I was just tired. Gone. Drained. Completely and without any amount of energy to care. Sure I ate, the grumbling of my stomach finally driving me out the repair bath and into the mess, but it was pretty much in silence. If someone talked to me, I don't even know if I responded. Hell, I don't think anyone sat near me, besides my parents and brother. But I just didn't care for their company.

By this point, I was ready to call it a day. Throw in the towel, get some rest, and be ready for tomorrow. Which is exactly what I ended up doing. After a brief escort to the room we were staying in, I just flopped onto the inflatable mattress and closed my eyes.

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Something felt warm. Pleasant. Nice.

There was a voice. It felt like was being wrapped in a hug. Several hugs. Ephemeral and light.

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Slowly, I began to stir, stretching out my limbs as sunbeams licked their way over my face, letting out a groan. My stomach let out a harsh rumble. Was it time to get up already? Another grumble sounded off. All right all right. I heard you the first time!

As my eyes began to open, I took stock of the room around me. Multiple bunks lined the walls, more than enough for all of us. Made me wonder why there was an air mattress in the first place. Still, they were all empty. What time was it exactly?

I reached for my pockets, only to remember that I hadn't changed last night, so I was still in the same dress. Great. So not only had I gone to sleep in dirty clothes, arguably, that meant my phone was missing … too?

Wait? Did this dress have pockets? A few moments of violent rustling procured a small device out of my pocket. Sweet! I'd have no idea what I'd do if I'd lost this. That was one problem solved, as I flipped to the clock.

Close to nine. A bit late, sure, but I could live with it. Food was first on the list of things my body wanted, but I didn't want to go out in unclean clothing. Tapping my foot as I thought, I spotted a small slip of white. I quickly grabbed it off the stand before reading it.

My eyes speed across the handwritten note. No way. No way. The plane cut in half and they still managed to recover our luggage! I mean, I'd expected everything in there to be a write-off, between the destruction and the gunfire. But I'll take having clothing. Finally, I can get into a pair of.

No. Absolutely not. Was this it? Was this SMSB that the internet kept talking about? Because instead of my combinations of jean shorts and t-shirts I'd packed for the warm Florida weather, I was meet by a variable sea of blue dresses.

If all my clothes had done this I was going to be beyond pissed! I took in a deep breath. Cloths could be replaced, this was no big deal. It took a few moments to replace the dress with a fresh one, but now came the handkerchief. When I'd awaken, it had been already tied.

This time, I'd have to do it myself. I glared at the piece of cloth for a moment. Part of me wanted to pitch the offending article of clothing into an incinerator. Reminded me far too much of a tie, to be frank, and those could go into an incinerator. The world would be a better place for it.

Ultimately, I consigned myself, beginning the arduous process of getting it properly tied into a knot and.

Oh my lord, this is actual witchcraft!

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Eggs? Check. Bacon? Check. Pancakes with copious amounts of butter? Check and check. Soon, my stomach shall be satiated. I plopped down in one of the many empty spots in the mess, placed my phone on the table, then began to inhale the mountain of food before me.

"You okay sis?" a voice interrupted my feeding frenzy, my head turning with a half-eaten pancake still partially hanging out of my mouth.

"Graff," I muttered, before swallowing the rest of the pancake. "Yes."

"Are you sure? You kind of seemed out of it last night," my younger brother gave me a look. One of those, you better not be trying to lie right now, sort of looks.

"I just needed some rest is all. Yesterday was a bit, rough," understatement of the century perhaps, but close enough. If he didn't have the full story, causing any more panic would be terrible. My phone let out a violent buzz, but I was more willing to return to my meal than worry about it. Texts could wait.

"That's good to hear," a familiar voice came from behind the pile of food before me. I popped my head from behind the piece of makeshift cover, grinning as my suspicions were confirmed.

"South Dakota!" I beamed at the younger but larger battleship as she sat directly across from my position.

"Kathrine, I'm glad to hear you're feeling better after last night," she smiled back, though her eyes flickered to my phone as it vibrated once again. I avoided sending the piece of technology a glare. It could, in fact, wait.

"Much better. Sleep helped," my smile turned a bit melancholic. I'd dreamed last night, hadn't I? I could only remember something warm and comforting.

Another vigorous vibration broke me out of my thoughts, and this time I did glare at the device. Before it just began to vibrate more and more, until it was about to fall off the table.

"Someone seems popular this morning," South Dakota had a slight smirk on her face. Okay yeah, I can't ignore this.

"Sorry, this usually doesn't happen," I stammered, a slight flush to my cheeks. Okay, what was going on, and what was so important that it was about to knock my phone off the table! I began flipping through each text, my confusion growing swiftly.

"She's not wrong you know," normally, I would fire back at my brother's sass, but I was preoccupied. Okay, just what was going on here? Well wishes were nice, especially after yesterday. But why? Sure, the word could have gotten out about the airplane being forced to the ground and that's what they were worried about. Though that would require one of my friends being able to track the flight, find out what happened, then told everyone else. In that case, fair enough.

I began to chew lightly on the inside of my lip. That wasn't as unlikely as I'd care to admit. Between Jacob and Keith, it was possible. I mean, I didn't think they'd do something as potentially stupid as that, but Kieth could be, impulsive. The weight pressing down on the bottom of my gut was a sign that wasn't the case.

Another text came in, and I barely avoided letting mortified strangling noise heat skyrocketing across my face.

"Are you alright?" Joseph and Dakota asked nearly at once.

"Yeah, it's just Keith being Keith," South Dakota raised an eyebrow at my proclamation, while Joseph just nodded his head. Come on, really? Keith, you really need to start thinking before you say things. Because saying 'how does it feel getting carried into port by a bronze amazon before mentioning anything else?

After sending a flurry of 'I'm fine, thanks for asking', one being particularly snide aimed at Keith, I finally put down my phone.

"I don't mean to pry, but what was that all about?" Dakota's face was now marred with a frown.

I sighed, "Just a few friends sending get well soon and best wishes. Nothing major."

That only made her frown grow, and just as she was about to open her mouth, my phone once again started its merry little dance. This time, she was the one to send a glare, as I rolled my eyes. I blinked. Then I pinched myself. No, this wasn't still a dream. But this? This was crazy.

"I just got a text from the governor of Kansas."

Joseph stared at me, jaw starting to slack open. South Dakota was in a similar state of shock, though appeared to recover faster.

"Kidd! Remote! Now!" she shouted towards another end of the nearly empty mess, with a few seconds later a black remote tumbling through the air. South Dakota grabbed it mid-spin, plucking it out of the air with ease, before hitting one of the buttons near the top.

One of the televisions flared to life, taking me slightly by surprise. After a flicker and a stutter, the picture finally cleared, a news anchor speaking.

"Continuing from our top story yesterday, of the unknown shipgirl brought back into port by South Dakota, Washington, and their escorts," I was more interested in the picture on the screen. You couldn't make out much of my face, but it was undeniably me. I hadn't felt good after the bombs and the gunfire, but I didn't know I looked that bad.

The picture had been taken at a distance, but I could easily track the numerous cuts and burns from shells, turning most of my arms and visible chest into a scared blackened mass. Which was on display for just about everyone to see as I was carried between the two battleships, each locking my arm in place over their shoulders as I was dragged along. Then there were my two stumpy limbs. My foot was in the state I'd expected, but my hand? It had taken off more than just a part of my hand. A significant portion of my arm was gone like it ever existed at all. Everything below the elbow? Poof, gone.

"Damn," my brother's face had turned to the screen, seeming to struggle for words. Me looking like shit would be the most appropriate phrase. Maybe a bit lacking in tact, but accurate.

"I felt bad, but I didn't know I looked at awful," I muttered, though everyone around could still pick up what I said perfectly.

"To be fair, I've seen worse cases. But you weren't in good shape by any stretch of the imagination," Dakota's face did a weird thing, something between a shrug and a scowl? I couldn't quite describe it.

Joseph's head whipped between the two of us rapidly. "I'm not sure how that's supposed to get worse than that! Kathrine, I know your pain tolerance can alone be described with the word bullshit after the time you broke your tailbone, but this is insane!"

"While the identity of this new shipgirl remains unknown at this time, anonymous sources on the internet claim she is Kathrine Williams, from the state of Kansas."

At that moment, the table nearly shattered under South Dakota's grip, cracks spiderwebbing across the metal. Joseph, bless his heart, feel completely out of his seat as I barely managed to rescue my phone and unfinished meal. Still not done eating, even if that was likely going to be sufficiently delayed.

"This should be taken with a grain of salt however as it is only a rumor," whatever else they had to say, I just ignored it. In part because Dakota was now breathing in and out quite heavily. Maybe some type of breathing exercise?

It was becoming apparent that someone, somewhere, had done something beyond stupid. I'm not sure what laws and protocols were being broken here, but it probably a significant number.

"Any idea who could have released such information?" South Dakota appeared to be trying her best to keep the anger out of her voice but was failing.

"Don't look at me. I don't have a computer and it sounded like saying anything about this right now was ill-advised," Joseph raised his hands in surrender, as I frowned. Keith was impulsive. Incredibly so. But I doubted he could be that impulsive. And stupid. He would have lead with something like 'how does it feel to be a ship?' or something dumb like that. Quite frankly, nobody else was that particle combination, either, so. Yeah.

"I got nothing," I shrugged. Still, it had to be someone. Problems didn't just spawn out of the aether!

"Well, it could be," Joseph started, and I could almost see the wicked lightbulb blinking above his head.

"No. Absolutely not. I refuse to accept that," I crossed my arms, sending him the strongest glare I could muster.

"But the two of you are so cute together!" he cackled, eyes twinkling.

"I gave him a complex after I broke his nose!" I fired back.

"Didn't he ask to the prom, like what? Three times?" Joseph teased, teased! Me, a battleship! I'd get him for this. "You looked like you were about to kick him in the balls!"

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"The world would have thanked me. Because yes, as it turns out, people don't like dating douches, who would have thought," I scowled, crossing my arms.

"Pardon me, but who exactly are you talking about," South Dakota looked between the two of us.

"Jeff."

"Jefferson."

South Dakota looked between the two of us as if she was expecting more information. I thought, okay, yeah. She wouldn't know.

"He's a bully who never quite grew up and got a bit attached when I broke his nose. He's an asshole. There's not much more to tell," I scowled. That wasn't everything. But quite frankly, saying I'd had to put up with two lifetimes of his crap wouldn't make sense under normal circumstances.

"Yeah. From what I heard, it started with dunking your head underwater, then escalated with you breaking his nose," Joseph's words caused South Dakota to flinch.

"I can see why you don't like him," she nodded. "Still that's not much to go off of, assuming he leaked the information at all. Which might be the case."

"Yeah. Joseph, we both know he's not the sharpest tool in the shed. I doubt he's behind something like this," I frowned, as Joeseph let out a snort of amusement.

"Hey, I'm the idea guy," he placed his arms behind his head. My eyes couldn't be rolling harder. What was your grade point average again?

"Regardless, I should probably inform the Admiral of this, provided he doesn't already know," South Dakota began to stand up, before pausing. "Oh, and Kathrine?"

I looked back up at her, about to return to my shoveling of food into my gullet. "Yes?"

"The Admiral would like to see you once you've finished with breakfast."

"Yes Ma'am," I nodded, sending her a grin. I'd head that way the moment I finished. Maybe with a stop to clean up my face. Probably to clean up my face. I waited for her to exit the mess before I began stuffing food back into my mouth. Hey, it was slightly cooler now, but bacon was still bacon. And bacon was good.

"Are you seriously going to eat all of that?"

"I'mf hngy! Dn jdg me!"

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There were simply moments in life where one just wanted to put their heads through a wall. Certainly not the healthiest of impulses, to be sure. He thought he'd managed to at least stop the fan from being bogged down with all sorts of waste. But no. This was beginning to look like one of those situations. The one where you see the light at the end of the tunnel and expect sunlight. Instead, it's a train and it's heading right for you.

Well, the cat was out of the bag now, and someone else had already found it. Sure, most news networks acted like this wasn't confirmed information, but with so many winks and nudges, it didn't matter. Quite frankly, he had no idea what would happen for releasing that information. Releasing information like that during wartime. Sure, in Kansas there likely weren't issue, but there had been attacks made by deranged individuals in the past.

Sure, a new shipgirl joining the fray was good for PR, under normal circumstances. However, Kathrine was introduced to the world looking like she just lost a fight. On top of being underage. She never should have been near that fight at all.

"Admiral Kenneth," South Dakota interrupted his thoughts, resulting in him turning around to face her. She paused for a moment. "I'm going to assume you've heard the news?"

"Yes. I'm safe to guess that Kathrine is presently aware of this development?" South Dakota nodded. Okay, that wasn't awful. Maybe. Public relations was not his specialty by any means. "And how is she doing this morning?"

"She's acting a lot better," South Dakota nodded, as he let out a sigh of relief. "I made sure to deliver your message as well, Sir. Katherine should be here once she is done eating."

"That's good to hear," after last night, that was good news indeed. On both fronts. Food was necessary for a growing battleship, after all.

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I had taken a momentary detour to brush my teeth. There was no sense in showing the Admiral my pancake stained teeth. Plus, I hadn't done it last night, either. No sense in showering him in my bad breath, either. But once I finished, I quickly made my way to the office.

"You must be Kathrine," there was a lady behind one of the desks.

"Yes? I blinked, being taken aback slightly. I didn't know he had a divided office like this.

"You can go right in. Admiral Kenneth has been expecting you."

Oh, so that was his name.

"Thank you, ma'am," I nodded, before stepping towards the massive doors. They looked pretty heavy. I gripped the knob, swinging it open. There were a groan and a pop as the door swung open.

Now I'm holding the door. I'm holding the oh.

"I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry," my words slurred together into a single sentence. What do I do? How do I fix this?

"Kathrine, it's quite fine. It's designed to do that. Just leave it against the frame for the time being."

Oh. I blushed, looking down at my feet. This was a lot worse than the time I tour off one of the cabinet doors at home during my first life. Designed that way or not.

"Please, take a seat," he gestured towards the empty chair between both my parents, who were now staring at me, slack-jawed.

"Yes sir," I moved into the middle chair, one that appeared to have a metal frame.

"You don't need to call me sir," he chuckled. "You aren't quite enlisted yet." I blinked. This wasn't what I had expected.

"Yes, Admiral," I responded, with a slight grin of my own. He raised an eyebrow, almost a sort of well played. A distinctive short reached my ears a moment later.

"Before we continue," Admiral Kenneth's expression went from more upbeat to something sour. "Kathrine, I would like to extend my humblest apologies for what I said last night. It is something I know some shipgirls have a hard time with, and I wasn't thinking." A chill ran down my spine. The memories had become a lot more vivid, but I shoved them aside. That was the past. It wasn't going to happen again.

"Apology accepted, Admiral, I just needed a good night's rest is all," I met his gaze as he spent a moment, studying my expression, before nodding.

"Very well. As I was telling your parents, one of the things a shipgirl must contend with is their strength," his none too subtle gesture to the door brings out another flush of heat. "A shipgirl can do anything a ship is capable of, while in a human body. What a ship could tow, a shipgirl can move the same amount of weight, alongside supporting their own."

"Wait. Does that mean our daughter?" my dad raised an eyebrow.

"Likely currently weights around eighteen thousand tons?"

The statement hung in the air. Alright. That sounded like pure magical crap right there. But strangely, it made sense? I mean, I was a ship now. But that would raise some serious complications when it came to travel. I don't think many planes, on top of their regular load, could carry that much additional weight.

"Then how is that chair supporting her?" on that note, excellent question mom. Why was this chair able to hold all that weight?

"One of the repair ships designed it to support new shipgirl's who can't control their displacement without going through hundreds of chairs a week. It doesn't work for some of the larger battleships, but," yeah yeah, I get it. Puny pre-dreadnaught over here. Oh well. I'll take being able to sit down.

"So, I'm able to control my weight?" I paused, turning my head slightly.

"It's more akin to flipping between human and ship than anything one can manipulate," I nodded, rubbing my hand under my chin, stroking a non-existent beard. Okay, again, that made sense. Redeploying shipgirls would become a monstrous hassle, otherwise. There was still the Panama canal, but why spend the effort when you can just put someone on a plane?

"We'll be working on that in the coming days. You are here on vacation after all, and even if you can't be there for all of it, you deserve some time off. Before you're officially enlisted, of course."

I nodded my head in thanks. Sure, I was going to need new clothes, because walking around in my shipgirl clothes off duty would feel a bit weird.

"Second is that other Admirals have approved work to start on a retrofit design," his words were music to my ears, a grin twitching its way to life across my face. A weight pressed against my back, my father, seemingly quite pleased. "However, a proper design will take time, and even if one were to be rapidly developed, I lack the resources and technicians to perform such an operation at this base."

That's the problem? I hadn't expected an immediate miracle on that front. Designing a retrofit for a ship that never had a major one, let alone one that would allow me to fight? It would take time, and I was fine with that.

"On that front, I do have some good news. It might not be much, but I currently have permission to replace some of your armaments."

"Really?" I blinked, sounding quite a bit too good to be true. Wouldn't that make more sense to include as part of the retrofit? I mean, I wouldn't say no to having guns that worked against planes, but still.

"Quite. With your parent's permission, we can get started immediately."

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Perfectly honest, there were quite a few things that never quite made sense to me. Repair ships could upgrade and apply retrofits to shipgirls, that made sense. However, given the size of each fleet, there clearly weren't enough repair ships to go around. Even if the United States had summoned every single one, a doubtful prospect, that would put our Navy at around twenty or so, depending on how one counted.

With everyone else being worse off. Britain had maybe a dozen, maximum. Even Japan, with their single Akashi, beat out several other navy's, including Germany. Which meant someone, somewhere, had to figure out a way to perform such critical work, without relying on a repair ship.

Naturally, this was a fiercely debated topic on the internet, to nobody's surprise. I'd heard all sorts of insane conspiracies, from kidnapping Abyssal equivalents, holding them hostage and forcing them to do the work, which sounded just as stupid as it was, to all the way to somehow turning fairies into humans.

While a bit more hush hush than one might expect, the answer was straightforward, simple, and boring. Shipgirl magic, and precision tools. That's it. It was almost disappointing after all that hype. But I couldn't complain too much.

I winced slightly. Okay, maybe I could complain a little. Popping some pain medicine before they started work sounded like a good idea. And it was. But it either hadn't kicked in yet or wasn't doing its job. Given how it had been an hour, it was probably the latter of the two.

"And there we go," one of the engineers said, placing the last of the new five inch-guns into its proper place, anchoring itself to my hull. A few heys singled out from my crew, staring at the new weapons with stars in their eyes.

Hey! No! I see you there! Read the manual before messing around with the bofor, mister! Don't try pointing it around!

I chuckled. Despite my childing them, I could understand my crew's excitement. Sure, most of the bofors were doubles, rather than quads, but the five-inch guns? Dual purpose, good for ship to ship combat and driving away air attacks. Now I wasn't a complete sitting duck to any carrier with a brain cell and a pulse.

"You seem quite pleased, Kathrine," there was a slight curve to Admiral Kenneth's mouth. Not quite a grin.

"Quite, Admiral," I returned, beaming. My feet shifted below me. It was a familiar feeling. Like before, on the beach. I wanted to fight. Take these new guns out and see what they could do! Let's go!

"Very well. I think a systems test is in order. And I can think of the perfect place to practice."