Kaede lurched up the stairs.

“What the hell are those two doing up there?”

The Ra-Class repair ship had heard a lot of soft hissing from above. Whatever the argument was, someone up there was going to get it. Kaede had felt that ripple in the world and as she marched up the stairs she was going to give those two such a tongue lashing tha-

A brilliant blue hook exploded from the wall, embedding itself in the other side of the upstairs corridor. Kaede, frozen, felt a tiny drop of blood form on the very tip of her nose.

“Kaede? Why don’t you go for a walk. I’ll keep an eye on Wakumi.” The Princess suggested in a casual tone. She could take a hint. The repair ship didn’t start cursing out crazy Princesses until she was well away from the house.

“What was the point of letting me look her over if you’re just going to break her later, stupid?”

***

Wakumi was not afraid. She was a bit worried. The Light Carrier had truly tried to replace the image of Bertha in her head with the Young Miss before her. She knew how disruptive it could be when people who knew you before a major refit still didn’t recognize the new circumstances. Or accept them.

It may have been a bit bumpy in the beginning, but she was Fleet now. It would be alright. Wakumi may have erred a bit, true. She’d made her plans with the idea that they’d have ten, maybe fifteen days to work with. With thirty she could take it a bit slower. The Flagship had planned to keep provoking her Miss, but had rethought when it was necessary upon hearing how much time they had.

“Then she blew up on me anyway.”

That was the worry, really. The Young Miss had a lot of ease in calling forth power and little idea what she was doing with it. Wakumi wasn’t worried about being tortured or played with anymore. Maybe just a bit on the played with part. “Because if it helps the Miss with her burden, I might just volunteer.”

But mostly no, she wasn’t worried about arbitrary punishment. Or her twist, which didn’t seem to do much to her Fleet. That was a relief. Her Princess hating her as Bertha had, in that terrible moment, would be unbearable.

After an outburst like that, without a punishment to follow up? It was clear Miss was serious about trying for a more casual relationship. Wakumi wasn’t sure how to do that right. It felt wrong.

“A Princess of the Court is a Princess. She deserves respect for carrying our burdens.”

She had other worries right now, after the Miss so clearly pointed out that she wanted privacy. “Miss?”

Damn that look. Looking at Wakumi like calling her Miss was wrong. “Silly, but she’s my Princess.”

Wakumi had trained herself to be polite and controlled. With the kinds of Royalty out there, it was a survival skill for any Flagship. But if her Taylor insisted. She still needed to deliver her warning.

“Taylor, one of the way Rituals are made is by studying skills. Personal skills. From them. The most widely known and used Ritual is derived from Far Sight. It’s scrying, looking in and hearing distant places.”

Wakumi wished she’d been able to hear Taylor’s Oath, but she was in no condition to listen in with a spirit this hurt. That was asking for complications. But Taylor even having a Personal Oath was telling. There was no way in the Abyss that she was actually a newborn. Wakumi was now sure of it. As Taylor settled in, her eyes growing distant, Wakumi wondered who her Taylor had been before being Taylor.

There were always rumors going around among the middle ranks about crazy rituals used to affect or guarantee Ascension. The guarantees were always lies. Always. But Wakumi had heard some Princesses that were light on tonnage who were trying to switch, move up in Class first. Instead of seeking to Ascend further, there were myths and stories of a Ritual that would allow a girl or even, a Princess, to change her Class without Ascension and its risks.

Wakumi would bet that if such a Ritual existed, the price would be steep.

“Maybe a whole lot of old memories. It would explain the lack of normal starting ones. Because really, how else do you get a Princess that can’t even sail or fly, but has a personal connection to the Abyss?”

Wakumi was her ship now and she understood Court games. She didn’t play them, but the Flagship knew she was a piece to play with. Taylor’s piece.

After a few minutes to recover from her shifting around and for the burn in her everything to become something a bit more bearable, Taylor’s eyes focused and the room pulsed. For a moment, Wakumi was back in that lunchroom. It felt like she was surrounded, an entire enemy fleet around her, all looking at her. A boilerbeat later, the eyes moved on even as her skin crawled. She managed not to shift and further aggravate her injuries.

“Is that why Missouri was waiting for us? She knew we were coming?” Taylor asked.

Wakumi found herself missing a step again. Just when she thought she had a handle on where her Miss was going, she lost her again.

“I don’t think Missouri would need a Ritual Taylor. She’s the finest Seer in this ocean or any other. I’ve talked to ships who went to see her, formally. She can see anyplace from the comfort of her home. Missouri can even peer through time. Predicting our arrival would be trivial. Even if the Court hadn’t told her to expect visitors.”

Something she’d said had disturbed Taylor. That much Wakumi could tell. She’d been accepted into the Fleet but would still need to earn her place in the inner circle. So far, only Itchy and Shun were allowed past the sandbars and shoals surrounding Taylor’s calm, inner waters.

Young Taylor; “Young Taylor. That’s it!” Young Taylor leaned back, thinking over her warning.

“These are neutral waters. Missouri is neutral.” After a short, expectant pause she clarified it as a question. “Yes?”

“Yes Young Taylor.” Taylor twitched. Violently. Her eyes, which had turned away and were looking at something beyond the walls came right back down to this room and stared at Wakumi in surprise and a bit of discomfort. A slow blush built, from her chin all the way to the roots of her hair. But it was the slight upturn of her lips that sold it. A hint of a joyful little grin that told Wakumi she had her.

***

“Is everything alright Young Taylor?” The damn Carrier asked, feigning innocence even as her signal filled with glee, completely overriding the pain. If there was a hint of malice or mocking Taylor would have done something to retaliate, but there wasn’t. The title was filled with warm affection that stunned Taylor. It was a term of endearment, not a subordinate calling her boss.

Tinted with willingness to be of service, to be there and support her and significant inner relief. Faced with the evidence of how much Wakumi was struggling with the more casual terms Taylor was used to, she couldn’t find it in herself to tell Wakumi to knock it off. Not when she’d found a happy compromise that let her show the respect Wakumi felt was due and call Taylor by name as she’d asked. No matter how embarrassing it was. Taylor was not a kid. She was probably older than Wakumi by at least ten years.

“But I can’t exactly tell her that, can I?”

It had absolutely nothing to do with how her inner six year old had decided to jump around and shout “Princess Taylor, Princess Taylor!” Like it was real, like it could be real.

“Sure, the job comes with a hell of a lot of burdens and nasty obligations. Plenty of fucked up rules and twists to deal with. But hell if I remember the last time someone that wasn’t family looked at me like that.”

The Undersiders didn’t count. “They were family, in the end. A deeply fucked up family, maybe, but it counts.”

Taylor got off that trail of thought before it spiraled. It had its ups and down, but now wasn’t the time. She had questions.

“Just fine,” she denied with a sigh. Her face was still burning and wouldn’t stop.

“You were talking about Hierarchy.” Missouri in person was a problem for another day. Scrying was a problem she needed to think about now.

“I hope there’s some way to stop it. Now the need for the whole hair finger Morse code makes more sense. I’d hate to be so limited for sharing secrets. Never knowing if someone is listening in.”

“Of course.” Wakumi chirped. Her signal flared with pain again but she kept her game face on, barely pausing.

“The Hierarchy of skills, ships and rituals. Ships are easy. Experience we’ve covered. Class is another, somewhat linked with tonnage. The bigger the ship, the more powerful and prominent they become, with Installations like Midway in charge.”

“Figures kids would default to the strongest being in charge. How does the Court even work like this?”

“Midget subs don’t count as separate ships. Nor do artillery imps. I think your torpedo boats count as well, though Tender Princesses usually carry seaplanes. Installations are the ones with midget subs or artillery imps. These are all parts of the shipgirl; mobile semi-independent equipment. The repair baths work on them, so don’t try to spare them.“

Which Taylor already knew, but no point interrupting her.

“They’re meant to sacrifice themselves if their mothership needs it. It’s a common mistake for blue Tenders to spare and save their dependents, even at the cost of sinking themselves.” Wakumi advised.

“The lowest true independents are Destroyers. I-Class like Itchy are the oldest model. The models are I, Ro, Ha, Ni, and the Na-Class Destroyers. The Na is one nasty monster, with enough firepower to outmatch most Light Cruisers, at the cost of a standard destroyer’s torpedoes.”

“There’s more than four Classes just for destroyers? I’m going to need notes.”

“Next rank up are Light and Torpedo Cruisers. Ho, He, To and Tsu-Class Light Cruisers and Chi-Class Torpedo Cruisers. They’re the smallest classes that are girls, not monsters. Well, among the warships. Subs don’t count. They’re sneaks,” Wakumi defended herself. It was lucky Shun had begged off coming ashore, or this could have started a whole new argument. “Prejudice is alive and well in the Abyss.”

“Then come Heavy Cruisers and Light Carriers. Ri and Ne-Class Heavy Cruisers and Nu-Class Light Carriers. Like me.” The Carrier said with a wry twist of her lips. Part embarrassed to be talking about her class, and a bit proud. “Battleships and Carriers might be the backbone of any fleet, but it is Cruisers and Light Carriers that see action on the regular.” Her face was calm, with traces of distant bittersweet poison that had long since settled.

“We’re cheaper to repair and raise, and easier to replace if we can’t come back.” The matter of fact way Wakumi had made peace with that was... Taylor tried to swallow quietly, feeling her fingers clench.

“Finally, there are Full Carriers and Battleships. Wo-Class Carriers and Ru and Ta-Class Battleships. At the very top of regular ships are Re-Class Aviation Battleships, who can do both. They are rare and prized. Tend to be unpleasant for it. Sorry, I should be frank. They’re spoiled and almost none of them have ever Ascended. Usually they want to be an even better ship, so the ones that are worth something become Elites.”

“That’s seventeen different models of ships. I think I have a lot of reading ahead of me if I’m to plan a fleet around all this.” Taylor had known some of them, but this was still a lot all at once. It was like trying to learn the elements back in chemistry. They all meant something, but until they did, they were just names.

“That’s also the standard line of command among regular ships, when a Flag or someone higher isn’t present. It can get ugly when two ships of a similar tonnage but different class duel for leadership. It’s usually Light and Torpedo cruisers, or a fight among the different destroyer breeds, but sometimes a couple of the big girls get into it and that can get expensive, quickly.”

“Wait.” Taylor interrupted. “Wasn’t Shinigami dueling a Heavy Cruiser as a Battleship?”

“At medium and close range, Heavy Cruisers can challenge Battleships. It isn’t usually done, but it happens. Especially some of Midway’s Ne-Class Kai upgrades. But putting so much ship into a girl, it’s dangerous and can unbalance them further. Some of the finest Ne-Class Kai’s can match or exceed a lesser Demon or Princess shell for shell. They’re frightening in action and an asset to any fleet.” Taylor was hearing the point Wakumi was making but a large part of her wasn’t appreciating it at all. The rest paid attention.

“There are a few special cases that aren’t in the warship line of command. Submarines for one. Repair ships and fortresses. And transports, thought official command usually doesn’t matter with them.”

Wakumi laughed, even knowing she’d be hit with pain a moment later.

“They’re happy to help if not under other orders. Usually.”

Taylor let her calm down before threatening: “If you don’t stop moving you’ll be eating rations for the entire duration of your recovery. However long that takes.”

The Light Carrier choked. Taylor was subjected to an entirely new kind of horror: watching a warship give her soulful puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” Wakumi all but bawled.

Taylor twitched and tried not to be sick. That wouldn’t be good. Watching a warship beg, watching Wakumi switch like that from helpful assistant stoically putting up with her wounds to little girl in a flash was freaky. She managed to control her own expression, but something must have leaked because the next moment Wakumi was the one disturbed.

“Taylor, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Fully aware they might have watchers, current or from the future, Taylor just shrugged. “You said regular ships. What about the rest?”

The Carrier looked at her for a few breaths, struggling with herself, before reluctantly dropping it.

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“It’s a bit of a mess. There’s Elites and Flagships which are clear enough, but also late models, Kai refits, Flagship remodels. It depends on what the Installation in question managed to invent, advance. That’s without going into the various different models of Elite or Flagship that some Classes have.“ The carrier was not happy with the disorder.

“As an overview, it goes Regular, Elite, and Flagship, which is where we started. The rest came after and is usually better than the original, but might not be better than an Elite or a Flagship of the same. In general, late models are better, remodels are better and might or might not count as a lesser Kai depending on who you’re talking to. Real Kai’s are flat out superior, each Kai improving on the last. As I understand it, a Kai isn’t just a refit, or better equipment. A girl has to be very, very good and go through a lot of fights to qualify for a Kai once, let alone twice.” It was said casually which didn’t make it any less pointed.

Taylor gave Wakumi an entirely unamused look and lightly squeezed her shoulder to show she understood. The pain was incidental. The nasty thing was Taylor almost believed that.

“Yeah. This is a problem.”

It didn’t even feel like a choice. Just a sudden explosion of the sea of hatred she was keeping at bay and it was like watching someone else do it in her body. Like she’d blacked out but could still see. The loss of control was sickening, and with her supposed weight and power went past terrible and into terrifying.

“How stupid is it that the familiarity helps deal with it? How much terrible shit have I faced that terror is familiar ground?” It was probably for the best not to think about that.

It took a few minutes for the wounded girl to be able to produce any sound but a teeth-clenched, pained wheeze. Taylor spent them forcing her own inner demons back into their box. Or she might just leave Wakumi here and go looking for a more deserving target.

***

The shoulder squeeze hadn’t hurt. The rebuke that had flowed through it had set Wakumi’s already tender insides on fire. She lost track of time trying to hold still and not make it worse. Her sight was blurry. Eventually things eased a bit. A large shape came into view and gently removed wetness from her cheeks. A few extra blinks cleared her sight.

“Right. I’m done being a Flagship for today. It hurts too much. This issue is much worse than I thought.”

“Where was I?” She asked. Her voice shook a bit, but it was manageable, the pain down to a nasty burn instead of an overwhelming white-out. The room felt far too small, to be sharing it with an angry Princess while this weak, exposed. Wakumi had had worse, but it was usually after being shot in battle. The Enemy could hurt in a way only a Princess or a Demon could really reproduce. Still she smiled at her Princess. It wasn't her fault.

Wakumi felt another pulse coming and braced for more pain. It never came. As Taylor looked at her smiling face, a single tear fell from her eyes. Caught by the same fingers where Wakumi’s own tears had gone. The Princess looked at the mixing tears in fascination. There was a distant roar somewhere far away and much too close as the Princess’s pupils filled with incandescent light. Light reflected in her hand. The hand extended, a tiny orb of contained lightning hanging above Wakumi’s chest and she was far too scared to speak. Interrupting a Ritualist, let alone a novice, was often costly if not deadly. The orb dropped, Promising an End. Wakumi hoped she wouldn’t be dead long.

“Killed by my own Princess on accident. What a way to go.” Which was the thing. Nothing about the Princess or the Ritual felt malicious, hurtful. It didn’t have to be to kill her worse than just dead. Not under these circumstances.

The orb touched her flesh and passed right through without any resistance. The skies above her spirit opened up, blotting out everything as oblivion called. Some time later, Wakumi found herself still in bed, blinking. The Princess was still there and the shadows hadn’t moved much. She felt…

“Better? How do I feel better?”

No, she wasn’t going to ask. The Princess already looked entirely too self-satisfied.

“Princess. Please don’t use unknown Rituals until you know what you’re doing. Instincts are good, but I’d really rather not be scattered all over the Abyss on accident. It would be a miserable end for such a long serving shipgirl. A ritual misfire in neutral waters could also violate Court law. ”

“If you will not be sensible on your own, I am not above threatening you with other consequences. No matter how helpful this time, gambling like that isn’t safe.” Wakumi took a moment to make sure the Princess had acknowledged the point.

The fires had gone down to a low broil so they might as well continued where they left off.

“Beyond the exceptional come those who touch the True Abyss. Demons and Princesses.”

She took a deep breath. Wakumi hated talking about Demons. The fear of becoming one, of falling to her nightmares had kept her from a crown of her own and every time the subject came up it hurt all over again.

“Taylor, the True Abyss? Well, I would give you the standard talk but you obviously know more than I do.” She pointed out with as much of a smile she could muster. Now that the initial excitement had passed over her new trick, Taylor was slowly slouching again. Wakumi hated to see her unhappy. It was bad for her and the Fleet. A sign Wakumi wasn’t doing her job as a Flagship, even if she wasn’t Her Flagship.

“No, I’m done for today. Just answer her.”

“A Demon can come from many things and they come in many forms. Some seem perfectly fine on the surface. What they all share is that each and every one has allowed, or suffered to have their nightmares take them over. It’s what happens when a twist wins, or a girl tries to Ascend and falls to her own inner Abyss, cracking her forever. Some of the Outcasts claim their “methods” allow them to become Demons in a controlled manner, but even if true, it’s horrible and stupid and why would anyone want to live like that?”

Wakumi could barely tolerate her nightmares in her sleep, after long years getting used to them. To have them follow her awake would be unbearable.

“Almost without exception, Demons need minders for any serious planning and without an official exception, any Demon in Court service has one. If they don’t, one is assigned. They rise in power, from Regular Demons, to War Demons, Water Demons and Named Demons. The Ghost of Kyushu is one you might have heard of.” The windows flew open, frigid winds filling the room.

“That was sudden. Who would have-Shun. She walked into the Ritual for her. How many seamines are hidden in those dark waters?” Wakumi wondered. “How many more will I step on?”

At least this time she didn’t get chastised for overstepping. Still, Wakumi sent Her a silent apology. She hadn’t known. Submarine on submarine combat was rare. Demons could complicate matters, “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Princesses follow a similar path, with much less misery, loss of control and sense. Regular Princess, War Princess, Water Princess, Named Princess. Midway is Named. There are plenty of Princesses with a common name beyond their class, but less than fifty formally Named worldwide. Probably less than twenty in Court. Maybe thirty if you count the Dominions as well.”

Wakumi hadn’t heard of all of them, but she knew quite a few of the locals. She felt a bit of awe, just thinking of the next part.

“But there is one more rank for a Princess to aspire to: to be an Abyssal Princess. Not a Princess of the Abyss, but one that brings it with her. They’re pillars of the Abyss. Love or hate them, everyone knows of them. At least the ones still alive.” She corrected, filled with a sense of incredible inevitability and just a bit of disbelief at succeeding despite those odds. The Light Carrier still woke up some days and couldn’t believe that so many fell forever and she was still here.

“The First Central, who’s contribution is under Court Seal and even if I knew about it I couldn’t tell you, Taylor. But even with the Court warring on the Outcasts, her followers? To conversion, death, or the bitter end. Despite that we still celebrate her birth each year for whatever it is she did. Everyone does. You’ll hate it. Twists swell into bigger, nastier versions of themselves and its worse for Demons. Only Princesses are spared, or if not, good at hiding it. “ Wakumi doubted the second option, but it was there.

“Whatever her contribution, she’s gone and not coming back, if she hasn’t come back after all these years.” That was a relief. For all her supposed skill, that woman had been a real monster she was happy to have never had the chance to meet.

“The Second Central, who lost it all. She’s retired and just Named now. But in her prime she was a force of nature, her work and deeds cut short.” Dwelling on what the world might look like if she hadn’t been was pointless.

“The Twins whose entire fleets were lost when the enemy made their push. Northern Waters chief rivals and little else. For whatever else they might have been has been obliterated by the wars till only a few stories survive. One story names them close friends and allies of Katharine, but who knows?”

Wakumi tried to keep the distaste out of her voice. It wasn't her place to influence a Princess on matters like this.

“Leviathan, leader of the Outcasts. Said to poison or corrupt anything she touches, heir of the First Central and one of the finest flesh sculptors in the world. I think the Court is still working on breaking down some of her monster designs and she keeps coming up with more and better ones. She’s half-monster herself.”

“And always looking to capture more girls to add to her cursed fleets. I hope Taylor doesn’t take us too far down south. Fighting Outcasts is easier than most others, but the consequences of being captured alive are terrible.”

“Raven. Unstoppable, unsinkable. Death incarnate come to claim her due and the main reason the stars dare not fall on Abyssal fleets. Warden of the worst cells in any Court ocean.” “And that’s all I’m saying on it.”

“The Party Princess, who makes her home on Jamaica. A neutral that has dedicated her life to enjoying life and finding new ways to do so. As well as introducing them to more girls. Apart from The Enemy, no one hates her. In the Abyss, with all our twists. Her goal has left her weak and without enemies to abuse it. She regularly uses the Court system to send out leisure activities.”

Wakumi paused for a moment, wondering if Taylor even knew the Court broadcasts were a thing. She decided to test the waters.

“You might be interested in her cooking shows Young Taylor. I hear they’re exceptional.” She added with just a hint of a playful smile. Better food meant better morale. She wasn’t completely shirking her responsibilities. That she’d benefit as well was just an extra plus.

“The Inner Sea Pirate. The only Abyssal fleet to have survived in the Mediterranean and a firm follower of the original Northern Water Princess. Her Dominion is lukewarm to the Court, at best. She loves a good fight. However, many European girls still look up to her.”

“I’d prefer to be in her fleet. But too many girls can’t make it like that. You can’t win a war, fighting separately when The Enemy is united. Since the Court is what works, here I am. Maybe someday.”

Taylor interrupted her as she paused to figure out how to start the next part.

“This is the easy part? The one we already mostly covered?” She asked skeptically.

“Yes?” It wasn’t complicated or very involved. “What’s the problem?”

“Kaede might actually hurt me if I keep pushing you, Wakumi. Rest, relax. I’ll find something else to occupy myself.” Taylor got up and the cozy atmosphere ebbed. Young Taylor opened the door, looking at the hole she’d punched in the wall.

“Who maintains these?” She asked.

“Freighters Taylor. They do a lot, or don’t you remember?” Teasing was probably risky, but it was fine for a parting shot. “Casual, right?”

Even if the reaction was bad, Taylor probably wouldn’t take it out on her. Freighters, real ones, were used to taking it. It was part of how they made up for not standing in battle with everyone else.

“The sooner I can get a handle on our Princess, the less we’ll all suffer in the long-term. You did order us to reduce unnecessary suffering Taylor.”

She didn’t freeze up, or really respond at all, leaving Wakumi stuck in bed, with nothing she could do. While there was an entire island of work to be done. Maybe intentionally trying to provoke her Princess into this wasn’t the best idea?

“No. There was no one else. Like so many sacrifices, it had to be done. Now I just have to pay for it.”

…

“Paying for it is already unpleasant.”

She knew what it was. It was worry. But there was nothing she could do anymore but delay her recovery, so with trained efforts she slowly shut herself down. It really helped in this difficult situation. Her working on the ability to rest or recover under any circumstance was something Wakumi was fairly proud of. Learning to do so again proved the right choice.

***

Taylor was done after that deluge of information. She really wanted some time to go over it all. The freighter servant living with them, something any Princess was apparently assigned while in Anchorage, was happy to fix the wall and keep an eye on Wakumi. That was an unexpected surprise, when it really shouldn’t have been. Of course she now has her own servants, trained to follow her every whim and wish.

Taylor had tasted the other side of that training and she wanted nothing to do with it. She really could use a drink. As she emerged from her new home, the sun was just peaking over the horizon.

“It’s late. But I don’t really feel like sleeping or reviewing yet.”

Nothing hard but she was sure she had some nice soft drinks in her hold…

Here, somewhere. Why were her luxury goods in disarray?

…

“What happened to all of my things?”

…

“What do you mean you had a beach party!?”