Savato93
Whew, this was a doozy. Longest chapter to date at 7,000 words, give or take a couple. Is crying when I write a sign that I'm doing something right?
Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Safe Harbor
XXXXXXXXXX
Inside the barracks of Fort Mears, in a time long past, a Ri-class cruiser twisted and turned in her sleep.
It felt like there were alarms going off in her head—scratch that, those WERE alarms. On some metaphysical plane, an irate, half-asleep Rivet manifested on her bridge. "Can someone PLEASE shut that off?" She moaned.
"Is 0700, ma'am," Her captain grunted. "Getting-up time, dat is."
"I was up till 0200 last night doing inventory checks. Is nobody thinking to account for that?"
"We don' be da ones tha' sets teh alarms, Ma'am, we jes follows 'em."
With a sigh of irritation, the cruiser slumped over to the control panel and slapped a button (this bridge technically didn't exist, it didn't matter which button she hit), cutting off the alarm. "Consider yourselves at ease for the next twenty minutes."
"Yes'm."
In the real world, Rivet grumbled softly and rolled over in her cot, relaxing once more.
Right up until the doors to the barracks slammed open. "MORNING TIME!"
Ah, right. She forgot the second alarm—Mother.
With a defeated groan, Rivet sat up in her cot. All around her, her sisters were in varying states of wakefulness as the childlike Princess went from bed to bed greeting them all. Rivet couldn't help but admire her mother's ability to tell her hundreds of children apart from each other. Without hesitation, without fail, she'd be able to point Rivet out from a line up of her dozens of identical Ri-class sisters.
"Good morning Rivet!" Speaking of which…
Rivet did her best to put up a smile for her Princess. "Morning, Mom…"
Standing at the foot of the bed, the Princess cocked her head at the Ri-class. "Is Rivet okay? Still look sleepy."
Rivet gave a halfhearted wave. "I was just up past my bedtime doing inventory. I'll be alright."
Mother shook her head. "It's not good to lose rest." Glancing to either side, she leaned in and whispered. "Hoppou will let Rivet sleep another hour, as thank-you for working late. Don't tell sisters Hoppou allowed this, okay?"
And like that, Mother was moving on to greet the next daughter. With a relieved smile, Rivet fell back onto her pillow. "You're the best, Mom."
XXXXXXXXXX
Stifling a yawn, Rivet tugged open the barracks door.
As was the norm, the harbor was in chaos. Not the BAD chaos, mind you; more of the "all the things happening at once" kind. At any one time, there were always Abyssals setting out or returning from resource-gathering trips, doing combat drills with their sisters, running equipment maintenance, taking stock of inventory, or just goofing around. With their conflicts limited for the most part to enforcing their borders or reminding cargo planes they'd overstayed their welcome, tension was never particularly high, which meant plenty of time to relax. Although…
Well, there were pros and cons to being part of a fleet of hundreds, Rivet figured. On one hand, there was never a dull moment. On the other… one was hard-pressed to find some peace and quiet during the day.
Stepping out of the barracks, Rivet made her way towards the showers. Along the way, she exchanged morning greetings with her various sisters as they walked past, already going about their daily routines. She briefly stopped at the sight of Mother guiding what looked to be a newborn Abyssal by the hand, showing her around her new home. Even from a distance, Rivet could see the girl's bright, curious eyes taking in everything around her in awe.
Welcome to the fleet, little one… she thought, continuing to head towards her destination. I'm sure you're gonna love it here.
After another minute or so of walking, she'd reached the building which housed the showers. "Hey, Nelly!" Rivet waved down one of her fellow heavy cruisers as she stepped into the locker room. "How's it going?"
The Ne-class looked over to her with a smile, as she went over her forked tail with a scrub brush. "Not too bad. You?"
"Same." Rivet stepped up to a repurposed medicinal cabinet and cracked it open. Sitting within was a pair of imps belonging to Mother, seeming right at home in a scaled-down domicile made just for them. Reaching out a hand, she let the imps climb into her hull; there, they would spend a little bit going over her various internal systems while she cleaned herself, making sure she was working at her peak.
As she walked over to a shower stall and started to hose herself down, she glanced back to the Ne-class. "Did Mother work out what caused that grinding and those scorch marks in your rear turret?"
Nelly snorted. "Yeah, get this: one of my crew dropped a gunpowder bag into the turret traverse mechanism."
Rivet tilted her head at the Ne-class, jaw agape. "What the f… how did they manage that!? Your guns don't even USE powder bags!"
"Remember when some of our field rations got mixed up during scouting missions a week ago?" Rivet nodded. "Apparently I got some rations intended for the battleships, and my crew had no idea what to do with it." Nelly paused and looked at her tail; both heads now had a smooth, matte-black sheen, freed from any grime or brine they may have accumulated while out at sea. Satisfied with her work, she set the brush aside. "Anyway, Mom just popped out the whole gun, replaced my turret ring, cleaned out the contact points on my hull, and slotted in a new turret. Just a quick tune-up to align it with rest of my main battery, and I should be good as new."
"Sounds great…" Rivet grimaced as she grabbed a bar of soap and started to rub herself down with it. "Now I'm starting to get just why she was so upset with the logistics girls over that mistake."
An entire week limited to daily meals and plain water was considered a big punishment by their Princess—and one that made sense. For such a massive fleet as theirs, logistics were critical. Taking away the snacks everyone else was able to enjoy because of the work they did would serve as incentive for them to do better, to make up for their mistake. While a seemingly minor demerit, this was more than enough to discipline them.
After all, Mother would never punish her girls in a way that hurt them, physically or emotionally.
Feeling something prodding at the back of her mind, Rivet turned inward, to her bridge. Mother's imps had already completed their evaluation:
Boilers working at more or less optimal capacity;
Propulsion normal;
Debris buildup in filtration systems starting to hamper ventilation;
Fire control systems slightly misaligned, performance down seven percent;
Minimal wear on barrels, no action necessary;
All electronic systems fully functional.
Verdict: Report to arsenal for maintenance (LOW PRIORITY).
Well, that explained why she'd been finding herself out of breath more easily the past day or so. At any rate, she could have it taken care of after breakfast. Right now, though, she had something else to take care of.
She held out a hand to the Ne-class. "Hey Nelly, can you pass me that brush?"
XXXXXXXXXX
Rivet could hear Patty squealing in joy well before she entered the mess hall. That could only mean one thing: pancakes.
Rivet tried to tune out the Wo-class as her excitement threatened to surpass the human auditory range. Stepping up to the kitchen line, she nodded towards the human chef on the other side. "Morning, Davis. Didn't realize it was already Friday."
The chef chuckled. "Yup. Let me guess, the days have been sorta blurring together for you recently?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." Rivet leaned in slightly, trying to get a look at the plate being put together for her. "A little extra syrup, if you don't mind?"
"No problem." Another quick dab of syrup, and Davis handed the plate over to Rivet. "There you go. Try and ask Patty to take it easy on us, could you? Some of our kids are expecting pancakes for dinner."
"Heh. Can do."
Walking away, breakfast in hand, Rivet scanned the hall for a place to sit. Luckily for her, there was an open table occupied by other cruisers.
As she took a seat, Rivet cocked an eyebrow at the Chi-class across from her prodding her pancakes with her fork in one hand, holding a book to her face with the other. "Reading at mealtime again, Chiana? That's bad manners, you know."
"Hm?" The Chi-class blinked and looked up. "Oh, hey Rivet. Sorry, I picked this up from one of the stores nearby, and I've been really fascinated by it. It talks about all sorts of civilian ships and cruise liners that sank in the 20th century."
Rivet snorted. "You realize we're ships too, right? You're pretty much reading about cruel and unusual deaths."
Chiana shrugged. "Perhaps. It's a matter of perspective, really."
Rivet rolled her eyes. "Whatever. But I suggest you put it down and finish your pancakes before they get soggy."
Turning to her own plate, Rivet speared one of the fluffy saucers with her fork and stuffed it whole in her mouth, taking a moment to just enjoy the food. Her daughters had been skeptic of her decision at first, but Mother bringing in humans to help cook for them all was one of the best things that could have happened to the fleet. After all… without them, nobody would be able to enjoy such delicious food as this.
"Hey! Give it back!"
Swallowing her food, Rivet looked back to see a Wo-class weaving between tables, a cup of orange juice held over her head and a rather agitated Ru-class chasing after her. "That's MY juice!"
"Wo wokyuu!"
"That was an accident! I said I was sorry!" Sunny whined. "You didn't mark the pudding as yours, I had no way to know…"
"Wo!" Wokyuu turned around long enough to stick her tongue out at the Ru-class—and wisely started gunning for the exit as Sunny let out a roar of frustration and doubled-down on her pursuit. Onlookers couldn't help but chuckle at the scene.
Really… never a dull moment in this place.
XXXXXXXXXX
Breakfast settling in her tanks, Rivet made her way to the arsenal for her tune-up.
The warehouse in which they based their armory was more or less maintained for its specific purpose—storage of materials. The only real difference was the machinery being operated within. All manner of industrial tools lay about, ready to be used in whatever odd project Mother came up with between the long stretches of ensuring her fleet was at their best. If only there wasn't so much stuff… she could have gotten to bed significantly earlier the previous night.
Stepping through the doorway to the general maintenance facilities, Rivet was immediately met with a familiar voice. "That you, Rivet? I got your report from Mom's crew. Gimme a sec, and I'll be right with you."
Looking towards the voice, Rivet spotted one of her sisters poring over a set of blueprints. "Ritou!" As the Ri-class turned to face her, Rivet was surprised to notice her sister's formerly-teal eyes were now glowing a soft red. "Hey, Mother finally carried out your refit?"
The now-elite Ri-class grinned. "Yeah. One step closer to flagship-grade. Maybe now I can move from just running tune-ups to something a bit bigger, like minor repairs or even equipment modernization."
As far as her children were concerned, the Northern Ocean Princess's skill in construction, maintenance and repair was unparalleled… but at the end of the day, she was just one Princess, looking after the needs of hundreds. To that end, some of their more technical-minded sisters, across all classes, were hand-picked by Mother herself to take up her craft; to aid her in keeping their grand fleet running optimally. Rivet's sister Ritou was one such disciple. She wasn't too much older than Rivet herself, but from the moment of her birth she was captivated by her own inner workings, constantly pondering on how to eke out just a little bit more horsepower from her engines, boost her signal range a little further, get her shell dispersion a little tighter. This, in Mother's eyes, made her a superb candidate for training in general cruiser maintenance. Make no mistake, she could put up a fight—but her job lay in helping her sisters do it better.
Ritou glanced over a slip of paper on the table beside her—a copy of Rivet's diagnostic from that morning. "So, filter-cleaning and gun calibration? I can do that. If you could take a seat over here and get comfy, I'll start with the filters."
Rivet laid down on the exam room table as her sister transferred some of her own crew over, fighting the urge to shudder; with the exception of Mother's crew, she could never quite get used to the feeling of another Abyssal's imps moving around in her hull. Nevertheless, she did her best to relax and let them do their job. Over the next couple minutes, she felt a tightness in her chest she hadn't even noticed was there gradually fade away, allowing her breathing to come a little easier than before. "Man, filter issues can really sneak up on you, can't they?" She mused, taking a deep breath.
Ritou chuckled. "If only because filter changes come just infrequently enough that you consistently forget about them." As the Ri-class gathered her imps back up, the door to the arsenal swung open, admitting a new Abyssal. Ritou looked up to the newcomer, curious—and grimaced. "Damn it. She's done it again."
Rivet glanced over. "Huh?"
Ritou sighed. "It's Tampa. She cannibalized another Abyssal to make field repairs."
Ritou nodded towards the Ta-class battleship taking a seat nearby. To Rivet's shock, her left leg was gone… replaced with that of a Ne-class cruiser. To rational-minded Abyssals—hell, to ANY rational being—it was a horrific sight. Torn, savaged flesh and warped, broken steel was gouged out, and completely mismatched parts crammed in its place; secured to her hull only by hastily-welded armor plates, and the complex machinery brute-forced into running on far greater horsepower ratings, in a much more massive frame than it was ever designed for.
Rivet didn't bother to suppress the shudder running through her frame. "W-why would she do that to herself willingly!?"
"Survival."
The two cruisers jumped as the battleship's gaze flickered towards them. "I lost my propulsion and steering to a torpedo while fighting feral convoy raiders. We intercepted them too late to avoid detection by their target, and shipgirls were already on their way to clean up what they probably perceived as two rogue fleets fighting over prey. The only options my fleet saw to proceed were to either tow me back, and risk having the shipgirls catch up and kill all of us… or leave me behind, and escape to safety at flank speed. I refused to accept either outcome." She gestured to the grafted-on leg. "I replaced what was broken. Sailed back home under my own power."
"Sister, scavenging from wreckages is one thing…" Ritou shook her head. "But what you did… it's just—"
"I don't care." Tampa cut her off. "I would rather be shunned for mutilating myself, than force you all to mourn my passing."
Rivet was unable to find her voice, stunned into silence by how readily the battleship would throw away her own integrity. Ritou, however, simply scowled. "It's not up to you to decide that, Tampa. Mother will be coming to have a word with you later about this."
The Ta-class looked away with a scoff, but said no more.
Grumbling, Ritou turned back to her sister. "I swear, some day she's going to take her little habit too far, and Mother will pull her off the frontlines permanently. Gun, please?" With a thought, Rivet manifested her rigging. Nodding, Ritou took hold of the hefty arm-mounted cannon and began to carefully detach it from her sister's forearm. "Thank you."
Rivet blocked out the unpleasant sensation of a fundamental part of her body being pulled out. At any rate, it was still connected to her via cable. "You sure we could handle a flagship being retired like that?"
"She's one of dozens of battleships in this fleet. Harsh as it is to say, she can be replaced."
"…I guess." Rivet spared another glance at Tampa as a thought arose in her head. "Though why is she coming in here instead of going to the repair facilities?"
"Likely because she's thrown off every fine adjustment in her hull with that stunt." Ritou took a minute to inspect the detached gun, looking over the couplings and briefly cracking open the casemate to let her imps do some manual tuning. Satisfied, she gripped Rivet's elbow and worked the gun back onto her arm. "Alright, that should do it. Try not to be bashing anything with your rigging, that'll throw the optics out of alignment faster."
"…Yeah. Yeah, I got it." Rivet pointed her cannon at the far wall and held steady, waiting as her crew worked out the exact distance, elevation, and predicted time to target just a little bit faster than they could the previous day. "Looks to be in order. Thanks."
"Just doing my job for the fleet." Ritou waved her off. "Now, you should probably bail out of here before Miss DIY over there decides to take something from you."
There was an annoyed growl from Tampa at that remark. Shaking her head in exasperation, Rivet nonetheless followed her sister's advice and departed.
XXXXXXXXXX
Rivet thought to herself as she wandered the grounds aimlessly. With the morning stuff taken care of, what was on the agenda for the day?
Turning inward, she looked to her personal schedule. Her next sortie, which was providing escort for a fishing group out to deeper waters, was set for Sunday. Her weekly combat exercises were scheduled for shortly after returning from that sortie. Other than that, though, she had nothing concrete scheduled for the next two days.
So, she was more or less floating. Time to consult the Wall, she supposed.
The Wall, true to its name, was a cinderblock wall situated at the center of the harbor. What made it stand out, however, was the fact that almost the entirety of its surface area was taken up by billboards, themselves regularly littered with pinned notes detailing various different tasks that needed to be done around the harbor. It was more or less a combination To-Do List and bounty board, used by the entire fleet to keep the more minor aspects of life on the base running smoothly. One of the Abyssals needed something done that they themselves lacked the time or expertise for? Put it up on the Wall; eventually one of their sisters would pick up the chore.
Stepping up to one of the billboards, Rivet looked over the posted tasks. Gathering materials for the next catered meal…? That usually required going into town, and things could get uncomfortable, as not everybody was used to Abyssals in their midst. So that was a no. Check their food stores… yeah, no. She had enough of that last night. Plumbing… didn't they have humans on call for that particular job?
As she looked over the Wall, checking for a task where she wouldn't be bored out of her mind, could do some good for her sisters, and still have some downtime before her scheduled sortie… she noticed a submarine stepping up to the Wall in the corner of her vision. She glanced over just in time to see the So-class pin a sheet of paper on the billboard marked "High Priority" and walk away. Curious, she stepped over and examined the posting.
Unknown Ru-class sighted prowling border near known fishing routes. IFF does not match known Princesses, assume rogue. Assembling task force to turn away, repel or sink potential threat to our supply chain. Volunteers enter your names in the fleet lineup below and report to Flagship Tanith at the docks. Time-sensitive.
That sounded interesting. A little bit of gunboat diplomacy was just what she needed after last night's slog. Pulling out a stencil made for her (and similar ones for all her sisters) by Mother, she stepped forward and stamped her name onto the page.
XXXXXXXXXX
A couple hours later, Rivet glanced behind herself, back to the harbor steadily receding from her sight. It had been a while since she was scheduled to sail this far away from the mainland; most of the times she sortied, it was to warn fishing vessels encroaching on their borders to turn back, or to rendezvous with Aunt Wanko's messengers (and on rare occasions Aunt Wanko herself). Heading this far out to intercept an approaching Abyssal fleet was an unusual occurrence, to say the least.
Also… "I'm a little confused as to why we need all this for one battleship."
Besides Tanith and Rivet herself, the fleet was comprised of a Ne-class, two Chi-classes, a Nu-class, and two destroyers. Were it a Re-class they were confronting, that sort of firepower would be perfectly warranted—a single Re was practically a fleet unto herself. But this was a Ru-class; while certainly threatening, they could feasibly be handled by a torpedo squadron, or carrier strikes, or even Tanith alone. This was overkill.
"It's meant to be a show of force," Tanith noted curtly. "Which, sometimes, seems like the only thing other Abyssals pay any attention to. However aggressive this battleship might be, she'd be stupid to try something with a proper fleet bearing down on her."
That was fair enough, Rivet supposed.
For hours, they continued their journey across the sea, heading for the interception point deduced by their scouts. Along the way, they were fortunate enough to spot a pod of Orcas going about their lives, tending to their young as they searched for food. They could only spend a minute or two marveling at the whales, however, before they were forced to resume their trek.
Eventually, after half a day of travel, Tanith gestured for the fleet to halt. The Abyssals glanced around as they came to a stop; nothing but blue sea before them, the nearest landmass just an off-color strip on the horizon behind them. "This is the place. Does anyone see anything?"
Taking up a defensive formation, the fleet began to scan the area around them in earnest, searching for their target. They'd prefer not to sink anyone if they could, but they needed to be ready for anything. Several minutes of observation later, one of the destroyers piped up. "I see something! Over there!"
Rivet and her sisters looked in the direction the destroyer had been checking, trying to glimpse anything out of the ordinary… there, to the southwest. An Abyssal, a battleship, just barely visible in the distance. Rivet's weapons phased into existence around her arms, as her crew calculated a firing solution on the easily-recognized silhouette of a Ru-class.
As she raised her cannon to take aim, however, Tanith threw up a hand. "Stand down, sisters," she hissed.
Rivet blinked, as did several others. "Eh?"
"Something's wrong. Take a good look at her."
Though hesitant, Rivet obeyed her sister. Lowering her weapon, the cruiser used her telescope to zoom in for a closer look—and gasped in shock.
The Ru-class was a floating wreck.
Her superstructure was in ruins, what very little remained of it charred and warped by the attacks that had blown it all away. The armor belt was all but destroyed, ripped apart by sustained fire from shells just large enough to dig into the belt and detonate without breaching her vital sections. Her guns… her guns were simply gone, completely annihilated by whatever had done this to her. There was no sense of purpose to her movement; she just drifted slowly through the water, aiming in no particular direction.
As they took in the sight before them, something else caught their attention. They looked to the wrecked smokestack—the smoke rising from her hull was far too thin, too light. She was running on fumes… maybe less than a day, and she would be completely dead in the water.
{She doesn't seem to notice us…} Tanith radioed to her sisters. {Moving to investigate, follow closely.} Pressing forward, they tried to get a clearer picture of the battleship. As they closed in on the Abyssal, she inhaled sharply. {…she can't notice us. Her rangefinders and radar are gone; she's blind.} After a moment, she added, {I think her radio might be out, as well. She's showing no response to my hails.}
{Who the hell could have done this to her?} Rivet asked.
{I don't know. I don't think it was shipgirls; even if they took a casualty in the fight, they would have finished the job against such a helpless target.} Tanith threw up a hand, bringing the fleet to a halt a few hundred feet from the Ru-class. Now that they could see her physical body, it was even worse—both her arms were gone, ripped off above the elbow, and chunks of flesh were missing all over her torso. Her face… her face was painted red by the blood seeping from her mangled eye sockets. {It's likely not human work, either. Even if they COULD do it, I doubt any human would go through the effort of inflicting such injuries to a capital ship unless they had a personal vendetta against that specific Abyssal.}
{Infighting, then?} The Ne-class, Neema, hypothesized.
{…It very well might be.} Scowling, Tanith shook her head. {I wouldn't put it against them to leave their victims blind, defenseless, unable to call for help as they wander the seas aimlessly, slowly starving to death…}
"W-who… who's th-there…?"
The fleet paused and looked to the Ru-class. Her voice was hoarse, weak. Despite her loss of vision, she turned her head to and fro, trying to see… anything. "…I can h-hear… your turbines. F-feel… your screws moving… the w-water…"
Tanith's fleet turned to face each other. {What should we do?} The Nu-class asked.
The flagship closed her eyes, thinking. {I'm not sure. She's obviously still seaworthy… to a degree. She's in no danger of sinking from the damage she's sustained. But even if she was capable of navigating in her current state, she'd never be able to make it to the nearest landmass with what fuel she has left.}
{What if this is some sort of bait?} Rivet asked. {Something to make us drop our guard trying to figure out what happened, leave us open to a submarine attack from long range?}
{No. This damage is too severe, and in the wrong places.} Tanith pointed to the Ru-class's legs—while worn and beaten like the rest of her body, they were still intact. {If someone was setting a trap for us, they would have shot out her screws and rudder, or disabled her engines, maybe even cripple her ventilation. Leave her adrift, but still capable of luring prey with an SOS and backstabbing them once the trap was sprung. This Ru-class, however… there's little to be gained from using bait that is blind, wandering aimlessly, unable to send out a distress signal.}
{Who knows? Maybe the one setting the trap is sadistic enough to go through that effort…}
The group had spent the better part of a minute debating the likelihood of a trap when something caught their attention: a whimper.
"…p-please… don't leave me… like this."
As the fleet watched, the Ru-class collapsed to her knees. "If… i-if you're going t-to finish me… just… do it." She whispered. "Please… it hurts. It all hurts. I c-can't feel my arms… and I'm so… hungry. I can't… go on." Bloody tears began to streak from her ruined eyes, barely visible among all the blood already coating her face. "Please… kill me. Make the pain stop."
Tanith felt a sting of pain in her heart from the battleship's words, the tone of utter defeat in her voice. She was going to die out here, and she knew it; she just wanted someone, anyone, to end her now, make it so she didn't have to keep suffering all the way until her boilers gave out.
This couldn't stand.
Tanith turned to the fleet. {Everyone, pass me your provisions.}
{What?} Rivet looked to the flagship in shock. {We're going to help her?}
{Look at her.} Tanith swung an arm towards the foreign Abyssal. {Mauled within an inch of her life by her own kind, left to slowly wither away… lost, alone and in agony. Nobody deserves that.}
{But we have no idea what she's done, or what Princess she obeys. We might well end up leading a sleeper agent home!} Rivet held up her cannon. {It already sounds like she wants to die, why not just oblige her—}
{NO!} Tanith snapped, silencing her sister's dissent. {That is NOT our way, and you know it. Provisions, NOW!}
Rivet bit back any further protest, as did her brethren; despite their misgivings about this decision, they weren't about to disobey one of their Flagships. With a soft groan of defeat, she reached into her hold and brought out a handful of her nutrient-dense energy bars—their taste was the stuff of nightmares, but they provided plenty of energy for their volume. Stepping forward, she slapped them into Tanith's outstretched hand, followed shortly thereafter by her sisters.
Now holding a small pile of food in one arm, Tanith moved towards the maimed Ru-class. "We are here," She declared calmly. "Don't stress yourself any further."
The Ru-class flinched as Tanith gripped her shoulder, but otherwise did not move; she just didn't have the strength left to do anything else. "Who are you? What a-are you… going to do… to me?"
Kneeling down beside the battleship, Tanith held an energy bar to her lips. "Here."
The battleship paused, pulling away from the object being held in front of her. "What is… this?"
"Food. Not enough to refill your tanks, but it should keep your engines running long enough for us to get you back to base." Tanith turned back to her fleet. "Rivet, Neema, tow cables. Nugget, send a plane back to base, warn them we're coming back with an extra ship."
The Ru-class turned towards her voice, confused. "Y-you're… taking me with you?"
"Yes. Our base is not far from here. You will be cared for once we return."
The Ru-class was silent, her lips pursed tightly as the cruisers attached their tow cables to her hull. "You won't make it without some sort of resupply," Tanith insisted as she slung an arm under what remained of the battleship's upper limbs and slowly pulled her to her feet, still holding the bar out. "You need to eat something… unless you would rather we leave you here."
After several seconds, the Ru-class let out a shaky sigh. Resigned, she dipped her head forward and bit into the bar, chewing slowly.
"…this tastes awful," she groaned. "Leave the wrapper on."
XXXXXXXXXX
A small group of Abyssals had gathered at the pier, eager to greet their sisters' return, and curious to meet this rumored newcomer.
They were instead struck speechless as Tanith and her fleet came into view—towing an eyeless, armless Ru-class battleship with an armor belt with the consistency of Swiss cheese.
And then the questions began.
"Who is that!?"
"What the heck happened to that Ru-class!?"
"Did you girls do that to her? Why would you bring her home!?"
Any and all questions were silenced by Tanith's concise commands:
"Get Mother. Prepare for surgery."
The welcoming group scrambled into action—some going to find Mother and alert her of the goings-on, some running to the arsenal to pick up the raw materials they would need, and the rest racing ahead of Tanith and her guest as they made their way to the infirmary.
Next to Tanith, the Ru-class struggled to remain standing, the food Tanith's fleet had shared with her only barely enough to keep her conscious up to this point. "You would… fix me?" she asked, weary and disbelieving. "A stranger…? Why?"
"Just because we are monsters, does not mean we have to be evil. None of us would be able to live with ourselves if we had just left you out there like that." Shoving the infirmary door open with her shoulder, Tanith walked the Ru-class over to a nearby chair. Just in time—as the Ru-class was turned around to be seated, her legs out underneath her. The battleship only barely held back her scream, whimpering through gritted teeth, as the abrupt motion of landing in the chair sent a wave of pure agony through her weakened frame. "We will treat your wounds and feed you, whatever is needed for you to recover. It is up to Mother to decide what will happen to you after that. Do you understand?"
"…Yes."
"Good." Tanith held out another energy bar in front of the Ru-class. "Here. We can focus on getting you proper food once your repairs are complete, but until then we need to make sure your body has fuel to burn so it doesn't shut down."
The Ru-class obediently took the bar in her mouth, swallowing it unopened and whole to spare herself the taste. Tanith fed her another bar, washing it down with a bottle of water, before Rivet poked her head in the room. "We're still getting the equipment together, but we've got an operating room cleared out, and Mom's on her way. Think you can get her there?"
Tanith shook her head. "I don't think so. She's about had it. We'll need to wait for Mother so she can be carried the rest of the—"'
Abruptly, all sounds of activity in the building ceased. Everyone could feel it—the massive weight suddenly bearing down on them all. As one, they turned to the doorway.
Mother had arrived.
Her typical mirth and playfulness was gone, replaced with a small frown and a steely gaze. That gaze softened, however, as she took in the pitiful wreck before her. The Ru-class couldn't see the world around her, but she could feel the immense presence right in front of her, staring at her, judging her, and she was visibly terrified of her—something the small Abyssal hated seeing.
She spoke. "What happened to you?"
It was a simple question from the Princess, one that did not explicitly demand an answer. But to the Ru-class, it was nothing less than an order from on high. And so, she began to speak.
"…My fleet was… small. Inexperienced. Our Princess… was arrogant. Foolish. She thought… she could take supplies from… another fleet's domain, without them taking notice." Taking in a deep breath, the Ru-class continued. "We were attacked… by a Re-class."
She shuddered. "I… I was her first… victim. She destroyed my guns… tore off my arms. Left me incapable… of hurting her. But she… left me alive… so I could… watch… as she murdered my fleet… one by one. Tearing them apart… with her bare hands. She took her time… with my Princess. Relished her… screams of agony."
The Ru-class's voice grew shaky. "When she finally… got to me… she decided I wasn't… worth the ammo." She choked back a sob. "She… she cut out my eyes instead. Commanded me to run away. Said… I would be an… example, to all who dared cross her Princess."
All around the battleship, the Abyssals had gone even paler than normal. This battleship hadn't been caught up in some petty squabble… she was caught in a slaughter. Brutally maimed, forced to watch as she was made into an orphan, before finally being blinded and set adrift to prove a point to others. In context, Tanith thought, her earlier yearning for death now made sense; she was alone in the world, thanks to the cruel mercy of the monster that killed her fleet. With the truth revealed, she and her sisters could only look upon the Ru-class with pity.
Mother, though…
Reaching out, Mother gently rubbed the Ru-class's cheek. "You're safe now. That meanie who hurt you, who took away your family… Hoppou promise she won't hurt you ever again." She wiped some of the blood from her face, letting her glimpse at the ravaged sockets her eyes once sat in. "Hoppou will fix you. You will be okay."
"…I don't… understand," the Ru-class whispered. "Why are you all… helping me? Being so nice to me? Why…?"
"Because Hoppou can." Mother put a hand under the battleship's chin, lifting her head so she could 'see' eye-to-eye with the Princess. "That is only reason Hoppou needs to help you." She shook her head softly. "You don't deserve what happened to you. To lose family. Hoppou cannot bring back lost ones… but you still here. And Hoppou will do everything she can to help you heal."
The Ru-class focused on the presence before her for what seemed like an eternity, in complete awe of its sincerity. Humbled, she looked back to the ground, tears welling up in her ruined eyes. "…thank you. Thank you."
Mother, however, wasn't satisfied with that. She could see the battleship biting her lip, shuddering, trying to maintain a façade of resigned gratitude despite the fact she was being torn apart by her grief on the inside. Reaching out and looping her arms around the Ru-class's neck, Mother gently pulled her close. "Don't hold in pain, only makes it hurt worse. Nobody will judge you for being weak here. Let it out."
From where she was standing, Tanith watched the Ru-class as the trembling in her frame intensified, growing into abrupt spasms all over her body. Her labored breathing grew harder, shallower, more frantic. Wrapped in Mother's embrace, she was coming closer and closer to completely losing her composure…
Finally, the dam burst. The broken battleship let out a keening wail—full of anguish, and confusion, and fear—and broke down sobbing into Mother's chest. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" she cried. "WHY… WHY ME!? WHY DID SHE CHOOSE ME!?" With a rattling breath, she screamed. "WHY DIDN'T SHE LET ME DIE!?"
"…Hoppou doesn't know." Mother quietly patted the Ru-class's head, comforting her as she released her pain in the only way she physically could, ignoring the blood soaking into her dress in the process. In that moment, the Ru-class wasn't a grown woman, a warship personified—she was just a girl. Scared, confused, and deeply hurt, baring her soul to the kindest person she'd ever met. "But you are here. That is all that matters now."
"Is it?" the Ru-class struggled to draw breath between her grieving sobs, her ravaged body straining to hold itself together. "I had… little sisters. Destroyers, three of them. They were always… so cheerful. So sweet. No matter how bad… our day was… they would always try… to make us all smile." Her cries were briefly interrupted by a wet, heaving cough, spitting blood onto the floor in front of her. "B-but now…" she gasped, blood still trickling from her lips, "…my mother… my sisters… they're gone. All of them." She pressed herself against Mother. "I have nobody left… I'm alone."
"No." the Princess said sternly. "You are NOT alone."
She hugged the battleship tighter. "We are here, with you. We will always be here with you… if you let us be." She looked the battleship in her ruined eyes. "Will you?"
The Ru-class paused… and said nothing. She simply continued to cry, as she nuzzled against the Princess—her Princess.
Nobody dared interfere in that moment; for all that the battleship was a complete stranger to them all, they knew without a shadow of a doubt that she desperately needed this. And so, for the next several minutes, they simply watched and waited.
As the cries began to grow weaker, the Ru-class finally exhausting herself both physically and emotionally, Mother spoke again. "Hoppou will put you back together. Make you good as new." Producing a rag, she started wiping the rest of the blood from the Ru-class's face, careful not to agitate her wounds. "Hoppou and fleet will take care of you."
"…I… just don't u-understand…" The Ru-class croaked, her voice spent. "Why? W-why are you… so kind?"
Mother simply looked at her, thoughtful. "…Hoppou not like other Princesses," she warned. "Hoppou not interested in war. Killing humans. Hoppou only wants to be free, be happy. So humans are left to live their lives how they like. Some even work with Hoppou." The blind Abyssal in front of her likely would have stared at her in disbelief, if she still had eyes. "Hoppou doesn't know what your fleet did to humans before… and Hoppou doesn't care. If you want to stay… become part of Hoppou's fleet… Hoppou will not refuse you. But you have to give up hate. Can you do that?"
"I…" Sniffling, the Ru-class nodded. "Yes. I'll do… anything… for you. No matter… how much… it pains me."
Mother smiled. She leaned forward and gently kissed the Ru-class's forehead. "Don't worry. Hoppou will never make you do something you don't want to…
"Because Hoppou loves her family."
The Abyssals surrounding them relaxed at last. There was no further judgement, no test of worth necessary. Mother looked upon this ruined Abyssal, begging for death, and she saw a spark of light in her broken heart—a chance for salvation.
She would not ignore it.
Grabbing hold with both hands, the Princess carefully lifted the battleship off the floor, treating her as if she were as light—and frail—as a feather. "Hoppou will help you sleep, so she can make you feel better. But before that… Hoppou wants to know your name. Do you have one?"
The battleship was silent for several seconds. Then, she spoke.
"I… I am… Ruadri."
