Eventually, I had to leave Denver alone and finish sitting in the repair bath.

No, it wasn't because South Dakota was stronger than me and I couldn't worm my way out of her grasp, of course not. That's completely ridiculous.

I let out a sigh as I lowered myself back into the steaming water. How did they get painkillers into this, anyway? Was this a shipgirl thing, or did they add something?

Another knock sounded at the door, before swinging open. The first thing I noticed was the man in a navy uniform. The second was.

"Mom! Dad!" I bolted upright, only to lose my balance once again, splashing facefirst into the water. Damnit foot! Regrow already!

"Sweety!" despite the fact I was in what amounted to a hot tub, mom hopped in, wrapping me in a massive hug. A hug I returned as gingerly and lightly as I could. It's not that I wasn't completely and utterly worried sick.

I was really, really concerned with not breaking her spine.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I quickly sunk my stump of a hand back underwater before she could notice it. Probably best if I didn't let her see that. She'd probably yell at the man I assumed was the Admiral of this base. Again.

"Mom, I'm fine," my eyes attempted to twitch into the water where my still missing hand was. "Mostly." She wrapped me in another squeeze, this time nearly around my neck.

"Are you sure?" I nodded. She was worried sick, after all. I could even see the faint begins of tears in her eyes. I didn't want to worry her even further.

"How much longer do you have to be in there for?" Oh, dad. Always trying to react reserved, but I could see the redness in your eyes. Your attempts at appearing angry were superficial sometimes. Regardless, I gestured towards the electronic timer near the bath. Unsurprisingly, it hadn't changed since my pursuit of Denver.

He didn't seem all that assumed by the fact I still had hours to go until I was fit to leave.

"Dad, I took an armor-piercing bomb to one of my primary turrets, and another to a propeller. Naturally, I'd be here for a bit," I tried to brush off the injuries as much as possible. The naval jargon may have flown my mom by, but I doubted it would work on dad. We used to watch that World War 2 naval documentary together. Back when the History Channel covered history.

I gently returned my mom's hug, before trying to get her out of the tub. It was full of water, and I didn't have the foggiest clue as to if our luggage survived. Her walking around in soggy clothes? We were in Florida, I think. That generally puts the humidity as near unbearable as is.

"On behalf of the navy, I would like to extend an apology for the events that have transpired," I blinked as the Admiral spoke for the first time. He seemed slightly, younger than I had expected. Okay, professional time. I'd already faceplanted in front of him, so I needed to make this count.

"Apology accepted, sir," I nodded respectfully. It was probably hard to look professional when in a bathing suit. Or laying down, for that matter, but I had a distinct feeling he didn't want me moving around anymore. Probably had something to do with South Dakota dragging me back here, now that I think about it.

I felt my mom shift awkwardly, clearly not agreeing with my statement.

"Apology not accepted," dad ground out. Please don't tell me they were still under the impression that he was the one that sent me out. Oh, who am I kidding, they probably were. I understood their anger, but it was completely misplaced!

"Dad, he wasn't the one who ordered me out there. Please calm down," I intended to defuse the situation. It would be completely embarrassing for my parents to start shouting at him. Here especially.

"Where did you hear that? Anyone here could be lying to cover his ass!" dad shot back, and scowled. Damnit, dad. You were getting too wound up right now. Fine. Did you want to get confrontational about this?

"South Dakota," I began to rise out of the water. "Who, by the way, sounded like she absolutely despised the man." I meet my dad's eyes with a dead even glare, completely unwavering.

"There was too much hatred in her voice to be anything else," I cut him off before he could get any more hot air into his system. Both of us were about to continue, preparing to ramp up into a full-blown shouting match, but a gasp from my mom distracted us.

Oh. Right. I'm standing up now. That means she can see my hand. Crap.

"Kathrine, as much as I appreciate you coming to my defense, you need to remain in the repair bath for it to be effective," I slunk back down into the water, now somewhat embarrassed with myself. Once there, my mom proceeded to cuddle with my head. I told her I was fine!

"As I'm certain South Dakota has informed you, we were discussing your future," I didn't need to look at my parents to know they were sending him murderous glares. "While you aren't eighteen yet, you're old enough to at least be part of this discussion."

Was he? Offering me a position? Right now? Yes! YES! YES! This is what I pushed myself for for five years!

"So you want me to join the Navy?" I asked, my eyes alight with wonder.

"No!"

"Absolutely not!"

Only to be brought down but the harsh shouts of dejection by my parents.

"Oh come on!" I shouted. "I've wanted to join the Navy since the war with the Abyssal's started! I'm a shipgirl now! How can you expect me to sit this out?"

"You nearly died! You know we didn't entirely approve of this in the first place! What makes you think we're going to approve of it now?" I'm pretty sure it was my mom who shouted back.

"I was on my own! That isn't going to happen again!" I shot back, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the admiral nod, though I doubt either of my parents noticed.

"Kathrine, you're also Kansas. How out of date you are is considerable," it was a bit strange to have my father attempt to be the voice of reason. "You don't even have proper anti-aircraft guns for World War 1, much less now."

"So? Replace them with newer models," I said, trying to calm down, before pausing. "And probably take out my three-inchers and put five-inch guns in their place, now that I think about it." There. Anti-air and firepower problems are solved.

"Unfortunately, it'd have to be more than that," it was the Admiral that cut my parents off. "On top of that, you need fire control, a functioning radar and radio systems, a complete internal overhaul for all the electronics and components. And if we're doing that much, we might as well replace your boilers, engine, and possibly your propeller while we're at it. Alongside enhancements to your armor overall including a torpedo belt, and even filling in your torpedo tubes."

I stared at him. I knew I was out of date, that much was obvious. I hadn't considered radios, which should be an obvious inclusion, but all that? Though I'd have to negotiate about the torpedoes. I kind of liked having them.

"It would be less of a refit and more of a complete rebuild."

"That sounds a bit expensive," oh, now you choose to listen to him! Dad wasn't wrong about that. That sounded considerably expensive. As in, could build a brand new ship expensive.

"Of course it would be expensive. It would also need to be done regardless, no matter how much some might groan about it," holy cow. He wasn't joking around about this. An old clunker like me getting this much? It warmed my heart. "The problem is that this base lacks the repair ship to make such drastic modifications, nor do I know if you'll stay at this base."

Damn! Still, that was better than nothing. I'd certainly take an eventual upgrade at any rate. Wait? Not stay? Why? I liked it here!

"Most of the time, if stationed at a base, a natural born's family either already lives close by, or is willing to move. Seeing as you come from Kansas," there was a pause like he was about to explain further, but we got it. Okay, yeah, that was a bit of a stinker.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"That's if we agree to enlist her, though. Which we do not," I scowled at her, mustering up the angriest glare I could manage. Oh, come on mom! What's wrong with you! The admiral let out a sigh.

"I would recommend you discuss this with your daughter later, both of you, before you come to a final decision," there was a look on his face I didn't like. He looked tired, or maybe, angry? Frustrated?

"However, if that is what you wish, there are some things that need to be talked about."

"Such as?" I raised an eyebrow cautiously. I wasn't going to like what he had to say, was I?

"What we have to do with your rigging," yep, I can already tell I wasn't going to like this in the slightest. "Due to the destructive firepower available to most shipgirls, most in the navy are trained to not summon it on accident. Both to prevent a panic, and also to stop misfires and other accidents from occurring."

Okay, that sounded reasonable, but I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"As such, letting a shipgirl go completely unaccounted for is a bad idea. As such, until your daughter is of age and can enlist without your permission, we have to separate her rigging from her. It's a modified version of scrapping."

I stopped processing information after that. His lips were moving, but I just didn't hear anything. The warm air of the bath faded away into frozen chills. Scrapping. A word that cut through my brain like a knife. No. Absolutely not. I was not going through that again. The nightmare that plagued my childhood finally made sense. I had been scrapped, torn apart, ripped to shreds, broken down, and sold for parts. Me and my sisters. It hurt. It had hurt so much.

"Kathrine. Kathrine!" my mom's shaking snapped me back. My face was wet. Had I started crying? "What's wrong?"

"No. Mom, just no," I was rocking back and forth, legs pressed against my chest. "I'm not going through that again. I refuse. I'd rather do anything but that!" Tears were streaming down my face now, and I couldn't even care.

"Katherine! Calm down!" I think my dad was panicking now.

"NO! It hurt so much! I was ripped and torn and gutted, parts of me being melted off! It's been haunting my nightmares as long as I remember! I won't go through it again! You can't make me!" I was sobbing, body wracked with phantom pains as I continued to rock back and forth.

"You can't make me," I quietly cried, ignoring any attempts my parents made to reach me.

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"So I assume you acquired permission?"

"Yes. Sadly, agreement to her to enlist was only given after I nearly caused her to have a panic attack," Jones shook his head. He knew scrapping tended to be a touchy subject when it came to shipgirls. Katherine's reaction?

It had blown anything he'd ever seen out of the water. Some shipgirls would have nightmares from time to time about their deaths, but this? From what he heard, Kansas had only recently come out of the repair bathes, staying in for over an hour longer than needed. Probably for food at worst, or giving in to the prodding of her family at best.

"That is worthy of note at least. With Kansas awakening, it wouldn't surprise me if we see the rest of her sisters soon. If they share trauma, it would be best to know about it ahead of time," the statement wasn't wrong. All Connecticut's were scrapped, so they might just share the same fears. Or worse, take to it violently.

"I'm uncertain about sending her into battle after that. If she reacts like that again, it could lead to devastating consequences."

"She has a psychologist presently. While I think this was an isolated incident, if necessary she could clear her."

"Very well. That point can be conceded for the time being if that is the case. The biggest issue is all the upgrades Kansas and the rest of the Connecticut's will need."

"Ultimately, it's worth it. Sure, they're old, but we've provided upgrades for vessels as old as South Carolina to keep them operational. Today's incident proved we cannot let defenses in the Atlantic cannot be let down."

"Agreed. Keeping them in port just uses money, and while we one of the largest shipgirl navies in the world, more hands available would be stupid to just throw aside. Given her guns are also twelve-inch, Kansas should be able to fire the superheavy shells."

"That's only a bandaid on the firepower issue. Kansas has half the twelve-inch guns as South Carolina."

"I might have a solution to that problem," Johns said, pouring over a combination of notes. "Or at the very least, a way to counterbalance it."

"Go on."

"Connecticut's have a considerable secondary complement. Eight eight-inch guns, 12-seven-inch guns, and if we replace all her three inches, twenty five-inch batteries. If these are more modern five inches, then those alone would match South Dakota in terms of volume. We can also upgrade her primary battery to mark seven, or even the eights used on Alaska. Similarly, replacing her current eight-inch guns with the larger fifty-five caliber ones found on most heavy cruisers could also be effective."

"This does sound more like you're building a completely new ship. However, I see the point. I'll send these ideas to repair ships and the engineering team, alongside the rest of your ideas. However, I will give you permission to get started, mostly when it comes to anti-air and those five-inch guns."

"Thank you, sir. Kansas will appreciate that," Jones nodded in respect.

"One further question, before this meeting is adjourned. Seeing as this family isn't local, do you have any knowledge about plans for accommodations?"

"Yes sir. They currently have two relatives serving in the Navy. Last I heard, they were communicating to see if they're willing to take Kansas on in the meantime."

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

"Hello?"

"Lucas? Is that you?"

"It better be. I was expecting you to call soon anyway," the younger man let out a dour chuckle.

"What do you mean, you were expecting us to call?" there was restraint in her voice, trying to keep it just below a shout.

"Well, for starters, Kathrine's face has been more or less plastered all over the internet. Someone managed to snag a picture of South Dakota dragging her into port," both parents winced. That was not something they wanted to see, but both knew that once they got back to Kansas, nobody was going to want to talk about anything else.

"Secondly, I kind of had a feeling that she was a shipgirl."

"What?" this time, voices weren't kept below shouting volume. "You didn't think about telling us sooner!"

"Spend enough time around shipgirls and you tend to get a feeling for them. Besides, I didn't know for certain, and what would you two have done with that knowledge, anyway?" both parents shuffled their feet. What exactly would they have done? Keep her from the truth, for starters. She was their daughter. They wanted to keep her safe.

More than a few things made sense now, in hindsight. The nightmares that sometimes bordered into the realms of night terrors, especially getting worse after Blood Week. Her sudden urge to join the Navy. Put together, it painted quite the clear picture.

They wanted to protect her, but. Well, that had caused her a lot of pain. Her, their only daughter. They had almost made her confront something beyond terrifying. Something that surpassed anything they could imagine in pain and suffering. It scared them.

"We were wondering if you could watch over Kathrine when she gets assigned to a base."

"You do realize that would mean she's assigned to the San Diego naval base, right? Shipgirl insanity capital of the world, right up there with the likes of Yokosuka?" a pause hung in the air. "Of course she can stay! The kids talked about seeing her again!"