Nantucket Sound

Spinner glanced at her friend with concern as Taylor ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair—its color and length far different from what it had been days before. She had barely spoken since she appeared at the warehouse this morning, giving only curt orders: Spinner was to follow her to Boston, while Eagle was to patrol around Brockton Bay.

After a huge wave broke over the two of them, she finally spoke. "Did I tell you Sally could actually see Intrepid? The moms were confused as they couldn't, but how could we explain that both of us drowned that day?"

Spinner adjusted their course slightly. "Hey," she began, her voice soft but worried. "Are you okay?"

"I screwed up." Taylor sighed, her gaze fixed on the brightening horizon. "I just wanted Intrepid to see a friendly face, you know? Not a stranger. We served together for a time; I even knew some of her sisters."

Taylor's voice softened. "God, we loved those girls. They cheered for us as we tried our best to protect them and mourned when we fell, which happened far too often. We would die for them. We did die for them. And they for us."

Wiping a tear from her face, she continued. "She was so relieved when USS Taylor stepped onto her deck. The problem, Spinner, is that when I released my rigging. I didn't turn back. I stayed like this."

"Oh."

Taylor let out a clear, bright, bitter laugh. "Yes, 'oh.' Sally was angry mostly at herself. Poor Cheryl, her mom, assumed I was a parahuman. My mom's terrible at hiding that she's upset and really worried for me. And it will be almost impossible to hide it from anyone who knew me from before. The irony isn't lost on me either; if I want to go out to dinner with my mom, it's safer for her if I do so as Yuu."

Spinner grimaced in understanding. "Is that why we're on our way to Boston instead of you being in class?"

"Well, I don't exactly look like I did Friday, and getting contacts and a wig won't help much." The US Navy shipgirl motioned at her body. "The school will assume I triggered over the holiday. They might even report it, or someone will post something on PHO."

"But you aren't a parahuman."

"Doesn't matter. Part of me wants to suck it up and go to class; by law, they can't make a fuss. But Mom's worried the PRT will be jerks about it."

"That sucks," Spinner grumbled.

Taylor shrugged. "Yeah, my JAG is looking into it. I'm not worried about myself, but I'm concerned for Mom and the folks at the docks."

"But didn't the PRT see you in New York as you are now?" Spinner asked.

"Sure," Taylor replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were confused how well I performed in that holo-simulation. But they didn't say a word. Most likely, it's because I still can pull off being a girl better than the two of you."

Spinner grumbled. "We're getting better at it."

"Good to hear. Mom will be thrilled she won't need to replace any more chairs," Taylor teased.

Hours later, not far past Provincetown, the two were discussing what they would be doing for the rest of the day. The chemicals for the shipgirl bath had finally been delivered to a boathouse next to the boat docks, so Vulcan would have to sail into Boston Harbor, not Taylor, not that it was ever a choice.

Spinner, who had been looking at her phone for places to eat, called out, "Hey boss, the Coast Guard just asked if we could keep an eye out for a speedboat they've been chasing. It seems they lost sight of it somewhere near here, probably hiding among all the surface clutter."

Taylor pointed to a red cigarette boat about half a mile away, sitting fifty yards offshore. "Like that one?"

"Oh yeah, exactly like that one," Spinner giggled. "I'll let them know we found it."

Suddenly, gunfire filled the air.

"Are they shooting at us?" Spinner asked incredulously.

"Seems so," Taylor observed. "Not sure what they expect to hit at this range, but they've got sharp eyes."

"Hey, stupids! You're scaring the sea lions," Spinner called out, slumping back with a sigh. "This is why we can't have nice things."

"I don't imagine they care. Oh, look. They're making a break for it." Raising an arm, Taylor fired one of her five-inch guns, sending vast columns of water into the sky.

Spinner raised an eyebrow as the red boat veered in the opposite direction. "You missed."

The roar of a helicopter drowned them out as it flew over the dunes, cutting off the boat's escape.

Taylor grinned. "No, I didn't."

Spinner stared at her, wide-eyed. "You sneaky bitch."

"That's sneaky bitch, ma'am," Taylor corrected with a smirk. "And I'll have you know that we Fletchers have all the radar."

"They're shooting at the Coast Guard helicopter now."

Taylor sighed, bringing her guns to bear once more. "Of course they are."

The drug runners, apparently not amused at the five-inch shells being thrown their way, ended up turning right into the path of the shooter on the Coast Guard helicopter, who drilled a hole in their expensive boat's engines. They soon after surrendered.

Spinner and Taylor hung around long enough to be thanked, mainly because they weren't needed, and headed toward Boston. The only thing that brought a modicum of concern was that the Coast Guard was now aware that a US Navy Fletcher-class destroyer was part of the shipgirl's forces.

US Coast Guard Sector Boston

"The pie was delicious."

Lieutenant Anna Swenson, commander of the Coast Guard patrol boat Goblin, looked over her shoulder again as she half listened to the shipgirl Spinner's conversation with the air.

She still didn't know what to make of all of this. Each of the captains of the other boats had an opinion. She never really believed them to be the spirits like Emilia of the Mistral had said. Although it was difficult to ignore that Archerfish knew more than any civilian should know about an operation, even one from forty years back.

Then Paul and his crew came under fire, only to be rescued by another shipgirl, a US Navy cruiser, the USS Astoria. However, what happened afterward shocked the naval community. With their ship sinking and two seriously wounded, the Astoria brought all of them on board.

The Spinner's crew was later interviewed, especially about their experiences on an active US Navy warship; the items they brought back were thoroughly studied, from sweatshirts, coffee cups, blankets, and even the medical forms handed over when the cruiser dropped off the Spinners' crew. All of them were later confirmed to have come from a ship that had been lost in combat in the Solomon Islands back in 1942.

Then, this new girl, Vulcan. Well, not so new; she had been working all summer with the Brockton Bay association to move the old container ship that had been blocking the bay. At first, she was thought to be just another parahuman Tinker, but then the Coast Guard sent one of their chiefs to speak to her. He came back to Boston with a different opinion.

The same person, Chief Fauntroy, was now sitting with her engineer, Chief Sims, reviewing a technical readout that Vulcan had generated somehow.

"Goblin's asking about the prognosis, boss," Spinner asked, leaning over Vulcan's shoulder.

"Lieutenant, you're only seeing this at high speeds?"

Anna tried to ignore for a moment that her boat was asking questions. Nor did she believe it when Paul said that these shipgirls had a presence. Spinner's was playful. But Vulcan's. She could tell that this girl, no woman's, had weight behind it.

"Yes, ma'am," she found herself replying. "The last few times, we were chasing down one of those cigarette boats. Doesn't happen every time, though."

The two Alco-Paxman Valenta diesel engines of the island-class patrol boat generated a considerable amount of raw power. Although it was an older boat, compared to the Spinner, the Goblin could easily reach thirty knots. At that speed, however, she and her crew noticed a slight shudder that had been worsening.

"I don't see anything in particular, although Goblin tells me she was renovated a few years back."

"She and a few of her sisters," Chief Fauntroy frowned. "Since our budget was cut on the rest of the Marine Protector class boats, the Coast Guard decided it was cheaper to refurbish what they had."

Chief Sims looked thoughtful. "You're thinking it could be a manufacturing defect in one of the upgraded parts."

"Could be," Vulcan replied. "Lieutenant, do you think I can take a look under the boat?"

"I don't mind, but how…?"

Anna's eyes were now wide open; the shipgirl was no longer in dress blues but a grey and black swimsuit with US Navy on one side and AR5 on her breast.

"Neat trick, " Chief Fauntroy laughed." Is there a way to keep a copy of these documents, Vulcan? If there is a manufacturing issue with the island-class upgrade, we need to find it."

"Unfortunately, the documents won't last long once they're off the boat."

Anna then asked. "What if we scan them?"

Vulcan smiled. "I think that would work."

While the chiefs dragged off a couple of her crew to find an office scanner, Anna looked at the water where Vulcan had disappeared almost ten minutes ago.

"Is she going to be okay down there that long?"

"Oh sure, she's fine. I'm not much for swimming underwater myself," Spinner shuddered. "And normally, one of us would send down one of our fairies, but Vulcan's a hands-on type of girl."

"Fairies?"

Anna stepped back when a little Coast Guard seaman appeared on Spinner's shoulder. The small girl gave a friendly wave before disappearing inside the shipgirl's blue hoodie.

"I do believe in fairies, I do I do I do," Anna whispered. Then, with a smile, asked, "Spinner, can you tell me what Goblin looks like."

Protectorate ENE Headquarters, Brockton Bay

Armsmaster looked up from his computer. "Miss Militia, for the next week, the two of us will be the primary point of contact with the Coast Guard's Tactical Law Enforcement Team. Dauntless, Velocity, you will be our backup along with Strike Team Delta. Assault and Battery, you and the Wards will continue to patrol north and east of Adams, the boardwalk, and the northern docks."

The speedster Parahuman frowned. "Mush was picked up outside Phili the other day. So, do we expect parahuman involvement or the Empire to take action?"

"We don't, as the area is a good distance, south and east of their territory. We were invited to be part of this operation by the Secret Service to improve inter-agency cooperation and communication."

"Oh, that's right, I read that a whole pallet of counterfeit one-hundred-dollar bills was discovered in an abandoned building," commented Battery.

"Correct," Director Piggot acknowledged. "And a significant number of drugs have been smuggled by sea through the southern half of the docks in the last decade. While searching for more counterfeit money, TACLET will sweep the area as part of their counter-drug enforcement; Brockton Bay's tactical teams will also be part of the operation."

"Speaking of the Coast Guard," Dauntless inquired. "Do we expect to see any shipgirls? The Fleet has really been hammering the drug trade when it comes to shipping it by sea."

"We have not been told, and unfortunately, we don't have the means to communicate with the Fleet. However, it is a good question. I will bring it up with the Coast Guard," Armsmaster responded, making a note on his computer.

Assault looked over at the Wards, who had been sitting off to the side quietly. "Hey, Vista, has your friend Spinner mentioned anything about her being down here for anything?"

"Shichi-Go-San is this weekend, right?" she turned to Shadow Stalker with a frown before looking at her phone. "We're supposed to be meeting Eagle and Spinner at the shrine."

"What is it?" Miss Militia asked.

"It's some sort of kid's religious festival. Parents bring their children to the shrine and take pictures," Shadow Stalker answered.

"Plus, the candy," Vista grinned.

Battery pointed to a picture on her phone. "Well, she was seen in Boston yesterday with one of the other shipgirls having lunch."

"Oh, that's Vulcan," Clockblocker also pulled up images. "Haven't seen her since they moved the Saint Margret. My uncle and his team worked with her a few times."

"She's best friend with Glory Girl," Carlos added. "Vicky said that she and Vulcan have been working with the Coast Guard to clear up that whole area where the Navy's drydocks used to be."

Kid Winn noted. "Hey, looks like Newfoundland was in Halifax last night, well, early this morning. She visited a children's hospital up there."

"As she did in New York," Shadow Stalker said approvingly. "I don't see any of the others."

"Probably snuck off from her escorts," Missy grinned. "But Spinner wouldn't bring up anything they are doing when it comes to the Coast Guard."

"Operational security and all that, I get it, but you can ask, right? Or maybe have Archerfish give us a call."

"Sure, Assault, be happy to do that," Vista cheerfully replied.

Director Piggot closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Armsmaster, have you or any of the non-Wards in this room met this Vulcan? Maybe you have had drinks with Astoria? Taken Newfoundland out to dinner? No, then, Triumph, please get with your team and note whatever you know about the current shipgirl roster and pass it on to Armsmaster."

Triumph looked at the other Wards, who nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"And Armsmaster, perhaps you should inquire about any upcoming Shinto festivals with the shrine so we can change the patrol schedule. It's been quiet in that part of town, and I would prefer it kept that way."

South Brockton Bay

Lieutenant Samuel Harper led his eleven Law Enforcement Detachment or LEDET team members through an area called Ferry Station South. Their destination? An illegal drug distribution center.

His command, brought up from Norfolk, had been working with the PRT and the Brockton Bay police in counter-drug operations. The mission was intended to last only a week, but their deployment had already yielded substantial dividends.

A couple of days ago, they had captured, with the help of the shipgirl Eagle, a 50-foot self-propelled, semi-submersible ladened with six tons of cocaine and a dozen bags of counterfeit 100-dollar bills. Its captain, unaware that the Coast Guard had taken over the entire southern docks, had tried to escape, but Eagle's depth charges had immediately caused the semi-submersible to surface.

The information about their target this evening came from the same captured crew. He had wanted to conduct this mission late at night, but the PRT had pushed it off, as their night vision capabilities weren't as good. Additionally, it would render their heavy hitters, the Parahumans, unable to see.

Ridiculous, of course; the Brockton Bay tactical team was also in the same opinion as him, but they were all trying to work together. A compromise had been reached; the mission would take place a few hours before sunset.

Since the other intel had been good so far, resulting in over a dozen arrests throughout Brockton Bay, he agreed, but something felt off.

Raising his hand, he signaled his team to halt. Immediately, the crack of rifle fire filled the air, followed by automatic fire. The first rounds whipped past his head, splintering a door nearby.

"Cover!" Harper barked, diving into an abandoned storefront. His team followed close behind, returning fire in short bursts. Unfortunately, part of the PRT strike team had been caught out in the open, leaving two troopers on the ground.

Someone then screamed "RPG" as a rocket-propelled shape charge slammed into a PRT armored vehicle, causing it to burst into flames. A second exploded on the floor above, showering his team with debris.

"Christ, Stacey's been hit."

"Can we get those troopers out of the open?"

"Not unless you want to be shot."

"Holy shit, they have a fifty-cal over there."

At no time did Lieutenant Harper ever expect to make this call. He had been introduced to two of the shipgirls who were going to support the mission, of course, Spinner and Eagle. The Navy patrol craft had already proven her worth by capturing the submersible; now, he prayed that she knew how to shoot straight.

As he watched the PRT make a scattered retreat, leaving more wounded behind, he leaned down, out of sight, his voice controlled but filled with urgency.

"Delta, Team Leader, this is Lieutenant Harper!"

"This is Spinner, Lieutenant." came the calm reply from the shipgirl.

We're under heavy fire at coordinates Charlie-Niner-Baker-Two. Hostiles firing from the storefronts down the road from us. Includes RPGs and machine gun fire. Requesting immediate support!"

"Copy that, Lieutenant. Passing permission to fire up the chain. One moment. Approved. Firing solution incoming. Hold tight. Eagle's will need you to spot."

"Copy that, Spinner."

Seconds later, a storefront down the road erupted in a wall of flames as a 4-inch high explosive shell found its target.

"Shift 10 yards to the left, and let them have it," he yelled into the radio before screaming. "Everyone down."

Suddenly, the distant rumble of naval gunfire rolled across the bay, and the world in front of his team erupted in flames. After half a dozen more rounds fell, the enemy fire slowed down and then stopped.