exception, and it was the day he was sunk. He clearly remembered the cause of his "death," being split in half by a Siren railgun that he couldn't avoid nor withstand.
That's why he didn't miss his hull at all. He was grateful to humanity for the new body they had given him, albeit not voluntarily, and he was determined to repay them by eradicating the tumor that was the threat of the Sirens.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the figure approaching him from behind until its shadow was looming over him.
He turned around in a heartbeat, jumping out of the way and summoning his chains around his wrists and forearms, ready to defend himself.
Berating himself for lowering his guard, he took a good look at the new arrival.
The creature in front of him was a large mechanical dragon-like beast, covered in black and red metal plates, with a pair of wings resembling the deck of an aircraft carrier, only a pair of forelegs armed with long red claws, and a sinuous serpentine body. He couldn't fathom how it was able to hover like that since its wings, unlike those of his brother, Freedom, were clearly not meant to support the weight of its body.
Nevertheless, he was astonished. The creature was a marvel of biomechanical engineering, and he couldn't help but admire it a bit; it did share some similarities with the rigging he knew far too well, and it clearly wasn't of Siren origin. Those flight decks did not belong to an alien, and the woman that was riding it was definitely not one of them.
She was gorgeous; every woman he had met in his entire life couldn't even hold a candle to her. She had a pair of ram's horns adorning her head and a couple of triangular-shaped hair clips next to them. Her hair was long and lustrous, of a deep dark blue color, just like her eyes; one of them was covered by a fringe of hair that only added to her bewitching aura.
If the sky was blue and the grass was green, this woman was Kansen like him, and the thing she was riding was her rigging. Normally he'd be a lot more excited for such a reveal, but he had more impending inquiries to make, like her intentions.
"Where did you come from? What do you want from me?" Leviathan calmly asked her.
She stood up from her sitting position atop her mount. "Tis very rude to ask questions to the ones above you without introducing yourself first," the woman declared, her gaze fixed on him as if she were looking at a flea.
Leviathan gritted his teeth; he already didn't like her, but he complied, nonetheless. "Imperator-class battleship, KMS Leviathan. And you are-?"
"As I suspected, a male Kansen, what a wonderful discovery… A one-of-a-kind! I couldn't have scored a better catch! I'll have you come with me to my homeland, where you will be interrogated, your Cube will be thoroughly examined for any kind of abnormality, and you will be kept under surveillance until we can figure out what makes you so special for being born as a man instead of a woman. And when the researchers are finished with you, I'll make you my thrall, and you'll have the honor of being bound to me as my servant for the rest of your life until death do us part!"
Leviathan had his mouth agape and his eyes bulging, she said all that with an elated expression on her face, an expression that was sending shivers down his spine.
"Ah… do forgive my outburst," the woman added, immediately switching character and curtsying to him. "August von Parseval, Iron Blood aircraft carrier."
"What? You are not even deigning me with the name of your class?" Leviathan spoke with disdain in his voice.
"I possess none. I'm a PR ship, born from incomplete blueprints and the whims of the Cubes; besides, you will soon be referring to me as your mistress. Now, enough chit-chatting. Do you comply, or do I have to make you submit using force?"
"Wait! I'm also Iron Blood like you; can't we talk about this before doing anything rash?" He tried to avoid showing concern in his voice by keeping his tone as steady as possible.
"Even better, the other factions won't have anything to say if we are not apprehending a member of theirs."
…
Leviathan was done; trying to make her listen to reason was like pissing on a forest fire. This woman was determined to get what she wanted on her own terms, without any room for negotiation. He knew only one way to deal with this kind of people…
"Wisdom Crafting," he murmured, and the chains enveloping his arms started quivering at his command.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the battleship said, his voice full of sarcasm. "But I'd rather jump in a tank of starving sharks instead of following the orders of a haughty, arrogant wench like you."
August's brow twitched slightly. "It seems we are doing this the hard way. Don't blame me for what happens next; it was your choice."
She snapped her fingers. Her dragon reared its head back and spewed a breath of fire at him, which he narrowly dodged, almost setting his black and red cape on fire.
Wait, that's not fire, that's metal! The beast was breathing streams of molten metal at him. He could see the core inside the chest of the creature pulsating like a heart, and its scales lighting up around the edges as it powered its body.
"Hey! Are you trying to kill me?!" Leviathan shouted while dodging another torrent of lava. This one hit the hull of one of the wreckages, reducing it to a melting pudding and releasing a cloud of steam when it made contact with the water.
"If you were to die from something like this, it would simply mean you weren't worthy."
"This woman is crazy!" Thought the shipboy, still trying his best to stay away from the hit zones of the incoming attacks. He had to defeat her or kill her as soon as possible, but he needed information, and if he did that, he would be back to square one. A plan was already forming in his mind, but he needed time to put it into practice. "Then I'll just keep dodging her attacks."
He took advantage of the cloud of steam created by the dragon's breath to hide behind one of the hulls scattered around the place and started the game of hide and seek. Scuttling around and hiding his presence wasn't his forte, but it was the only thing he could do for now.
The best way to fight a carrier one-on-one is to get up close and personal since, usually, specialists in long-range combat weren't as proficient when it comes to CQC. That usually applied to both Kansen and Sirens, and Leviathan was ready to bet that it applied to his enemy too. Also, she didn't strike him as the type who knew how to throw hands.
But first, he had to find a way to bring her to his level, and to do that, he needed to deal with her mount…
Meanwhile, the shipgirl was starting to get impatient; the steam raising from her aide's attacks was clouding the surroundings, giving her opponent even more places to hide. "Just like an insignificant insect, trying to defy destiny… But having said that, I believe a soul like you isn't meant to blindly accept their destiny," she said, snapping her fingers again.
Her rigging stopped spewing fire, straightened its wings, and stretched them as much as it could. Smaller versions of Iron Blood aircraft started materializing on them, taking off immediately, and growing to their natural size after a few seconds in the air. They flew around for a bit until they were ready to get into formation, then they started diving toward the sea following the indication of their owner.
They reached the lowest altitude they could and started flying around the place almost at sea level, carefully avoiding the shipwrecks and the rocks that littered the place. With their passage, the steam that was there slowly but surely started dispersing.
But that wasn't going to be enough to draw the man out of his hiding spot, she knew it, so instead of wasting more time by sending her aircraft to scout the area, August decided to take a different approach.
Now that she could see her surroundings again, she summoned more aircraft and started carpet bombing the place. Every nook and cranny that could be used as a hiding spot was targeted by her squadrons, and neither shipwrecks nor rock formations were spared by her calculated strikes.
And finally, there he was, bolting out of his hiding spot under the inverted hull of a cargo ship, skating around the place, narrowly avoiding the payloads of her bombers.
"Yes! Keep at it! Resist me! I look forward to seeing your reaction when you realize that all your struggling has been for naught." The carrier couldn't help but voice her excitement, spreading her arms in a gesture of elation from atop her dragon, while squadrons of aircraft took turns going after their target, one after the other.
And then it happened. It was just a moment of distraction, but it was enough to let one of the bombs reach the battleship and deliver a direct hit, enveloping him in a cloud of smoke. Perfect; no Kansen would be left unscathed after a hit like that. He was either knocked out or heavily wounded. In any case, he wasn't in any condition to struggle anymore.
"The game is over… I was hoping for more entertainment, but alas, all good things come to an end eventually," August said with a note of melancholy in her voice. "Come on, my aide, we shall retrieve him and bring him back with us; if he's dead, we'll settle for his Cube alone."
The mechanical dragon started its descent, lowering its altitude to sea level, with the aircraft still flying around on standby and the smoke from the explosion still surrounding the impact zone.
Then, from the smoke, a glint, like that of metal getting hit by the rays of the sun, and a pointy metal rod in the shape of an arrowhead came hurtling toward them. It was the size of a short sword, with a cross-shaped hilt and a chain connecting it at its base.
She didn't even have the time to issue an order that the projectile embedded itself deep inside the chest of her rigging, right where the core was located. The dragon roared in pain, a metallic screech that resembled the yelping of a dog.
It started thrashing around and clawing at the chain so hard that she had to hold on for dear life if she didn't want to fall down, but the chain wouldn't budge; on the contrary, something was pulling it on the other end, keeping them in place midair and preventing them from reaching a safer altitude. It was him; he could see it now that the smoke was starting to disperse. Not only he didn't have a single scratch on him, but he was also holding the other end of the chain that was piercing her aide's core.
"You?! But how?! How are you still standing after that hit?!" She lost her composure. First, this bastard had the nerve to defy her, refusing the offer of becoming her thrall, the greatest honor that any man could hope to achieve, and now he had wounded her rigging, her aide, her soul, and was making it scream in pain like a dying animal.
Such an affront was not to be forgiven; she would beat him into a pulp, make him beg for mercy, feed his legs to his rigging, and then she would keep him as a house pet for the rest of his life until-
He started pulling on the chain, dragging her rigging toward him and herself with it.
"I converted one of my chains into a shield that absorbed the impact at the last second, then I hid inside the smoke and waited for you to get within range," the shipboy said, grunting with effort at the feat he was accomplishing.
"Such strength," she thought.
But she didn't have time to be impressed; she had to help her aide get free.
"To me!" August shouted toward her aircraft.
The squadron that had been waiting on standby up until now dove toward Leviathan, ready to perform another bombing run.
But before they could release their payload, with a final grunt of effort, he yanked with all the strength he could find, finally making the metal dragon lose balance and making it plummet toward himself with August still holding onto it.
"This is bad!" August panicked. She realized she needed to reroute her planes, or she'd be caught in the explosion as well. The aircraft responded to her will, aborting the bombing run and gaining altitude once more.
With another crisis averted and the dragon still falling, Leviathan sprinted toward it, ready to command his only remaining chain to bind its legs, wings, and jaws.
He was only a few feet away from it; he only needed to restrain it long enough to have the time to beat the shit out of its owner and put an end to this fight.
The chain, still connected to the core of the dragon, reacted to his will, starting to wrap itself around the neck of the beast.
But then he noticed something: August was leaning over the right shoulder of her rigging, with her arm outstretched toward him, holding something in her hand.
It was an aircraft.
She sent it toward him, and when it switched to its true size, it connected its left wing with his chest in an impact that left him gasping for air and spitting blood.
He was sent flying backward for a few dozen feet, losing his grip on his chain and impacting his back onto one of the rocks that had been spared from the previous bombardment, then he collapsed into the water as the aircraft joined its comrades in the sky.
August exhaled a sigh of relief. She couldn't believe her idea worked; an idea born from the fear of someone who had been pushed with the back to the wall. She would have lost if she had launched all her aircraft at the start of the fight without leaving any back as reserves. Indeed, it was her pride and carelessness that had brought her into that position in the first place; she had to admit it and learn from her mistake. Next time, she might not be this lucky.
She had to hand it to him though; he almost had her. No one was ever able to make her feel that way, not even the Sirens.
But at the end of the day, she was the one still standing. She's won.
Now that it was all over, her opponent wasn't moving, and her rigging, even if unable to fly and release its fire breath like before due to the damage to its core, was still operative, and it was looking at her with a sorrowful expression.
"Forgive me, my faithful aide," she said with a smile and a soft but still shaken tone of voice. "I misjudged the situation and put ourselves in danger," she added, patting the snout of the dragon with her hand.
It answered with a low rumble; its eyes, having lost the orange light that indicated its wellbeing, turned toward their opponent.
"You are right. We still have matters to attend to."
Leviathan was floating face-up in the water, his torso hurting like hell. He was having difficulty breathing, with his breath coming out of his mouth in raspy sounds.
He was the toughest of his brothers. Being a battleship meant that he was able to handle a certain amount of punishment from the enemy if he knew the hit was coming and had enough time to prepare to shake it off. But a direct hit to the chest, coming from an unexpected attack taken from the position he was in, was enough to send him out of commission for a while, especially after the game of tag he was forced to play with all those aircraft.
Suddenly, he heard the sloshing of water and the sound of metal plates clattering getting closer and closer.
The head of the metal dragon came into view, its eyes looking down at him with a dead stare. It wasn't hovering anymore; it was floating on the water, swimming with its owner still on its back.
He still had enough energy to run, but what good would that do to him? Those aircraft would catch up to him immediately.
August herself showed her face next. She regarded her defeated opponent with a blank stare and an indecipherable expression on her face.
She didn't want to kill him. She had come this close to wishing it with all her heart, but this man didn't deserve to die. During their encounter, he'd made her feel things she had never felt before, and she was sure he would keep doing it if she kept him with her. She would keep her word, bring him back to Wilhelmshaven, and then she would make him her thrall.
"You fought well; do you have something to say before I bring you to my homeland and make you my thrall?"
Leviathan opened his mouth to speak.
"Now, Liebe."
His rigging emerged from under the surface, right under the chest of the dragon, biting its neck with its massive jaws.
The dragon and the shipgirl were both taken by surprise; the impact of the assault launched them upward, making August lose her balance and crash into the waves below.
The giant mechanical beast that had just appeared was as big as her own rigging but much thicker. It had the shape of a great shark and the typical coloration of Iron Blood rigging, with metal plates that changed color from black to silvery-grey and from red to pinkish orange.
Its most notable body parts were the several battleship main guns grafted into the sides of its body, and its jaws, which were as big if not bigger than a small van, were clamping around the neck of her aide, making it release another screech of pain while the two wrestled for control over the other, appearing and disappearing from under the waves.
August was so stunned that she didn't realize her opponent wasn't done with the fight yet.
Leviathan jumped upright, his chest screaming in pain. He took off his cape with a swift move, letting it fall to the sea, and dashed toward August, screaming his heart out and tackling her, sending them both down under the water.
August was the first to recover, getting up immediately, ready to confront the battleship.
The carrier believed that hope was not lost yet. Even if she wasn't used to close-quarter combat, she was still a Kansen, and she had all the strength she needed to knock down an enemy that had already reached his limit.
Leviathan was the second to stand up, his black hair and beard drenched in water and clinging to his face, giving him the appearance of a lunatic.
"Finally, we are on the same level!
He rushed her, readying a punch aimed straight at her head. She was ready to meet him, rising her arms to shield her face… and her breath immediately left her when she received a blow straight to her gut.
She doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach with her arms, which left her head exposed to a side kick to the temple.
She fell on her knees, and before she could even think of reacting, too stunned by the hit, he quickly moved behind her and put her in a headlock.
"Now, go to sleep, and when you wake up, you'll be the one to answer my questions," he murmured in a low, menacing tone.
August could only surrender to her fate as the world around her became black.
AN: The Vaterland (the German word for Fatherland) was an Imperator-class German transatlantic ocean liner, the second of three ships, the others two were the Imperator and the Bismarck. All of them were handed over to the Americans after WWI; the Bismarck became the Majestic, the Vaterland became the Leviathan, and the Imperator maintained its name. In the shipboys' timeline, the three were not built as ocean liners but as battleships, never ended up in the hands of the Americans and maintained their original names… except the Vaterland. I could have left the name unchanged but in that case, the nickname would have been "Vater" which is too similar to toilet for my liking, and because I think that Leviathan sounds cooler.
This also means that the Bismarck in their timeline is not the Bismarck we all know; since there was already a battleship with that name in their world the real Bismarck never existed and Operation Rheinübung never happened. In their world, Imperator is in charge of the Kriegsmarine and Leviathan and Bismarck are his younger brothers.
There's also the HMS Leviathan, which was an armored cruiser with a boring history, so I've decided to ignore it.
Also, Leviathan's outfit is basically the uniform of the Night Watch from Game of Thrones, but with a combination of red and black.
Next Chapter: Fighting Chance