#trenchcafe

Paris Burning slowed to 1/4 steam and no sail as she rounded the Lubang Islands. Fairly soon she would enter the exclusion zone around Manila Bay and the princess controlling the city was said to be a little hostile towards other ships. A neutral abyssal was an uncommon sight, certainly, but was a welcome one to Paris; and possibly a business opportunity. Fairy from the crow’s nest reported eyes on what looked like a patrol boat some 8 kilometers out, just a little too far for the ironclad to see on her own, even with her spyglass. With a nod and a frown, she had her crew raise two two-flag signals: india mike and uniform hotel, officially requesting of the first Manila picket vessel to see her an escort and an audience with the princess herself. 

Everything in place, Paris accelerated to full steam and sail, blowing forward north-easterly for Manila Bay, humming what sounded like the shanty “John Kanaka.” 

“I just wish these orders weren’t so vague, guess that is the nature of war. Maybe the surface abyssal finally realized the ka-class is smarter than they let on when they hear Naka’s noise.” Finally the pier came in sight, he forgot how long the trip was. Right now he could go for a stiff drink and drop his rigging.

@trenchcafe

Prior to the outbreak of the Abyssal War, Naval Station Norfolk had been the largest naval station in the world, and the rise of the Abyssal Fleet had not changed that. In fact, it was now even larger than it was previously, with new specialized facilities and defenses having been constructed to better cater to the living ships of the Atlantic Fleet, and to better defend against enemy incursions. It was one of these relatively new specialist facilities that a certain fleet admiral and his secretary ship were now entering, a very specific destination in mind.

“Anything in particular that I should know about this one, Dutch? I know her history, obviously, but what did the preliminary medical and psych evaluations look like? Anything unusual?”

“Nee, Admiral. She is in perfect health, and so far can be determined thus far, of equally sound mind. Of course, that is part of the reason we are here, is it not?”

“That it is. Considering the circumstances of her original sinking, something tells me that even in a best case scenario, she’s not going to play nice with the Japanese. And worst case scenario... Tirpitz is on standby, correct? I don’t want another debacle like with Arizona. At least they had the sense to call me in this time around...”

Batavia simply nodded quietly, the pair stopping outside a door that looked newer (and more heavily reinforced) than most of the other ones in that part of the building; the wall around it also showed signs of being recently replaced. The door was labeled “Debriefing and Evaluation”. Taking a deep breath, Jones adjusted his cap, gave three firm knocks on the door, then entered. Despite his grim demeanor mere moments before, he was quite genial as he greeted the room’s sole occupant.

@trenchcafe

It wasn’t often that Firedrake got excited at a mission. And really, on its face there was little to get excited about with this one either - going out to meet up with a fleet that was in the middle of pushing back Abyssals and needed fuel and ammunition resupply, but couldn’t head back to port for it. All in all, a fairly standard mission, if more dangerous than Firedrake was used to. There was just one advantage, though - for once, she wasn’t going to be the only resupply ship there. And that was worth it.

“Excuse me, is it true that you’ve been sent by the government to our school?”

Her body rocked to and fro as the clattering tracks ground to a halt. Lurching forward as the tank too slightly dipped before stopping, her expression remarkably had not changed. Her brow had lightly creased; a cross between threatening and confused. Scrunching her eyes and nose, her hazy confusion hardened into tempered steel; a quiet fierceness stabbing from the sword of her tongue. Firmly she gripped the edges of the copula. 

“Are you here...to take Oorai away from us again?”

The rumbling engine added a bite to her words, the massive plates that shielded the IV vibrating softly. Like a proud steel beast, it carried and protected its master; bearing its fangs as its monstrous barrel stood sentinel. Under the sunlight, the numerous blue Oorai ribbons marking the IV seemed to shine a vivid azure; as if they’d gained a life of their own. 

To cross the Atlantic alone was a calculated risk for a ship. On the one hand, a single vessel was less likely to attract the attention of any passing Abyssals than an entire fleet or convoy. On the other hand, it meant that if they did come under attack, there would likely be no help for hundreds of miles around, meaning all but certain destruction. Fortunately, this particular lone ship had a valuable advantage: sheer speed.

Unfortunately, all the speed in the world was of little help when your enemy has been expecting you, as Edsall would soon discover.

*Ping!...*

A single active sonar ping. That was all the warning she would have received, assuming she had even been equipped with sonar. As the destroyer sped along, an eruption of water and foam in front of her as something ominously large breached the surface. Before the misty curtain had even begun to drop back down, a swarm of huge, rubbery black tentacles shot out from behind it, aiming to snatch and ensnare the ship girl so she could not use her speed to flee the scene.

After all, their owner enjoyed a captive audience.

“Good afternoon, my dear. You are USS Edsall, I presume? The one who gave my dear little Ri such a scare back in Norfolk? I see they’ve been quite generous with your overhaul, haven’t they? A pity they didn’t bother to include any weapons. Not that they would have done you any good, of course. Ahhh, but where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself: I am the Cold War Princess, Abyssal Hime-class Ballistic Missile Submarine, the one and only one of my kind in the Abyssal Fleet. Which is really one too many, all things considered, but then again, where’s the fun in a war when both sides don’t have the power to destroy the world on a whim, hmmmm?”

“Now then... we have much to discuss, you and I, and all the time in the world to do it in. So why don’t you make yourself... comfortable. This little chat doesn’t end until I decide it does, and whether or not it ends with you back on your merry way across the Atlantic, or with you sinking to the bottom, is entirely up to you. Heh heh heh...”

“Get back! It’s live!” Sealion shouted as he and the rest of the team he was with ran from the bomb. This was one of those ‘rare’ missions he conducted outside of the usual Abyssal war. One much less documented but his training was pertinent for. Right now they were somewhere in the middle east, the mission was to seek and destroy a training camp set up by various small nations to construct their own Kanmusu fleets to serve their own purpose. 

Sealion rigged a series of bombs to destroy the central facility, the very heart and blow a hole as a means to escape. However something went wrong...it went very very wrong...He was running, the trigger was in his hand. Just before he hit the detonator he felt a pain in his back, then he started slumping forward. Turning around a man sneered over him, an assault weapon ready to finish him off.