People say that in desperate situations, the body unlocks itself, allowing one to reach into the 30% reserve of strength one usually never uses. It's this reason that desperate mothers can lift cars to save their child.
At this moment, Roe didn't think that 30% was going to be enough. The Abyssal had her on the backfoot, and for all the science and wizardry she knew she wasn't going to win this.
The fundamental issue was, how the hell did one win against an enemy out of your weight class?
'And I need to find out how quickly.' Her thoughts were running faster than they ever had, but even then she couldn't completely dodge the slash aimed at her face, adding another cut to the ever growing collection.
The Abyssal had completely torn her clothes apart, mere scraps soaked in blood were all that was keeping her dignity safe; not that she cared much at this point in time. The berserker rage the Princess had entered after the depth charge surprise had given her an opportunity to… to…
Well, she didn't know. Maybe someone else with more experience would say she had done the right thing, that maybe driving her into a wild frenzied rage inhibited her thinking and made it easier to kill her.
Hell, she just hoped it was the right thing. If she was damaged by the explosion, Roe couldn't tell. All she knew was that holy shit she was fast and strong and those claws were sharp.
Splashes started popping off around them as fire started being laid down on the Princess, and from the right she could see Powell moving towards her, shouting. Her radios had been taken down, her masts a victim of the Princess, and her communications room punctured. She had been unable to send or receive anything, and she couldn't hear Powell over the sounds of shells and explosions happening right in front of her as she kept shooting at the damned bastard.
Quickly, she ordered a fairy to start manually signalling with flags.
'WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING.'
'LAUNCHING. TORPEDOES. GET. AWAY.' Despite herself, she frowned at that response. Those torpedoes were heavy, but the magic bullshit that covered anything related to shipgirls was especially strong with Princesses. A single torpedo might not have been strong enough to sink her to the depths.
Ducking under a haymaker, she parried with a chop to the side that barely did any damage, and she had to paddle back as the Princess kicked wildly at where she had been previously.
Yeah, Roe absolutely wanted no part of her to be afloat to harm the convoy. She got her signalling fairy to send a response in two parts.
'FIRE. ON. SIGNAL.'
Another hand stretched out at her, cutting through her hair like it wasn't there and nearly beheading the signalling fairy, and in response all Roe had was a punch that felt like it hurt her more than the Princess that gave her the leverage to back out of that situation.
"You're gonna have to be faster!" she yelled at her fairy. Damn, she was rusty. They had never needed to rely on signal flags anymore since being summoned, and she'd let the skills lapse.
'STAY. OUT. UNTIL. THEN.'
There. Hopefully Powell would get the message.
The reply back was not as quick as it should be, both of them rusty in their signals training - something Roe would have to drill them in once they got to Liverpool.
As she backpedaled from the claws of the Princess-bastard, she amended that statement to 'if'. If they got to Liverpool.
This damn bitch was making it hard to believe in that.
Then she picked up a roar of rotors.
Roe didn't miss the arrival of the Seahawk, nor the reaction of the Princess to it. The damn bitch was smart enough to know the noose was tightening, even if Roe was on the ropes, and she hit even harder for it.
But the harder she pushed, the sloppier she got, and that gave even the amateur Roe openings she could use. Making sure her signal fairy was ready with the flags, she readied her next moves.
The Princess swung again, hands moving to catch her in an x-swipe, and Roe struck.
Her torpedo launcher launched a single Mark 15 that Roe caught mid-air, and letting the cut her across the chest with a wince, she took advantage of the moment when the Abyssal was off-balance to swing the torpedo with all her strength.
The blow sent TNT chunks flying everywhere, and sent the Princess staggering from the weight of it.
Then she laid on the speed making smoke and shooting everything left the whole time, while on her bridge her signal fairy waved frantically at Powell .
'WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING.'
Powell got the message clear enough. Roe wouldn't use signals unless something was off.
'Must've lost her radios.' That would be an issue, as she ran through what she could do in her head. She would have to guide in the helicopter, unless Roe wanted to work through her.
Looking at Roe though, one thought ran through her head. 'Don't think she has enough capacity for that.' Another thought was 'She's gonna die.' In that instant, she decided on her course of action.
There was no time for self-loathing, not if she wanted Roe to survive. Her expression hardened as a cold calm came over her.
Showtime.
'LAUNCHING. TORPEDOES. GET. AWAY.'
The next flags being waved her way were interspersed with the poor fairy diving to the deck to avoid being beheaded by the Princess, but Powell got the idea.
'FIRE. ON. SIGNAL.'
'STAY. OUT. UNTIL. THEN.'
Powell knew Roe, and she knew that if Roe was preparing something, it was either going to be dangerous, insane or batshit crazy. She might have been the most normal out of the entire Sims -class, but it was known among the members of Task Force 80.37 that Roe' s madness manifested itself in an extreme devotion to work, duty and her people. Right now, with so many merchants dead, who knew what Roe would do to ensure what remained of the convoy made it to harbour safely?
Instead of protesting the order though, she swallowed the lump in her throat, reluctantly prepared to follow instructions. Watching Roe get cut to shreds.
Then she received a call over the radio. " Powell, this is Catseye, we're on our way. We've got torps and Hellfires, where's the Abbie?"
The cavalry had arrived. The MH-60R was modern, sleek, and armed to the brim, with a pylon filled with Hellfires and another with a single Mark 54 Mod 1 torpedo, not a battleship buster like the Mod 2 but hopefully it wouldn't matter. "Catseye, Squadron lead is currently engaged, I've got a plan.
"You launch your missiles, and get me time to launch my torpedoes. They aren't homing, but they've got a bigger charge and I've got three. Then you stay on overwatch while me and Roe get out of this place."
A click. "Sound's good to me, Powell . When's the signal?"
" Roe needs to be able to get out first, I think she's suffered machinery damage." That was a lie, she knew . Roe was dragging her left leg every move she made. There wasn't much time left for her to dodge, and she just hoped that Roe wouldn't give in to her siblings' instincts for madness…
Then she smashed a torpedo into the Princess, staggering her. Even before she had started running for Powell , Powell was already moving.
"That's the signal! Go go go!" The helicopter went in first, its greater speed and modern electronics meaning it could get all of its missiles downrange before Powell launched a single torpedo.
Powell didn't care about that. The Hellfires made a good distraction for her attack run.
Going in with as much speed as her boilers and electric motors could give, she launched her torpedoes in a pre-arranged formation, and once the last of her three Mark 15s launched straight and true she turned parallel to a battered Roe , radioing to Porter to "drop the ASROCs!" and cooly taking down the explosions behind her as the Seahawk and her torpedoes hit the Abyssal.
One, two, three, four explosions rang, as she analysed the damage to her leader.
The blonde was bleeding severely from cuts to her head, her formerly-waist length straight-cut hair now with chunks missing and flying wild in the wind, a massive set of still-bleeding cuts all across her body and a bloody mess spraying over her thighs from what seemed to be a stab wound, yet she still had the gall to give her a proud smile, one that Powell recognised from the expression in her eyes was partly fueled by adrenaline. "That's one hell of a story I can tell in the bar! How many shipgirls have fought a Princess and lived?" Irked, Powell jabbed her erstwhile boss in the ribs, causing her to gasp in pain.
"Save thoughts like that for when we're out of this situation! Mason and Porter are with the convoy, and they're driving hard for Liverpool, and there's an Atlantique that's supposed to be twenty minutes out." From a distance, Powell could hear the sounds of the ASROCs landing around the Princess. Hopefully they would finish it off.
"How long was I fighting that bitch?" Powell checked her chronometer. "Fifteen minutes. The Atlantique was directed here from its normal patrol eight minutes ago or so."
Roe clicked her tongue. "Not much we can do until then." Her voice took a concerned tilt. "How's Menges?"
"Severe. Bridge completely out." Strange, the missiles sounded like they were getting closer.
"Damn-"
Their conversation was cut off by the flame of a motor running right in-between them, of a kind that Powell was getting sick of seeing, even as she heard a voice she vaguely recognised as her own screaming over the radio.
"S-SOV-NO WAIT, PORTER VAMPIRE VAMPIRE VAMPIRE!"
" Powell! GET OUTTA HERE!" As soon as those words came out of her mouth, Roe turned hard to starboard, heading straight back for the Princess.
This time, Powell didn't hesitate as she turned around and followed right after, only slowing to leave a message for the convoy.
"Leave us behind and run."
The spirit was sure now.
She knew that these were allies.
She knew that they were in trouble.
And yet, she didn't know how to help them.
She was dead. Bandits, backfires and vampires were all she remembered, but whatever happened, it killed her.
And yet… They were fighting. Older than her, long gone by her time…
She shouldn't be here, she screamed! She should be fighting like they were!
Slowly, unseen by her or the ones she was spying on, cracks appeared.
Underwater, a long rusted wreck stirred, and something happened.
The Princess had, despite two Hellfires to the face, a torpedo attack from Powell and the Seahawk and numerous 5-inch rounds from Roe, survived. She was noticeably listing to port, fires burning across her sail superstructure, but she was still alive.
And somehow, she seemed even more pissed off. The scowl that had previously been on her face now seemed to be stretching across her face, sharp white teeth in full display as she gunned for their throats.
"You know, aren't the scary ones supposed to be nuclear-powered?" Roe' s voice was measured and easy as she and Powell fired whatever they had at the Princess. She had gone for an opening torpedo run, but midway through launching them had been forced to turn away as the Princess had launched torpedoes of her own.
The Princess had taken advantage of that to rush in with a speed she should by any sense of logic no longer have, and tossed her at Powell .
The collision had taken out Powell 's superfiring 3-inch gun, busted her lip open and broke her glasses. Nonetheless, she was still keeping her eyes on the Princess. "Shoot first, philosophy later!"
"I've only got one gun left! This is all I've got!" Roe' s cries of indignation were interrupted by her firing her AA-battery at another torpedo in the water. "Besides, the banter keeps my mind off the fact that we're gonna die."
Despite the grim nature of that statement, Powell couldn't help but chuckle. "We'll at least make sure she goes down with us, right?"
Roe stared in shock at Powell , before letting loose a defiant laugh of her own. "The true American experience! Well the-"
A sound interrupted Roe for the second time in minutes as an explosion happened on the Princess.
Then another.
Then in quick succession, another eight explosions hit the Princess.
"...You know, the world really hates us." Roe 's expression soured in an instant, as the smoke cleared, showing the Princess's face twisted in hate. "Radio in to the Porter , and tell them that the missiles helped, but they really oughta get out of here no-."
Another missile hit the Princess, and another. Around them, missiles flew by, seemingly missing their target. Unsurprising, considering how screwy Abyssals tended to be with tech.
Then, an underwater explosion occurred. Before Roe could check with Powell , another explosion occurred. And another. And another.
And as the smoke cleared, all that remained of the Princess was an oil slick in the water. "...Nevermind. Tell them 'good job'."
"Okie-dokie!" Roe stood, staring at the place where she was sure her death once was, before registering that the voice that just spoke up was too chipper, too high pitched, and too from behind her to be Powell , who was right beside her staring behind them.
Slowly, she turned around, and was met by a shipgirl.
The shipgirls shared the sailor dress and miniskirt combination common to most American destroyers and destroyer escorts, but that was where the similarities ended. The stranger's clothes were a gunship gray, with a cravat around her neck and white tights.
Another thing they noticed was that they had to look up. Both of them had worked with the old British cruisers from World War I when they did the odd convoy to Toulon, and this stranger was as large as them despite her destroyer regalia.
The most striking thing though, was the octuple missile launcher she held as a part of her rigging in a grip they vaguely recognised as an M16s, and the tiny fairy-sized helicopter that sat on her landing pad.
Clicking her heels together, the stranger saluted sloppily, her enthusiasm never letting up.
"USS W. S. Sims, reporting for duty!
Upon hearing that name, Powell slowly turned to look at Roe .
"Don't look at me, I've never seen her before in my life."
W. S. Sims just tilted her head cutely, letting brown hair flow over her face.
The final missile that had missed them had missed the convoy as well.
"Thank god for small mercies." The Commander was leaning over the rail, all formalities forgotten as they raced as fast as they could to get into port.
"How's Menges ?"
The Commander noticeably shivered. "She's up and talking, despite having a hole in her face. I haven't worked much with shipgirls, but I didn't know that kind of thing could happen."
Roe was too tired to laugh at that statement. The battle had ended hours ago, and the adrenaline rush that had kept her toe-to-toe with the Princess had worn off with it. "You get used to it. People still don't get how shipgirl anatomy works, and it's only gonna get freakier now that…" she waved in the direction Sims was at. "Now that it's gonna get a lot busier."
"You're a Sims-class, right?"
"Yes, and it was already odd enough with the DE Sims around. No idea how I'm gonna keep track of names at this rate."
"Hm. I get that feeling, I grew up with two brothers named Joseph." He raised an eyebrow at Roe . "You get used to it."
The two of them shared a companionable moment, before it was interrupted by the noise of propellers. "Orion, from Beja. They started running patrols over every convoy that's within range now."
"Did other convoys get hit while we were dealing with the Princess?"
A grim nod from the Commander. "They hit the Stennis . She's still afloat, but the fact that they're hitting the CSGs is not a good sign."
A chill ran down Roe 's spine at that. "They- how? No other shipgirls self-summoned? Only us?"
"If they did, no one's saying, but it's more likely nothing's happened. The convoy heading to Brest had to redirect to Algeciras due to losses, and the one heading to Hamburg is meeting the one heading for Gdansk, to shore up numbers. As for the how… I haven't heard. Might be our old friend Charlie, or Papa's decided to come back from beyond the grave."
Roe buried her face into her hands. Even with a Princess dead, the news still wasn't good.
As a final offence, a day later, they would enter Liverpool without further losses.
Authors Note: Thanks to Numbers75 for proofreading and giving advice with the fight sequence. It was originally a lot more disjointed before that. I might've missed a few names with that as well, sorry - I don't usually have any proofreaders, so this is still new to me.