I scowled as the last of the easily dissolving paint slipped down the drain. That could have gone a lot better. Compared to the first time, it was a better showing by some margin. But my fire control systems were nowhere near that good, lacking radar and other crucial components meant my aim had still been a mess. Then came down to lack of practice.

I'd taken a few splashes from the bomb hits, alongside getting nicked with a torpedo. It wasn't enough for me hit the shower or anything, but it was certainly enough for me to change into a fresh set of clothes. Out of my shipgirl dress and into a more comfortable set of civilian clothes. I knew Connie had a similar idea to me, given how she had joined Louisiana and me's journey to the battleship dorms.

She'd taken a smaller bomb, a single one, on her shoulder, so she at least wanted to freshen up.

Louisiana hit the shower immediately. I wasn't entirely sure why. She certainly took a few more hits than Connie had, but between the two of us acting as a screen around her, Louisiana had escaped the worst of the strike. She only took two bombs to my four. But then again, as I'd found out the hard way, one bomb could easily be more than enough to take a ship out of the fight. Especially when it slams into your turret and explodes.

My hand twitched, a brief twinge of phantom pain coming through at the memory. That strike had pretty much knocked me out, and the thing was? It could have easily been considerably worse.

Shaking off the memory, I lightly tapped on the bathroom door, the sound of the running shower easily making its way through. Louisiana had been there since we arrived, and she hadn't said a word since the exercise. Seeing her that quiet was, concerning. While I wouldn't go as far as to call my sister a chatty Cathy or anything, but she tended to be a bit more expressive and talkative than that.

"Are you okay in there?" I asked, hoping my words carried over the noise of falling water. Maybe it was shock? Even though it was training, that exercise had probably been the first time my sister had come under air attack. She probably didn't know how modern wars were fought. I mean, I told her about it, but there is a fine line between being told and seeing it for oneself. Let alone experiencing it.

"I'll be out in a few minutes," Louisiana's voice rang back, sounding almost normal. However, her tone felt hollow, as if something had been carved out of it.

"Hey. If you want to talk about it with me, you can," my statement hung in the air for a few moments, before I heard the shower turn off. I backed away from the door once I heard the rustling of clothes, taking a seat at my bed. It was quite comfortable, more than enough to support my weight, even if I was more ship-like.

After a moment or two, the sounds of movement stopped, and the door creaked its way open.

Louisiana. She.

No great way to put it, but she looked like a mess. Her dress was wrinkled, further reinforcing that once she could control her weight from human to ship that we were going shopping for some civilian clothes. Louisiana's hair was still damp, water still dripping off the edges.

Her eyes were puffy and red. Not to the point where it looked like Louisiana had been crying, but appeared as if she were on the brink of tears. In an instant, I bolted upright, closing the distance between me and my sister in a blink, before wrapping her into a tight hug.

"You're safe here," I rubbed her back as Lousiana let out a hiccup.

"How can you handle feeling so powerless like that?" I could have easily mistaken my older sister's voice for a whisper. "I couldn't do anything against those things. Even against a dreadnought, we would still be able to fight back! But against those planes?"

"An aircraft carrier can launch attacks at targets more than a hundred miles off, without fear of retaliation from surface targets," the words came out of my mouth before I could fully get my thoughts together. "Everyone is pretty much powerless against that. Airpower and excessive anti-air are the only two available options, and right now we don't have either."

"That's what the retrofits will be for," Louisiana looked up at me, frowning.

"I noticed the new guns before. But they weren't enough," she placed her head back on my shoulder.

"This? This isn't the retrofit. This is the rushed patch job they did to make sure I had some degree of means of defending myself if I ever came under air attack again," Louisiana looked back up this time her eyes seeming to sparkle with a dusting of tears, but also something else.

Was it? Hope?

"Really? They're going to give us another chance?" her voice sounded as if she didn't believe herself. I could understand why. When it came to came to the pre-dreadnaughts, our star had set. Hell, the star had set on our successors, too. We weren't just made obsolete once, but rather, twice over.

It sounded harsh, but it was the truth. War was a cruel mistress, as was the march of time. One day, there would be a time when the star of the aircraft carrier would set as well, as technology advanced and war marched onwards. What the American navy had done when we were scrapped was ultimate, not a choice made out of cruelty, but rather, another simple fact of war and advancement. Even if the British had never envisioned the Dreadnought, someone else would have, and even bearing that miracle, we would have been rendered obsolete as bigger guns, better armor, and improved technology became implemented.

I'd come to terms with that, I think. Sadly, there was, practically, little to be done. Keeping an obsolete ship in the fight was dangerous to everyone, including the crew of such a vessel. And it wasn't like keeping a museum ship wasn't expensive, either, nor did most ships have the history to warrant such. Hell, even Enterprise hadn't been spared from the breakers, nor Saratoga from weapons testing.

Though, I had a sinking suspicion that my siblings might not share my thoughts on the matter.

A grumble filled the comfortable silence, almost to the shook of us both.

"Sorry, ma soeur," Lousinia blushed, shifting her feet as her stomach made one of the most un-ladylike sounds imaginable. I could help myself, snicker at the noise. For all her refined dignity, hunger was a force few shipgirls could never oppose.

"Come on, let grab some grub. I wanted to introduce you to my new friends, anyway," I chuckled, pushing open the door for her. One of these days, while on leave, I would probably introduce her to some of my old friends, too. Louisiana probably would get a kick out of it.

"Every well, petite soeur," a slight grin rested on Lousiana's face. "I'd very much love to meet these friends of yours."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"It took the two of you long enough," I would have shot a glare Amelia's way, but at this point, I assumed it would only make the reincarnated submarine laugh even more. "What exactly were the two of you doing up there?"

Laura elbowed the girl, with a bit too much force to pass off as a friendly reminder to be polite.

"She seems, pleasant," Lousinia didn't approve of the little remark, but seemed content to have a stiff upper limp to the whole thing.

"Don't mind Amelia too much. Somedays she has more in common with a Japanese lewdmarine than an American subtheif, anyway," Anong interrupted me from the other end of the table, sitting next to a pink-haired heavy cruiser I recognized as Quincy. I blinked but gave a quick nod to Principle Williams, who was sitting to the other side of her wife.

"I, see," Louisiana's face flashed briefly in a look of confusion, before setting on a more neutral expression. She probably didn't have a single clue what 'lewdmarine' or 'subtheif' even meant. The former would probably be something she would strongly disprove of, so to say I wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

Still, if the rumors were true, I'd take either of them over the absolute insanity of British subs or the over professionalism of German ones.

"Well, you've already meet Connie," I gestured to the battlecruiser, who was busy topping off her stomach. She immediately began to blush, turning her head away once I drew some attention to her. "Connie is a bit shy, so please don't take it personally."

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"I would do no such thing. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Connie," Lousiana bowed slightly, as much as one could while sitting down. Which only made the blushing battlecruiser turn an even brighter shade of pink. Impressive. She might just reach the point where her face just becomes a tomato.

"Those two are Anong and Amelia," I gestured over to the squabbling pair. Both didn't give my works any heed, continuing their argument. So long as it didn't come to blows like it had the first day, then it wasn't too much to worry about. I doubt the two would be willing to come to blows, here, of all places. "They'll probably be like that for a while."

"They do seem quiet, lively," my sister seemed to be a little less impressed with the two of them. Anong was pretty wild and free-spirited, with all the boons and banes that entailed. Amelia was. Amelia. I didn't see Louisiana getting along with the reincarnated submarine all that well.

"Jessica and Laura," I watched as the reincarnated Fletcher poked her head around my back, offering up her hand, to which my sister gladly shook. "Are my fellow bastion in semi-sanity."

"Really? Only just semi-sanity?" Laura let out a dramatic gasp, faking an injury of some kind. "You wound me."

Jessica, on the other hand, rolled her eyes, clearly not amused.

"We're shipgirls. The antics that happen daily probably remove any argument for sanity," I chuckled, as Louisiana let out a polite giggle, once again covering her face.

"Got me on that one," Laura shrugged, returning to her meal for a brief moment.

"I'm a bit surprised you guys all stayed to watch," I took a few quick bites out of my meal, attempting to keep the conversation rolling.

"Even if it's just watching, we have some form of practice.," Jessica let out a huff. "Sometimes observing someone else do it is better than read a book over and over again."

"Plus, it wouldn't be fair for us to head home early if you guys are going to be putting in all the work," Laura grinned, before leaning in close so she could whisper in my ear. "Connie kind of needs the support, anyway."

I could see that. It was kind of hard imagining one of the most powerful battlecruiser lines the United States has ever designed as such a big softy. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But compared to a lot of the big American capital ships, such a personality stood out.

"That is very generous of you all. I humbly extend my thanks to you all," Louisiana again bowed slightly, someone retaining a ladylike disposition, despite the whole, bowing and sitting down thing. Jessica and Laura both seemed to be taken aback, Jessica looking up from her meal while Laura just stared blankly.

"Damn. You're a real lady of war, aren't you?" Jessica shook her head. "We don't get too many of those in the United States Navy." I paused for a moment, thinking over all the American capital ships. Jessica wasn't exactly wrong.

Not entirely surprising, as the United States didn't exactly have as much of an extensive history of land-owning lords and barons. Sure, more than a few groups styling themselves as such, but nothing that matched the European nobility of old. Something that pissed off those individuals to no end, I'm sure. Attempting to imitate those that would sneer at them as lower.

"Lady of war?" Louisiana gave a slightly puzzled look. "I'm not entirely familiar with that term."

"It's a term used to describe someone refined and ladylike, but also goes to battle," Louisiana still gave me a confused glance as I tried to explain.

"Then would we all not be ladies of war?" Louisiana was technically correct with her statement. We were all ladies, in that sense.

Of course, given how most of us were in our civilian clothes, mostly consisting of various assortments of skirts, shorts, and t-shirts, it wasn't like that label stuck. I doubted I would even be considered as such, even in my dress.

"There's a bit more to it than that," I frowned, trying to put it in a way she would understand. "It's kind of like Hood. There's just a feeling of refined grace and elegance that just doesn't feel as if they should be on the field of battle. Yet, they're still more than capable of handling themselves."

"I'm not entirely sure I understand, but I'll take your word for it, petite soeur," Louisiana briefly returned to her meal, as a comfortable silence fell over us.

Well, as silent as a mess hall full of shipgirls could be, at any rate, as Amelia and Anong's argument continued. I wasn't even sure what the two were going back and forth about anymore. They'd had to have moved on to something else by this point. If we had continued our conversation I wouldn't have been able to pick up the increasingly loud pitter-patter of feet.

A very familiar pitter-patter of feet. By the time I realized what was happening, I had just enough time to brace for impact. The blow from two pre-teens impacting my body didn't go unnoticed, but I didn't lurch forward into my foot, which was a plus.

It didn't take many guesses to figure out who exactly was responsible for that.

I chuckled, straightening out my back from the blow, as the two who now clung to my shoulders grinned and giggled.

"Eren! Gale! What did I tell you two about doing that?" Lauren scolded the two, though I could tell that she was struggling to keep a straight face. I doubted either of the pair noticed their mother's conflict, as Lucas just shook his head.

Louisiana, on the other hand, looked startled at the twin lumps of human that found themselves attached to my shoulder. It was almost amusing, seeing a look of surprise on her face.

"Louisiana, these are my cousin's kids, Eren and Gale," I offered, trying to get both of them into her line of sight, without hitting Laura with one of the two. Beaning the reincarnated Fletcher in the face with two sets of feet would be uncalled for. It wasn't exactly easy to do, but I managed.

To my sister's credit, she seemed to recover quickly enough, her uncertain and surprised expression shifting to that of a smile.

"I'm very pleased to meet the two of you in person. Ma soeur has told me much about you two," Eren and Gale giggled, before returning her greeting.

"This is my cousin, Lucas, and his wife, Lauren," I gestured to the two they closed the distance at a much more measured pace than their children had.

"It is an honor to meet those who have been taking care of my petite soeur," Louisiana stood up, bowing her head slightly. Lauren was taken a bit off guard, but Lucas was far less so.

"Hey. Family takes care of family, after all," Lucas grinned, a warm expression written on his face.

"I know it's a bit of a surprise, but they were already missing you," I chuckled at his statement as if I couldn't tell by the two adorable back leeches that were now clinging to my back. "And their excitement about having a new cousin should not go unstated."

Then, as if it was some sort of signal, the two detached themselves from my back, before launching themselves into a hug on Lousinia. She staggered backward a bit, though it was probably more due to surprise than the twin blows from the scarcely more than four-foot frames.

For the first time outside of training, I saw a look of sheer utter, 'what do I do' written over my sister's face. It was almost kind of amusing, but at the same time, the more I thought about it, kind of sad. Outside of one's siblings, it's hard to consider what was and was not family. So extended family just beyond me and the rest of my siblings? That would be a foreign concept to Louisiana.

Maybe I should have asked Lucas to wait on dropping that surprise on her. Sure, she knew they existed, it would be impossible not to mention my human family during our talk. But the idea of it? Maybe I needed some time to ease Louisiana into the concept. She'd already been dropped into the deep end once today.

Then again, I thought, as I watched Lousiana gently reach down and rub their hair. Maybe I was worrying over nothing at all.