Taylor kept her gaze firmly at her feet. Well, on her dress, she couldn’t see her feet. Next to her Sapphire’s feet went tap, tap, tap on the surface of the sea. She wasn’t going to say anything. She’d asked and now she’d pretend that everything was fine. Because regular bosses could be mean when a worker embarrassed them and she didn’t want to find out what Sapphire would do. But she had warned her it might take her significantly longer to stop with a full load.

Maybe Sapphire figured since she was going slower it would all work out. Yeah. So here they were. Off the coast of Mexico. Practically at their destination. Really when you think about it they’d gotten amazingly close. The mouth of Acapulco harbor was close, just 8-10 miles. Behind them. Taylor was slowly sliding to a stop. She was almost done. There, she’d stopped. Now to turn around and make like this never happened.

“You! You stay right there missy! Don’t so much as think about moving from this spot.”

Really it wasn’t that bad. Seeing the harbor. Realizing that her warning had been prescient and that even with another Ne-Class towing her, they couldn’t stop fast enough. No one laughed as the two of them slid by the harbor mouth, unable to stop, the Ne hanging by Taylor’s skirts, her feet skidding in the sea. The rest of the convoy watching helplessly. They didn’t laugh. Much. At least they didn’t have to pay for the tow. The Princess was happy to oblige, the entertainment was well worth it.

***

Taylor settled into her assigned dock. It was kind of silly. The Supply Depot Princess didn’t really have a cargo dock big enough for her. So she’d slotted her into a Battleship resupply one and was counting on her cranes to help them unload. The first hour wasn’t great. The pier struggled to handle the traffic, carry-crabs jostling and pushing past each other. Yet in that hour the Princess built and expanded the dock around them while they were unloading.

Watching the Abyss build was fascinating. Being this close to a Princess was nauseating. Dread was pooling in Taylor’s stomach and she was struggling to balance wants and needs. She needed to be unnoticed. Or at least, unacknowledged. She wanted to watch the Princess build. In practice, it meant not paying attention to what she was doing, even if she dearly wanted to. Taylor ordered her sensor crew to record everything on passives only, but remained otherwise mute. Trying not to draw attention. It wasn’t working well, but the Princess seemed more interested in the idea of her and the possibilities than of having a close and more personal look at Taylor herself.

When she left, Taylor withheld a sigh of relief. Twice now, one of the little cheeky buggers had tried to take a package that wasn’t meant for it. Taylor knew, for Midway this was not. She could track every one of them here and with the Princess gone, she dared power back up the rest of her sensor suite. It was odd. The abyssal construction had eaten the harbor. Well, most of it. What wasn’t claimed was either destroyed or abandoned. High walls surrounded the Depot and warehouses, an airfield, and what looked like a command post.

A in addition to the crabs, a number of little nightmares freely walked the base. She saw several armored armadillos patrolling the roads, with cannons on their backs. Her senses told her they were tanks. She didn’t question it. But it did make her curious. What was the situation on the mainland outside these walls? How far did the influence of the Abyss reach?

***

Yukiko dreamed. Her birds were in flight but this was allied territory. She wasn’t expecting trouble. The Supply Depot Hime would not dare touch them directly while they were on Midway business. Others, more suited for watching for subtler threats would deal with them. She was on break, but she kept a CAP, just in case. She’d pick up replacements for her lost fighters while they were here. She had time. Big Bertha would take almost two days to fully unload.

Yukiko wished she was back East. She dreamed of the day when she could make Kaga watch as she sank every escort around her. Make her suffer as she did. Show her how little her efforts mattered and how easy it was to lose, fail. To be left alone in the world. Where were her sisters? What was that bitch doing to them?

Her daydreams were interrupted as she was switching her flights. Huh. She usually kept her head down. Why was Bertha looking at her? She waved. Big Bertha waved back and stepped towards her, causing a ruckus to break out at the docks, before sheepishly sliding back into place. What now?

She better get over there before the girl manages to somehow trip and cause a tsunami. That would piss off their hosts.

…

Why would she want airplane lessons? Huh. That wasn’t a bad idea. She might make a decent tender.

“Sure. I can spare the time. But why would I help you?”

Yukiko didn’t know she had some of those in her rigging. It was nice to see a younger sister take up her predecessor’s ways. The Wa-class did always know to keep a few trinkets on them to convince any escorts to stick around with them if the convoy had to scatter. But a few trinkets weren’t going to cut it. “Where did you get that?” It was beautiful. A dolphin breaching the surface, finely wrought in silver.

Why yes, she would like a new silver necklace.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Of course someone as clumsy as you shouldn’t wear it, you’ll only break it Bertha. Let me hold on to it for safe keeping.”

Now to fob off her CAP to newbie. Win-win-win. Maybe this trip wasn’t a total waste of her time.

Ah, Kaga. You’ll look great in tears.

***

The Wo-Class never gave her name. None of the other girls used it. She was always the carrier, or the Wo-Class. Taylor figured maybe they could bond a bit, feel each other out. The girl wasn’t having it. She was off in her own head. Reminded her a bit of… her head hurt. Labyrinth. No, Elle. Her name was Elle. She made portals. Now that brought a smile to her face. But she needed to focus. The Wo-Class droned on about ascent angles and thrust. About weight profiles and fuel ratios.

It was disinterested, rote. The Wo’s entire character was detached from the world. She smelled an opportunity and it gave Taylor a wicked idea. So she casually laid her hand on the Wo’s shoulder and smiled at her demurely, feigning warmth she didn’t feel to a ship that didn’t care because there was always someone watching. And Taylor adjusted the terms of their agreement. The Wo was happy. After all, less work for her.

Really, letting Taylor borrow her training manuals was much simpler than having to try teaching her. She just had to give them back when they got back to Midway. She would. She’d also make copies by then but it was best not to trouble the Wo with that. Two birds, one stone. Because Taylor? Taylor didn’t have any manuals.

***

“What are you looking at?” Everything was unloaded and the negotiations were over, so Sapphire was taking a break. And who should she spot plotting?

“The city. It isn’t what I expected.” and it wasn’t.

She vaguely remembered some old commercials about Mexican beaches. And the beaches were nice. And abandoned. The city was still there. Spreading out around the Abyssal Depot. Taylor didn’t really have the equipment to receive video signals from aircraft and even if she did, the aircraft didn’t have cameras worth the name. In the short time before she’d interrupted the Wo droning on she’d mentioned something about looking through the eyes of the birds but Taylor had no idea how that worked.

She cheated. Her merry band of twitchy maniacs had gone mad and created some kind of franken-thing, cannibalizing one of her outer observation cameras and a significant chunk of her spare electronics. They’d recruited a few from her engineering and maintenance gang and set about jury-rigging some kind of two-way TV signal and a portable battery pack. Then it was a simple matter of slapping the camera and batteries on the plane and jacking in the feeds to her bridge. Presto, a two-way link that might hold up for a full flight, even if they had to stay low and close. Simple really, only took about sixteen hours of work and most of her replacements for the bridge.

If Taylor had any idea how involved the whole thing would get, she would have stopped them before they got so committed to it. Now she’d paid the price, might as well benefit. Though she would have to report the expenditure and get replacements while they were here. Now how to justify it? Ah, she hit her head on one of the dock cranes. A perfect excuse for Big Bertha. Sapphire would see right through it, but would she care?

But back to the beaches. They were really nice beaches. Taylor wished she could visit one, instead of being stuck, tethered to this pier. She understood this wasn’t their base, but still. None of them were allowed to have a look around? Bit harsh. And suspicious, but she wasn’t going to pry. Officially. No the city really held her attention. It was fine. A bit neglected, overgrown, but fine. Some buildings had collapsed and many showed signs of shelling. Others had been left exposed to the elements, but many were still just standing there. Empty and abandoned.

Taylor guessed no one wanted to live near the Abyss. She did spot a few scavengers darting between the buildings. Some of them were human and painfully close.

Sapphire shrugged and popped up, sitting on the pier with her legs hanging over the side.

“What did you expect?” the Ne asked bluntly.

“I’m not sure. More corpses?” It was a big city. Not like New York, but bigger than her home.

“Eh, the animals got them. The ones the floaters didn’t pick up themselves” she answered brusquely.

“You let them collect their dead.” Taylor blurted, surprised.

“Yeah? Who’d want that stinking up the place. You really ask about the silliest things. Who cares, they’re gone. Ours now.” she said with a relaxed smirk.

“I mean… it just impressive. Especially the field to the north.” she prodded.

“Ohh. Good eyes.” Saph praised, loving the way she flinched. She could humor her. Bertha had earned a reward, hadn’t she?

“So listen up and no interruptions. About three years back the war was heating up. And I mean red hot, mind your boilers kind of stuff. Hawaii is being a pain in our ass, so some of the girls from First Pacific West get together and they have a brilliant idea.” she said with scorn.

“Why don’t they go around Hawaii and hit the mainland. Because leaving an enemy at their back is a great idea, yes?” she snorted.

“So it goes about as well as you’d expect and some of them limp back to port and get their butts handed to them. But one of them, one lucky stupid bitch gets lost at sea and winds up so far south she’s halfway to Acapulco and still thinks she’s in US waters. She suddenly starts getting sonar returns and begins dropping depth charges, right?”

“Long story short the brilliant drug dealers who own the boat and the folks backing them decide that they’d love to have the support of naval canon for their little disagreement with their government. So we get some local help and most of the rest of the nation calls them deranged lunatics, while screaming for military action, but that isn’t really our problem now is it?” she asked absently.

“The city changed hands several times in the past few years, but that first attempt to reclaim the city was by far their stupidest. Back then they still believed their toys could hurt the Abyss. Or at least the Army did.” she concluded, laughing merely.

“So they send. Hehe. They send a bunch of tanks.” she smiled. “All the tanks.” she waved her hands trying to encompass the sheer numbers.

“Depending who you ask there was somewhere between four and twelve thousand tanks in that charge. I don’t know, I can’t be bothered to count their shells.” she dismissed.

“Our side had two battleships with attendant fleets and a convoy of troop transports. To secure the base. They landed about seventy armadillo tanks. Not these models, but the previous.” she pointed out.

“We lost about half our forces. The armadillos, not the ships.” she clarified.

“As for them? Well, you can see for yourself.” And she could.

“What’s their name?” Taylor asked, pointing.

Sapphire turned, looking at the mountains in the distance. Her face scrunched up in thought.

“Huh. I do know that. The Sierra Madre del Sur. No clue what it means.” she shrugged.

Seeing Big Bertha embroiled in deep thought, judging by that faraway look, she figured story time was over and her job done.

Taylor watched. She recorded it. The planes and foothills between Acapulco and the mountains were carpeted with broken vehicles. “Why?” she asked.

Sapphire stopped, looking back at her over her shoulder. Examining her, picking out which why to answer. She scoffed. “Because it doesn’t matter how fine their works or great the numbers. They lack weight.” She walked away as Taylor listened to the slight echo the word carried. Heard not with her ears or equipment, but other senses. And she brooded.

She’d deny she was brooding if asked, but she was brooding. It seemed appropriate.

“Well fuck me.”

Unknown to her she was indeed about to be screwed, in a most familiar but unexpected manner.