Calling this situation a mess would be a considerable understatement. Sure, nobody had made the connection, besides the immediate family, but he knew that wasn't going to last. Someone had to have taken pictures of her awakening on that plane, and the moment the first one's hit the internet, they would be on a timer.

Damnit, there was a reason Jefferson was assigned to that base! He was already on thin ice, but this? Sure, there would be an investigation, but he had no doubts about its outcome. Nearly getting a shipgirl killed, likely on purpose? No, that would be the last straw, he suspected. It was a mercy that there was a patrol in the area, or otherwise they'd be dealing with something much worse.

He looked at the clock and frowned. As much as he would like to have the natural-born Connecticut back on her feet, he lacked a repair ship, and even if he did, he doubted she would be clear to leave the repair bath until long after the rest of her family arrived. While the damage she had sustained was far from fatal, it was considerable. Enough so that anyone not familiar with shipgirl injuries would be mortified. For her time, it was clear she was quite a powerful warship. But that was during her time. Now? She was decades behind, and it showed.

Even more damning right now was her age. While one could enlist at her age, and it was far from unheard of, it required parental consent to do so. Consent that was not given. One could already spin the use of destroyers as using child soldiers, and in fact, many had made such an argument.

It didn't take a media guru to see the scandal writing itself. And a coverup would only make things worse. Even the higher-ups saw that much. Though he doubted throwing Jefferson under the bus wasn't going to be enough to fix the issue. Sure, Kansas was old, but she was still a battleship.

She couldn't enlist yet, as it would be another year before she turned eighteen. Provided after this disaster she wanted to sign onto the Navy at all. His orders were to convince her parents, but quite frankly, after that, he doubted it was possible. In their eyes, the navy nearly got their daughter killed, instead of taking the rational path of keeping an untrained clunker off the front lines.

But a battleship roaming around freely? No, that wasn't going to work, either. That was just a disaster waiting to happen.

There was still some part of this that bothered him, though. Kansas had seemed eager, almost too eager to join the fight, based on the report, entering the fray nearly the same moment she had permission. Asking for which was strange enough in and of itself. While uncommon, and often time unfortunate, there were times shipgirls would awaken when confronted with extreme stress. Most commonly, Abyssal's. In those cases, most would fight without question or permission.

A personality quirk indicative of the Connecticut class overall? He didn't know. There were simply none of her sisters to compare that behavior too. Something to keep an eye on if he could.

Then there were the reports. South Dakota's were professional as always, going over the lists of observed damages, and her intercepting a bomb dropped on top of the flagging battleship. Washington's had yet to come in, as she was there only there to visit the first Dakota, as well a recruitment drive.

As for the Cruisers? Phoenix had ended up being nearly useless, mostly complaining about how she didn't get to fight, other than fighting off a few planes attempting to finish off Kansas. Denver was a bit better, but the Cleaveland had taken to calling the older battleship 'grandma' throughout the report. He'd hope she'd learned the first time she tried that stunt.

Huston and Omaha wouldn't be much help either. Kansas had slipped out of consciousness before the two had even gotten the chance to see her, let alone interact with her. So, South Dakota, it was, then. And she was probably enjoying her time in the repair bath, too. Still, it was better than nothing.

"Sir," a head peaked into his office. "The Williams are here to see you now."

"Thank you. Send them right in, and tell South Dakota to come here as soon as she is able," He nodded his thanks as the family stepped in.

He was right about one thing. Today wasn't going to be a good day.

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Everything felt warm. Pleasant. Comforting, in a way. Like being wrapped in a warm, liquid blanket.

Then came pain. My eye's opened wide, letting out a pitiful groan.

Where was I? Steam filled the air, rising off the tub I was in towards the overhead ceiling. Splashing and shouting revealed I wasn't alone. Around the pool I was sitting in, there was a wall? No that wasn't it.

I wasn't in my old clothes, or the dress, either. I could see the faint outline of a swimsuit, one of those old school ones used for gym class.

Ow, what happened? The last thing I remember was that bomb and, nothing.

Slowly, I raised my arm out of the water, only to find pain. Water splashed upward as I violently through the limb back underwater, grinding my teeth to keep myself from screaming. Leaning back, I let out a sigh, resting my head slightly against the edge of the pool.

I was alive. Holy crap, I was alive! I hadn't been sunk!

I tried to stand up, forgetting for a moment the bath dulled both the pain of my missing hand and the fact I was missing a foot. The splash was what one would expect from a 17 thousand ton battleship doing a faceplant, but I couldn't care! I was alive! I could get to see my friends! My family! Oh.

Oh God. My parents were going to kill me. It didn't matter if I had up to nearly a foot of armor. That wasn't going to stop them.

I sunk back into the water, leaving everything above my mouth exposed. Was it possible to stay here? Like, forever? They couldn't just barge their way in here, right? I wanted to see them, but, I was frightened. I was sure they were okay. They should have been taken to the bomb shelter, so they would be.

Did they know I was even here? Or where here was? I wanted to ask questions, but until my foot grew back, I figured I was stuck. For how long, exactly? I mean, I knew the basic functions of repair baths. Sit a wounded shipgirl in a tub and sometime later, they were healed. It was dependent on type too. Destroyers took less time to be repaired than say, capital ships such as battleships and carriers.

From my sulking position in the water, I looked around slowly, trying to find any indicator of how long I could stay before given the boot. My gaze crawled up a metal pole off to the side, before resting on a giant red number.

Five hours! I was stuck in here for five more hours!

I take back everything I just said. I wanted out! There was no way I could handle five hours of just sitting here without something to do. Give me a book or magazine to read! Hell, waterproof my game systems! Anything to save me from this boredom!

Sleep wasn't going to be an option either. An hour of jet lag was still an hour of jet lag, and I had no idea how long I was out for. Safe to say I wasn't going to be falling asleep for a bit.

A chuckle rang through the air, startlingly close as I whipped my head towards the source, only to see two hands letting go off the wall. There was a wet slap against the floor, followed by the tapping of two small feet, the sound getting further and further away.

Huh, I wonder what that was about. Probably a destroyer, I had to guess, wondering why part of the bathes had been blocked off. Harmless. Almost cute and childlike. Shy too boot.

"The grandma is up!" a childlike voice rang throughout the room, cutting through all the chatter.

Wait? What? Who was she talking about? Grandma? Who the hell was a Grandma! I was seventeen! Heck, if we counted my years of service, I would still be in my teenage years. She better not be referring to me!

There was a laugh that cut through the air. I couldn't quite place it, but it sounded familiar. That didn't sound particularly promising, regardless. I didn't like that laugh. Just rubbed me the wrong way.

A knock broke me out of my thoughts. Of course, this would have a door. Silly me.

"Kansas, are you awake?" a women's voice came from the other side.

"It's Kathrine, and yes, I am," I corrected. Even if people didn't get my name wrong as much now as they once did, it was still a bit of a sore spot for me. Something told me it was going to become a more frequent occurrence.

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"Mr. and Ms. Williams, please, sit down," he gestured towards the two seats in front of his desk. Both parents did so, but their expressions remained stormy.

"I'll cut right through the bullshit," the wife of the pair spoke first, just about ready to slam her hands against the table. "Where is our daughter?"

"Your daughter is currently in the repair baths, ma'am. She will join us once she has made a full recovery."

"And we should trust you, because?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I have no reason to lie to you. I'm more than willing to arrange for you to be taken to your daughter right this minute, if you so chose," that made them pause for a moment, sparing a glance between them.

"Fine then. I hope you can explain why our daughter was anywhere near that mess in the first place," it was the father who spoke next.

"Quite frankly, I don't know what Jefferson was thinking. However, I doubt he will be in his position for much longer," his words elicited an eye roll from both parents. "I'll be blunt. His actions nearly got your daughter, a newly awakened shipgirl, killed. I cannot stress how seriously the Navy takes such actions."

Shipgirls were not something to be trifled with. Even a destroyer, if properly motivated, could cause irreparable harm. The higher-ups? They weren't stupid, and even without Blood Week's causalities, shipgirls were by far the best answer to the Abyssal problem.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Which meant they had to be cared for, fed, refueled, and most importantly, treated with respect. A well maintained and cared for vessel tended to simply be better than a vessel neglected or otherwise abused. Shipgirls, at the end of the day, were very much the same. Except now they had other ways to show displeasure at their mistreatment.

Those who couldn't adapt to that simple fact tended to be slowly brought down the totem pole, little by little. Shipgirls were the best answer, and that gave them, and their thoughts, sway.

"Fine. Assuming we do trust you," the women's eyes narrowed. "What exactly is the plan moving forward here? Because if you're going to try and force our daughter to join up." She let the unspoken threat hang in the air for a moment.

"I will admit, Kathrine's case is a bit of an oddity. When it comes to most natural-born shipgirls, one can be reawakened, but at a similar cost to what it would take too summon a shipgirl normally. In most cases, if the shipgirl is underage, it is generally by contract that she will enlist at 18, with parental consent," he paused.

"Your daughter awoke due to stress, and given how things are going, I'm unlikely to get your consent for her to enlist in the first place. She cannot be forced to join the Navy, no more or less so than any other shipgirl," both parents seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

"However," both resumed their glaring, which he ignored. "That raises an entirely different set of issues. Kathrine is the reincarnation of a battleship, the USS Kansas. Your daughter now has an armor belt six to eleven inches thick, four twelve-inch guns, and numerous secondaries. She has enough firepower to inflict considerable damage to those around her, intentional or otherwise."

"And how would you intend to feed her? Most shipgirls have a voracious appetite as is. A capital ship? She will eat you out of house and home. Trivially, at that. I do understand why you don't trust the Navy after this, but there are things you need to be aware of. Ones that I'm certain you aren't prepared for."

"So you're going to hold our daughter's wellbeing over our heads, is that it?" it took everything he had to keep a straight face. He understood. They were mad, upset, and angry, with every right to be.

That wasn't making them any less frustrating to deal with. Especially when ultimately, he wasn't responsible for what happened.

They didn't notice it, but the door peaked open slightly. Dakota? He'd almost forgotten. He signaled for her to leave. Right now, what she had to say wasn't what they were going to like. Or even accept, for that matter.

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The door swung open with a click, and I was thankful my face was partially submerged. At least with that and the steam, she wouldn't notice my face turning as red as a beat. She was impossible not to recognize, even without her rigging. She dwarfed me easily, taller than even my aunt, rippling with muscle that unmistakably marked her as a battleship. Her face could be found both on television and on many recruitment posters.

But I'd recognize her even if I hadn't seen her there. I mean, how could I not? Even with my memory was fuzzy as it was, I still recognized her. South Dakota.

She saved my life. I wasn't going to forget that, even in my previous potentially concussed state. So, yeah, blushing out of embarrassment for being completely loopy was perfectly fine. And nearly getting myself killed.

Okay, that wasn't the only reason. But who could blame me! Older shipgirls looked like supermodels built so well that the entire island of Themyscira would go green with envy! Sure, one probably got used to being around them, but I'd been landlocked in Kansas for years. I've only seen pictures of shipgirls! I never thought I'd see one in person!

"You seem to be doing well," the Dakota slipped into the water, causing ripples that lapped at my nose.

"Depending on how you define well. You could call me stumpy right now," I wanted to gesture towards my arm and foot to drive the point home, but didn't. "And my parents are probably going to kill me, or ground me until the sun explodes or something."

"That seems unlikely. They both seemed quite adamant with their discussion with the Admiral," she rubbed her ear. "Or more accurately, shouting at the Admiral."

Wait, what? They were what! My head came to rest in my hand. Of course, they were shouting at the Admiral.

"How long?" I muttered through my fingers.

"A half-hour, at least. I didn't get to step in, at any rate," she nodded her head. "The Admiral had to subtly wave me out actually." She chuckled a chime-like sound that made me even happier about the shroud of steam.

"It sounds like they care about you a great deal, you know."

"I know. It's just that sometimes, they can be a bit, overbearing, is all. They want what's best for me and are probably scared out of their minds right now, but it's just, my future," my leg kicked at the water, sending small ripples across the water's surface. "I'd like to be able to have a say, is all."

"Given what has transpired, I can't blame you if you don't wish to sign up," I blinked, staring flabbergasted at the younger ship's words. Excuse me?

"No, I'd still want too," I huffed, crossing my arms. I wanted to join the Navy for years! Dropping out now? I was a shipgirl! There was no bigger way to make a difference like this! All I needed to do was show I was still able to fight!

"Besides, I set out myself. I'm willing to take responsibility for my actions," South Dakota let out a sound that could almost be mistaken for some type of hiss.

"That isn't entirely correct. I'm not sure how much you know about natural borns, like yourself, but unlike most, you waited to receive orders. Orders that were given, despite the fact you are present, not a member of any military branch. Yes, you could have ignored those orders, but you were likely just looking for an excuse to join the fight, rather than permission, correct?"

I paused. She wasn't wrong. I'd wanted to fight. At that moment, nothing was more important than going out there and proving I was capable! Nothing else mattered. I had to prove I had worth, as a vessel, as a ship.

"Most natural borns that awaken in the heat of the moment are like that. They don't tend to end up as outmatched as you did," I scowled at the remark. Did not need reminding of how I was bullied by planes, thank you very much!

"Relax. If the carrier hadn't been there you would have been fine," she chuckled at my expression. "They'll get some real anti-air guns on you soon enough."

That? That made me smile. An upgrade? Even if it was just replacing what I had, it would be nice. What else could they strap on me? I had to wonder.

"So, what about the guy," I paused, noticing the souring of Dakota's expression in an instant.

"He wasn't a good admiral," this time, it was her turn to scowl, an angry expression that I wasn't used to seeing on her face. "Don't worry, you won't be working under him. Ever." I scooted backward in the tub, unprepared for the vitriol in her voice. They had a history, it would seem, and it wasn't good.

"Which means my parents are taking their anger out on the wrong person, aren't they?" a simple nod from her left my head longing for the comfort of my palm.

"Our current Admiral is much better," her expression brightened. "He cares about all of us here. I don't know if you'll be stationed here, though. You're from where, exactly?"

"Kansas," I said, causing her to snort. What's so funny?

Oh. I'm the USS Kansas. And I live in Kansas.

My life is a joke. A massive, oversized joke. Someone's going to get punched for this! I don't know who, I don't know when, but it's coming!

"So, Dakota, how's the new grandparent!" a familiar voice shouted again, nearly taking the door clean off its hinges. My eye twitched. Today? Wasn't the greatest of days. So no. I wasn't going to take shit from some whippersnapper who wanted to throw shade.

"Already," I put my hand together with my stump, ignoring the pain coursing through it. "I'm down to a single leg, but I'm going to give you a three-second head start."

"What?" the silvery blonde shot me a puzzled look.

"One."

She blinked as I rose out of the water, balancing on one foot.

"Two."

She was beginning to move out the door.

"Three."

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"Sir, I know you don't want me to interrupt, but there's a situation down at the repair baths," one the secretaries popped her head in.

"What happened?" he asked, taking his mind momentarily off the two parents.

"Kansas woke up, about a half-hour ago, Sir. After having a conversation with South Dakota, Denver broke into the area, before calling Kansas 'Grandmother'," she said, likewise ignoring the two sending her death glares.

"And this is a disaster, why?" He resisted the urge to rub his temple in frustration.

"Because Kansas is currently chasing around Denver on a single leg while shouting that if she catches her, she's going to give Denver a whappin," she paused for a moment. "Whatever that is supposed to mean."

Well, that didn't take long. But regardless, Kansas being up was a good thing.

"Have South Dakota and any other battleship available help return Kansas to the bathes, and try to make sure she stays put. Tell Denver that once current matters have transpired to meet me in my office," he stood up, the secretary nodding her head.

"Where exactly do you think you're going?" At this point, he didn't care which one spoke.

"We're going to see your daughter, of course."