Three months had passed since that fateful night when Georgia had entered into the battle against Scion, the seemingly invincible entity that had threatened to bring about the end of the world. The world was still reeling from the aftermath of the cataclysmic clash.
The battle had been nothing short of apocalyptic, and the consequences were visible across the globe. The electromagnetic pulse generated by the explosion had led to rolling blackouts in cities and towns, plunging vast regions into darkness. Power grids were still being repaired, and the process was slow and arduous.
The coastal areas near the epicenter of the battle had indeed been devastated, and the road to recovery was a long and challenging one. Efforts to assess and mitigate the environmental damage were ongoing, with scientists and experts working tirelessly to understand and address the ecological disruptions caused by the rise in ocean temperature and oxygen depletion. Coastal communities were struggling to rebuild, and the scars of the battle remained visible in the altered landscapes.
The bay, which had already been in the process of rebuilding after the devastating attack by Leviathan, now faced further challenges. The USS Enterprise CVN-65, having survived the clash with Scion and still retaining power, was considered for a permanent station in Brockton Bay to provide much-needed electricity to the North-East of the United States. It was a potential lifeline for the region as it worked to rebuild its infrastructure.
The memory of Georgia's final, awe-inspiring attack had left an indelible mark on those who had witnessed it. Her courage in the face of overwhelming odds and her sacrifice had become a symbol of hope and resilience. The image of her standing resolute, tanking Scion's beams, and unleashing a world-ending explosion was etched into the collective memory of humanity.
But as with any great sacrifice, there was a void left in the hearts of those who had known Georgia as a leader and a friend. Her absence was deeply felt, and her legacy was carried forward by those who had fought alongside her.
In the three months that followed, the world had made slow but steady progress in rebuilding. Efforts to address the rolling blackouts were making headway, and power was gradually being restored to affected areas. Communities had come together in the face of adversity, fostering a renewed sense of unity and resilience.
Taylor, who had assumed a leadership role after Georgia's disappearance, dedicated herself to ensuring the success of the recovery efforts in Brockton Bay and beyond. She recognized the need to rebuild and expand the fleet to unprecedented levels, not only to secure and defend the United States but also to prepare for any future threats that might emerge.
It was this very dedication that had brought her to her current position, huddled behind the remnants of a building, thrust into what appeared to be one final, life-or-death battle.
January 23, 2012
Milwaukee Wisconsin.
The once tranquil city, which had rarely seen any conflict, was now shaking to its core. It was under attack by Behemoth, the world's last end-bringer, a monstrous entity with devastating radiation attacks. It is a deadly threat to most humans and heroes. However, in a little-known fact, the ship girls were immune to radiation, a crucial advantage in this last fight.
They had been trying to get a good hit on the slippery beast for the past 4 hours; most of the city was heavily damaged due to large and small naval shells along with bombs and Tiny Tims from the carriers.
"Corner it!" Taylor's urgent command echoed through the communications devices as she sprinted down the deserted streets. The once-bustling avenues were now deserted, and the city's serenity had been shattered by the relentless assault of Behemoth. With determination in her eyes, Taylor led the charge to confront the last Endbringer.
There were over 77 Ship girls here, the smaller ones rendering aid while the big ones faced off the Behemoth.
"I wish Georgia were here," Taylor mutters, dodging a flying piece of debris.
"I've got it!" a voice shouted over the comms as the ground shook violently once again.
As Taylor rounded the corner, she was met with an astonishing sight: a floating figure, the spirit of the Space Shuttle Enterprise, featuring a massive delta wing behind her back. In a departure from conventional armaments, her chosen weapon was the Canada Arm.
"Well done, Enterprise!" Taylor shouts happily to see the arm completely pinning the Endbringer in place. The powerful beast struggled against the massive manifestation of the claw arm.
"Battle Line 1 We got him still! We need gunfire support at the corner of Oklahoma and 20th Street by the Sports Center." Taylor says into coms.
"Warspite is underway leading the fleet." The smug British voice says over coms.
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Milwaukee's downtown area bore the mark of a massive crater, a stark reminder of the recent battle. However, the world could finally breathe a sigh of relief, for Behemoth had been defeated once and for all.
Weary from the long day's events, Taylor trudged into her combined office and apartment, collapsing onto her bed without hesitation.
"So much paperwork," she groaned as the exhaustion of the day weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Suddenly, the old squeaky door creaks open as a certain mousey redhead pokes said head into the door.
"Taylor, are you awake?" she says
Taylor, of course, waves at the door. "Hi, Amy," Taylor mutters tiredly.
"Hey, are you alright?" Amy's voice carried a soothing tone, a mix of care and devotion for Taylor, as she walked up and sat at the edge of the bed.
Taylor managed a faint smile, her weariness visible. "We did it, Amy. Behemoth is gone," she said, the tiredness clear in her voice as she stretched and readjusted the blankets.
Amy laid down next to the tired Taylor. "You led the team, Taylor. You were incredible out there."
"It was a lot of work, and the fleet put in so much effort," Taylor insisted, her thoughts drifting to battle only to be startled out of it as Amy grabbed her for cuddling.
"Of course, but you were the one at the forefront. Georgia would be proud," Amy says, her voice full of love.
"Thanks…" Taylor mutters as sleep takes her.
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One year after Georgia disappeared and Mordai was finally found, it was on a freighter bound for Japan. Nevada, upon finding the man, dragged him off the freighter and towards Pearl to get a suit.
His wedding with the USS Wisconsin was looking like it was going to be a national event. The ship girls, revered as heroes of the Navy, were beings of immense power, yet their bonds with humanity were often underestimated. So, a wedding between one of the strongest battleships and a human showed that the shipgirls were also surprisingly human.
The wedding at Pearl Harbor was a grand affair, carefully planned to honor the significance of the location and the union between Mordai and the USS Wisconsin. Most of the Navy's high command was showing up, along with several jealous sailors and all of Wisconsin's remaining crew.
The picturesque setting of Pearl Harbor served as a poignant backdrop, blending serene waters, lush greenery, and the historic monuments that dotted the landscape. The decor was a harmonious blend of elegance and reverence. White and navy blue hues dominated the color scheme, symbolizing purity and resilience. Delicate floral arrangements adorned the aisles, interwoven with maritime elements like seashells, pearls, and miniature ship motifs, evoking a sense of both romance and naval heritage.
The decision of who was to officiate the wedding was a tough one that didn't come without its share of commotion. Several naval chaplains, eager to officiate the historic wedding, had engaged in a "lighthearted," albeit spirited, competition over who would conduct the ceremony. Rumors of a "minor" scuffle or two among the chaplains had circulated, each vying for the honor of presiding over the event.
However, Arizona, with her keen understanding of the significance of the moment, intervened. Utilizing her connection to the bride, Wisconsin, she gracefully navigated the situation, advocating for her role as the officiant. Her wisdom, experience as a "Doctor of Anthropology," and unique bond with the shipgirl bride made her an ideal choice to solemnize the union.
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The entire wedding group was standing at the Pulpit as Uss Arizona walked out in the classic full-dress uniform.
Taylor being the maid of honor was the most obvious choice as the girl had done surprisingly well stepping into the role of flagship after Georgia was lost.
Mordai stood at the altar awaiting his bride in a Black and White suit, complete with a pocket watch. His red goatee was trimmed and in line, while his dark brown hair was cut short and trimmed. Green eyes looked through the crowd with a nervous look. Although, Mordia's best man… Was a husky man with an unkempt beard who looked like a conspiracy theorist. Who was also surprisingly from Canada? It was hard to tell he kept taking passing glances at USS Little Rock(CL-92).
As Arizona took the podium, she opened her mouth and began, "In the presence of these cherished guests and amidst the beauty of this day, we gather to honor and celebrate the love between Mordai and my own family, Wisconsin."
"Love, what a special word… What a special thing. Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, today we stand at the threshold of a union that embodies the spirit of a voyage upon the open sea. Marriage, much like navigating the vast ocean, presents moments of tranquil waters and occasional storms. However, through these trials and tribulations, it remains a continuous, thrilling adventure, where every day, there is something new." Arizona says.
With a light ought the old Standard class continued.
"Marriage, as I often reflect, resembles sailing a ship on unpredictable waters. At times, the seas may test the strength of the relationship, while at others, it's a beautiful journey under clear skies. But every wave, every turn, marks a new chapter in this surely to be a remarkable voyage."
"It's in these moments of change, in the cresting waves and the raging seas, that the true essence of a union is revealed. It's about standing together in the face of adversity, navigating the storms as a united front, and cherishing the calm that follows. It's an ongoing journey—one that promises growth, resilience, and shared experiences."
"May the voyage that Mordai and the USS Wisconsin embark upon today be one filled with the unwavering strength to face challenges and the joy of discovering new horizons together. Here's to embracing the adventure, cherishing the calm, and weathering every storm that may come your way."
"Let this union not just mark a moment but be a testament to the enduring commitment and the profound love between two souls setting sail on a lifelong journey. To Mordai and the USS Wisconsin, may your voyage be filled with boundless love, unwavering support, and a lifetime of beautiful adventures."
"Mordia, do you truly love Wisconsin with all of your heart?" Arizona asks
"I do," Mordai says seriously, staring at the shipgirl.
"Wisconsin, do you love Mordia with all eight of your boilers?" Arizona asks.
"I do," Wisconsin says, blushing a little.
"If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace," Arizona asks aloud to the procession.
"As you embark on this journey together, let this kiss be the symbol of the love and promise you have for each other," Arizona announces with a grin.
As the audience cheered upon the kiss, several news cameras caught the moment.
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A month after the wedding.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the office window, casting a warm glow on the cluttered desk where Taylor sat surrounded by stacks of paperwork. The old mahogany desk had been a fixture in the office for as long as anyone could remember, its worn surface showing signs of years of use.
With a focused expression, Taylor meticulously filled out forms, occasionally sipping from a lukewarm cup of coffee. The rhythmic scratch of the pen against paper was the only sound in the room until, suddenly, a faint ringing noise began to emanate from within the depths of the desk.
Taylor furrowed her brow, glancing around the desk for the source of the unexpected sound. The ringing persisted, growing louder with each passing second. She set down her pen, pushing aside a pile of documents to investigate. With cautious curiosity, she opened one of the drawers.
Nothing… Really?
Frowning, Taylor paused, glancing around the desk before her gaze settled on a peculiar panel she'd never noticed before. It seemed out of place, a section of the desk that appeared seamless but held the promise of a hidden compartment. She ran her fingers along the edges, finding a subtle seam that, when pressed, gave way with a soft click.
The ringing intensified as she opened the concealed compartment, revealing an unexpected sight—a sleek, modern cellphone nestled within, along with a notebook. Its screen is illuminated with an incoming call, the caller ID Brocton Bay CVB.
Curiosity piqued, Taylor answered. "Hello?"
A cheery voice greeted her from the other end. "Hi there, Taylor! This is Lisa from the Brockton Bay Conventions and Visitors Bureau. How are you today?"
Surprised, Taylor straightened in her seat. "Um, hi. I'm doing fine, thank you. How can I help you?"
Lisa's voice carried an unmistakable enthusiasm. "I wanted to talk to you about an exciting opportunity! We've been reviewing the paperwork Georgia had left with us and we wish to give some city funding to the museum along with officially recognizing it as a Museum in the city of Brockton Bay.
"That's great. If you just want to reach out with an email that tells me what to do, I'll have it done by Friday," Taylor says with a smile, looking at the notebook curiously.
Taylor's eyes widened in astonishment as she flipped through the pages of the password book found within Georgia's belongings. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the extent of access granted by these passwords—access to Georgia's accounts, including a multitude of PHO (Parahuman Online) accounts and other online platforms.
Among the list was Georgia's Tubeyou account, Earth Arche. Intrigued and slightly bewildered, Taylor navigated to the account, her curiosity piqued by the unexpected discovery. The account held a treasure trove of content, showcasing a unique world filled with all sorts of music that Bet had never seen before, seemingly a niche community Georgia had been a part of. I guess Sarah's theory of Georgia being from another world made a lot of sense now.
"I wonder how her legal degree is going?" Taylor mutters as she starts clicking around on the account info.
As Taylor delved deeper into the Tubeyou account, she found not just content but a substantial amount of money made from advertisements on the site, along with hundreds of unpublished songs. It was an unexpected windfall, especially considering the responsibility of caring for 77 ship girls at the museum.
Taylor had managed to figure out the cube transformation. However, she herself was not able to repair hulls as Georgia had been, which has been a massive resource pitfall recently.
As Taylor clicked back to the main site, there were several breaking news posts.
The world seemed to teeter on the edge of chaos, each headline more alarming than the last. The US Navy's rapid ship commissioning hinted at a global unrest brewing.
Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan were lining tanks along the borders, and apparently, the Parahumans in their armed forces had attacked Turkey.
Triggering Article 5.
5 mins ago.
"Fuck." Taylor mutters
China plunged into a civil war as survivors from the aftermath of Leviathan's sinking of Taiwan resurfaced. Their aim was to overthrow the government and reinstate the old Republic of China, which was good; they had been allied with America during the Second World War.
North Korean Artillery Shells had hit Seoul.
3 minutes ago
And nothing out of the Soviet Union… That was never good.
Suddenly, a phone began to ring again. Taylor looked up to see a call incoming from Admiral Avatar.
"Get the girls. It looks like we are needed," Taylor announces over the radio channel to all Shipgirls at the Museum.
Taylor picks up the phone. "Hello, Admiral."
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