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The Razgriz Air Command Squadron, more commonly referred to as Razgriz Squadron and also known as 'The Ghosts of Razgriz', was. Advertising mine and DeSynchronizer's Girls Last Tour patch with a cosplay I whipped. New Years sale happening now. Hello my friends, Here you can find what I'm up to and what my next drawing will be about.
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Click to expand.I am now imagining Kestrel brought up to the kinds of specs her daughter/little sister will be in AC7 (assuming the Kestrel II is a carrier), considering Strangereal's insanity and real-life's advances in the last decade and a half to give inspiration to Project Aces. The EMALS can lift out of the deck and function as heavy railguns! The CIWS R2-D2s are mobile and can concentrate on threat vectors! The SAMs have been replaces with the multi-purpose god missiles Strangereal uses for everything, that have enough tracking to shoot down a supermaneuverable plane (if you're lucky), but enough explosive yield to do a number on a bunker - she can sink Abyssal battleships with them, and has the ammo magazines you'd expect from a Strangereal ship! Her phased radar array can be used as a Directed Energy Weapon! Her planes can mount all the modular lasers and railguns and other nonsense that Osea and Erusea will be plugging into their planes!
AC7 has a space elevator and is set only two decades before AC3, which had all sorts of futuretech - including a cloaking ever-flying mothership for a stealth fighter - let's mount a prototype cloaking device on the aircaft carrier! It's too bulky, heavy, and power-consuming to put on anything that flies yet, but all we have to do is divert some of the power from the third reactor we installed in the 2018 refit, and it'll be fine!meanwhile Oyodo is headdesking so hard, because how the hell are they supposed to pay for this refit!? Jet fuel is just kerosene with additives, nothing more, nothing less.
It's far simpler to refine and produce than avgas since it doesn't require nearly the amount of processing, is far less flammable, and is thus cheaper and easier to handle. She might need a large amount of food, but not nearly as much as people fear as she'll get far more 'bang' for each calorie consumed. Once she reconstitutes her air group her relative food consumption will go down even more since modern aircraft actually require fewer net man hours of maintenance than older ones despite being far larger and more complex.
One of the benefits of solid-state digital vrs analog systems, plus jet engines are actually mechanically simpler than high-power piston engines. I have a feeling that Ooyoda will be pleasantly surprised at how much less of an impact Kestrel will have on her supplies than she expects. Click to expand.Actually, a nuke reactor's fuel cells are good for at least 25 years. That should offset some of her likely voracious appetite. I served on CVN-72 USS Abraham Lincoln, a late model Nimitz-Class Carrier as well as the Kitty Hawk-Class USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63. She was that last of her kind back when I served aboard her during Iraqi Freedom because after that cruise, her sister the Constellation was decommed. I also attended The Kitty's decomm ceremony.
Many a manly tear had been shed. She really was a good ship.
Forgot to add.I would love to see the ol' gal in Kanmusu form, but I lack the artistic chops to make it happen beyond stick figures. The Ghost of Razgriz Omake Told You Once - Some days, the superstition that certain ships were lucky or not was reinforced by collective belief after a mission with disastrous outcomes. Sometimes when things went well it was overlooked.
Maybe everything really was fair in the end. Maybe it was already decided, like some power above favoring them that day.
Today, Kestrel decided she would be the pebble to stop a landslide. Today, she decided to be the drop of water to save a life. When Kestrel returned from an operation to break a blockade around the strategic Hall islands - said blockade standing to sever the supply line curving south along the eastward span between Guam and Wake - she was met with the unexpected pleasure of awed stares, and not because of her more modern equipment! Much glad to be rid of that particular tidbit in the early days here. Did these girls really have nothing to do other than gawk at the equipment of a mercenary supercarrier? In any case, her escorts for the mission had been the cause of the stares. Or rather, the rumours and scuttlebutt surrounding them.
Though all recognized the precedence of the battleship girls Fusou and Yamashiro that made up the command core of the fleet in order and standing, all of them did end up deferring back to the Hubert-class on several accounts. It had honestly felt good, to be relied on. Kestrel quietly smiled the entire time they had steamed down along the clear, calm seas of the Pacific. They'd passed beautiful islands and some of her felt a little homesick - the beaches were near identical to Sand Island. Shoukaku was her partner carrier for the mission.
Air cover was vital, as the blockade-breaking fleet had split into three simply to find the zippy Abyssal picket group. She was prompt in getting the local-model A6Ms up and running, as well; while scanning and burning through the Abyssal haze – which was not helped by the evening thermals - to get solid radar locks, Kestrel had been caught completely flat-footed by the sudden appearance of Abyssal bombers that flew high up and dropped scads of hundred-pound bombs on her deck! Mutsu, the 'heavy strike element' to the paired Fusou-classes, showed the fruit of her second remodel by putting up impressive amounts of AAA fire which battered and scattered the Abyssal formation. Just in time for the streamers of Kestrel's CIWS systems to shred a good portion of the remainders.
It was good to have five shells between every visible tracer. As soon as the fleet - reported by the lead of the 'assault and reconnaisance' team, Shigure - made contact with the enemy, Kestrel's Tomcats had managed to return to visual range in time to support the strikes. Two cruisers and a destroyer were torpedoed out of commission by two good spreads on the part of Yamakaze. A well placed discharge of depth charges by the same destroyer confirmably knocked an Abyssal sub out of commission as Takanami and Sagiri expertly conducted ASW under the guidance of Kestrel and her newest addition, the Sea Goblin helicopter unit. As light began to fail, six merchant vessels guarded by four destroyers and two cruisers were spotted. The timely-arriving Wardog flight, roaring in from bearing 304 west-northwest, were quick to put twin 500lb bombs apiece on each of the destroyer - and as Shoukaku's B5N torpedo-bombers set about sinking the logistical targets, all three battleships made the night roar with naval rifle fire, quickly putting the heavier elements to rest in the sandbars below them. Blaze did a close fly-by of the more intact one, scattering a flock of bats at 1500 feet.
Now the second half of the battle was waiting for the Philippene Special Warfare Group, inbound by parachute drop from 12,500 feet to retake the naval operations base. That in turn would speed up the next stage of things, which was a convoy of Chinese fuel tankers being given the go-ahead to steam northward from Port Moresby, under guard by a fleet of Philippene cutters. That fleet as well was backed up by the shipgirl Perth at flank with a small detachment of the Australian Navy. Much firepower for one convoy, but that hydrocarbon crude was desperately needed - and a prime target for ambush. Hoping the Abyss wouldn't send reinforcements to the ruins of the crushed blockade went out the window as soon as flashes in the night, 130mm naval rifle discharge, prompted a call to scatter. Mutsu and Kestrel, the latter tracking down the origin of the shots, built up power to move as quickly as they could – meaning sluggishly – from zero knots while half a kilometre westward, the cruisers Mikuma and Suzuya began saturating the co-ordinates Kestrel relayed to them with HE. Shoukaku and Kestrel's combined air wings - the Hubert-class's contribution bereft of the weapons-dry Wardog - reached the area to wonderful effect, with the enemy anti-air too sparse and too light to put any sizeable dent into the massed strike.
Six Zeroes lost in exchange for six destroyers sunk was a good trade. As the Naval Facility on the atoll was manned, restored and began to fire on the remaining Abyssal targets with its radar-guided and distance-eating HESH batteries, the battle was all but won.
The girls returned home safe the next morning, waved off by a crowd of cheering sailors split between Chinese and Philippene groups – recognizing war efforts was universal, it seemed. For the most part, there was relief across the board when they steamed back into Yokosuka. Except for the few. The usual hardliners who more thoroughly adhered to the mindsets of history. Kestrel couldn’t really find much ground to blame them, either. But at the end of the day, Kestrel simply had to put her foot down.
And aside all the affront in having the mercenary, new to this base and this theatre of war - and the very method of operations where naval vessels were people now - selecting her own lineup was a heavy gesture of trust from the Admiral. It wasn’t missed that such things – tests of capability and leadership – were usually done in recognition of a potential promotion for a new commanding officer. So when Ise got done with her own well, none could quite call it a tirade.
But as the phrase “Did you select that lineup deliberately?!” was voiced, Kestrel’s girded herself and set her mind. “Yes.” For a small moment, the old-fashioned Aviation Battleship was visibly at a loss for words, with an intense set to her gaze that pierced distance and time. Shigure, unspoken thus far and intending to query on this very issue, who had followed Kestrel with soft drink in hand, watched on owlishly.
“It doesn’t work that way.” Sounded Ise’s serene statement, though her body language – loosely at attention, not quite leaning on the bar table they were situated next to. With the next breath, she audibly built up steam. “You can’t simply balance out luck in that manner. No matter however much you may bring, it does not equalize like grain balancing stones on a scale!” “Look at her!” Ise pointed at Shigure in the manner of delivering irrefutable proof in an argument, who winced. Said allusion completely soaring over Kestrel’s comprehension, the Hubert-class not knowing of it.
“ what am I looking for?” “You don’t know? Ah, you are new - it would be as such. I apologize.” Sitting down, Ise drew something out of the folds of her off-duty coat.
A flat rectangular panel of creamy wood, it looked vaguely like an Ouja board, though the usual stylizations of the alphabet were replaced with a circular diagrams, flanked by painstakingly detailled kanji in golden paint embossed across it. The item being laid flat on a table, and small parts expertly taken out, seemed to seep weariness into Shigure. While Ise worked to set it all up, Haguro sidled up to deposit a tray of lightly fried fish fillets, recognizing important events unfolding. The other two shipgirls present were certain they had missed something, for at some point a fuzzy sensation caused them both to fall into dozes.
Tiredness snapped up momentarily in them. When they shook off the brief disorientation backed up by the distinct sense of having lost time to unconsciousness, Kestrel blinked. Right in front of her, protruding up from that small wooden panel, was a roulette wheel. And as she looked more, she saw stacks of what could’ve been a modified Go set, and two ten-sided dice, and a small rack with tiny bowls of powder in them. “I shall explain. We – the fleets of Japan – have observed since the beginning of our present circumstance that there is a force additional to what can be expressed by physical means.” “Fortune, luck, divine favor, it has been alluded to many things.” Ise continued, the delivery flowing easily from oft-repetition.
“The perception of us as we had been in our previous lives has shaped us.” “Mutsu, the second of the Nagato-class? She had been sunk at port, away from combat, from raging fires. Several of the destroyers you selected had been sunk at similar extreme circumstances. The Fusou sisters were devastated by a force many times their inferior, by misfortune in their positioning.” “And Shigure-” “I steal it.” Shigure piped up, smiling sadly. “Every fleet I’m in comes back wrecked except for me. I’m the luck vampire.” Discomfort entered Ise’s expression.
“I do not mean ill will. I simply speak of what is.” Rattled as Kestrel may have been from that display of unreality, she was well together enough to press on.
“This is legit?” “Superstition ceased being irrelevant when sorties could be measured by this method.” Ise stated. Making minute adjustments across the entire set before picking up the ten-sided dice, she rolled them first on the wheel just as Shigure put her hand into the wooden bowl of powder. One second the dice was rolling, then in the next both die and the wheel had stopped on 17, with no hint of having slowed down from momentum. “Improvement.” The aviation battleship stated, nodding approvingly. “And your remodel’s coming up, isn’t it?” Shigure perked up at that.
“Right on Christmas!” “Yeah. So what, are these numbers kept track of?” Kestrel asked, reeling.
Ise’s response was simply to pull out a sleek black smartphone and open it to an application showing a square-grid notebook. Destroyers had ten pages, cruisers had three while carriers, battleships and submarines were on one apiece.
Each reading beside the ship’s name had the measurement date listed next to the two-digit number. “Mutsu is at six.
Fusou and Yamashiro both at five. Yamakaze also at six. Takanami is at eight, Sagiri also. Mikuma has five, and Suzuya has seven.” Ise stated, while Kestrel looked through the pages, with the rest of the fleet’s numbers displayed. Startling was the picture built - the other girls came back as they did, in missions prior.
The matter of fortune was no joke A pregnant pause bode the Osean to look up at Ise’s calm, hard-eyed stare. Kestrel felt like there was a humidity spike in her lower deck aircon. “How did you do it?” “well.” How did it happen? “A whole lot of work was done by these girls to cover me, actually.
Everything happened quicker, and at closer ranges than what I’m used to” Ise didn’t need to say anything to stop that line being fed. Finally, Kestrel sighed. “Look, I don’t mean to burn any bridges here. But this is the first I’m hearing of all this – when I first came into the base, all I saw was a bunch of girls being shunned.
I memorized their names, and when it came to my pick for a fleet I thought the whole lineup didn’t look too bad for a blockade-breaker. Thought I’d show what I could do and give these girls a helping hand in the same shot.” Kestrel had stopped for breath, but the sudden radar report of a very close surface contact bode her to look to that direction and see Shigure hugging her torso with the biggest smile on her face.
“Conspicuous to select all of the cursed ones.” A ghost of a knowing smirk crept up on the aviation battleship. “Hey, I could’ve broken the blockade on my lonesome. But how better off would the rest of them be, cooped up at base?” Ise clapped her on the shoulder – dropping the issue without a word. “You’re like the Americans. See someone in need and don’t even think of not helping.” “To be fair-” Kestrel said as her grin broadened in direct proportion to how much tighter Shigure hugged. The supercarrier put an arm around her in kind. “Defying the odds in pursuit of excellence is a long-standing Osean tradition.” “That much is clear!” With the table resounding with laughter, barmaid Haguro brought out the main course of the dinner they came here for.
A thought entered Kestrel’s mind. “Hey, while this setup is out, mind if we get my own reading?” Ise paused. The look on her face, paired with a wondering smile, was that of someone who wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. “A ship from another world has never been measured.
Let us break new ground!” Kestrel put her hand in a different bowl of powder – made out of a sleek, shining kind of stone, reserved for Carriers. At the end of the ordeal, three six-sided dice bounced upward to the very centerpoint of the spindle’s top, the resulting stack unaffected by the roulette wheel’s continued motion.
As the night came on, people arriving and talking broke up the disturbed silence that permeated over the table, the three eventually calmed down as humanity was restored into the bar. The second of many trays carrying plates laden with seafood arrived. Several of the people nodded in recognition, or waved a hello to them. Especially so did the ones of the taskforce sortied just yesterday. The three may or may not have been brittle in their responses, but mellowed out as more food came out, and with distractions came an easier time of forcing the sight of Kestrel’s luck reading out of their heads. In the background, Naka was having a base technician set up the mic sets so the bar’s small stage could serve for karaoke night.
“Hey, you know what’s funny?” Kestrel suddenly asked. The comment caused Ise, Shigure, and recent arrivals Hyuuga, Mutsu, Nagato and Yuudachi to look up from their meals.
“ That-” Kestrel traded meaningful glances with Ise, over the noise of the rest of the bar patrons cheering and clapping politely. “Reminded me of a thing from home. Old song about two ace pilots. Just” Those that weren’t there for the event in question were politely quizzical. The two that were silent, smiling forlornly, just waiting for the shoe to drop. Kestrel took a breath and- “What’s that I hear?!” interjected Naka from the stage, interrupting the impending awkward explanation by hamming it up for her buzzing bar patrons.
“Someone wants to go first? Okay!” “Kestrel, come on up!” All eyes turned to the Hubert-class. The newer arrivals that hadn’t seen her Luck stat gave various encouragements. And Yuudachi said she’d give her the best poi she could muster. The two that who had seen were silent, their gazes piercing distance and distraction to lock onto Kestrel like that of the samurai.
Shigure had a smile that might have been smug had she crinkled her eyes just so. Ise was expressionless. Her stance suggested the unspoken query. Kestrel sat there for a moment, stewing, as a lesson learned of the fundamentals of the world continued to seep into her very soul.
Precisely three seconds of cheering since Naka called her, Kestrel stood, fighting down the incandescent rage that arose as an outcome of that lesson. What the hell was she doing, talking the talk about defying odds and superstition and excellence when she was scared by numbers? Those numbers impacted entire sorties? Some girls were just cursed from birth, facing harshness not by choice but simply for the crime of existing?! The profanities invisibly swallowed by Kestrel as she smiled politely to the idol of the fleet outnumbered the steel grains that were component to every plate, rivet, beam and panel of her hull. “Thank you.” Kestrel began, to loud cheers. “How’s everyone tonight?” A dull roar came up as the full bar’s raised glasses and cups to toast her.
Kestrel grinned. “I’ll sing a song alright, I’ll sing one good. Now, it’s pretty pervasive across my home country, but I caught something similar on the airwaves here as well!” Blinks and murmurs – were some things truly universal? “It’s an old song, dating back to the gunslinger days.” Kestrel said, walking on over to Naka and the base technician manning the music terminal. As she stated the song’s name outside the range of the mic, the base technician typed down the words by reflex before his brain could fully process them. 'I’ll sing a” As she glanced through and found the most popular version to be near identical to that of Osea’s, Kestrel was over the moon.
The supercarrier walked back into the spotlight and turned, confidence surging as she steeled herself – metaphorically – to kick the entire Luck debacle in the taco. “The Demon Lord went to Stonehedge, he was looking for an ace to kill,” Kestrel opened weaker than she would have liked – but if anything bolstered her courage, it was the wait-a-second expressions on the whole bar’s faces.
“He was in a bind, he was way behind, willing to shoot to thrill,” About half the bar whooped in appreciation of – what was to them – Kestrel’s own take on a catchy song from the West. The other half turned their noses up at her unoriginality.
“When he came across this one F-twenty-two dodging railgun burst-shell fire,” The words took milliseconds to sink into the crowd, but the pictures built in their heads would be immutable. “And Galm One flew high on a thermal spike, and said ‘Mobius, let me tell you what’”. Inside the bar, Kestrel ended the song by roaring; “I told you once, my dear old dad, I’m the best there’s ever been!” The bar’s response was deafening. The Osean had great skill at crowd control, to rouse Japan’s finest beyond the traditional courtesy given unto guests. Ise was glad she had vacated it early; at this point, Naka would have certainly to have burst a pressure gauge by how Kestrel had just put her routine in the shadows with the raw emotion she brought forth. Out here on the docks, the pleasantly cool breeze came in from a sky broken only on the horizons, and by radio towers with indicator lights on the hills. Ise sipped tea, and then typed into the records; Hubert class Nuclear Supercarrier Kestrel (1st) 666.
Just FYI, 's air wing breakdown isn't quite accurate. Looks more something like this, as of 1991: Fighters: 24 F-14A Light Attack: 24 F/A-18A or A-7E Medium Attack: 10 A-6E Electronic Warfare: 4 EA-6B, 4 E-2C ASW: 10 S-3A Tankers: 4 KA-6D Helicopters: 6/8 SH-3G/H Transport: 2 C-2A Modern air wings look something like this: Fighters: 12 F/A-18C, 24 F/A-18E, 12 F/A-18F or 24 F/A-18E, 24 F/A-18F or 36 F/A-18E, 12 F/A-18F Electronic Warfare: 4 E/A-18G, 4 E-2D Helicopters: 6 MH-60S, 6 MH-60R Transport: 2 C-2A.
Houshou managed to squeeze herself and the massive parcel of food she was carrying through the doors to the infirmary. She could barely see around the oversized parcel. She’d made enough to easily feed any of the standard carriers in Japan’s fleet and it was hard to manage it all when you had nothing but your arms to do the heavy lifting.
Still, as long as the recipient enjoyed the food, even if only for the satisfaction of a full belly, it was worth it in her eyes. She managed to find the front reception, a young girl with short hair in a nurse’s uniform sat behind the desk going over some papers. “Excuse me,” Houshou began, getting her attention.
“I was told there was a new carrier here? I’m just bringing her some food.” The nurse merely pointed to a pair of double doors off to the left. “Room 144, she’s in bad shape so I don’t think she’s up for visitors.” She said, before going back to her papers. Either her manners were poor, or she was busy. Houshou guessed it was probably the latter. Nevertheless, she thanked the nurse and pushed her way through the doors.
Medical personnel milled about her as she walked, going about their daily duties. They paused only long enough to spot Houshou and give the retired carrier and her package a wide berth. Some looked like they wanted to ask if they could help her, but their own tasks were evidently more important. Houshou didn’t mind, it wasn’t that heavy for her. Still hard to get it though doors with only her feet to get them open. Along the way, her eyes scanned the room numbers. Even numbers were on the right side.
Demons Of Razgriz
138140142there we are! She had to set down the package to open the door, there was no one around at the moment that she could ask for help. On the inside of the room, were three beds one of which was obscured by white curtains on the right side of the room. The other two beds were empty. Well at least this carrier had some privacy. She picked up the package moved to place it on one of the empty beds. “Hello!” She greeted.
“I’ve brought you some food! I was told you were hungry.” She heard awell it sounded like a sigh of relief that quickly morphed into a pained groan halfway through. “Hi.” The mystery carrier gave a pained reply. Houshou winced in sympathy as she went about unpacking the food. Out of the package, she unwrapped various containers containing a selection yakitori, curry, tonkatsu, and enough rice to serve a party of eighteen. She’d have brought more variety of foods, but this was the best she could do on such short notice.
She pulled open the curtains so that she could finally see the carrier andouch. If she’d been doubting Katsuro’s words before, she wasn’t now. Despite Akashi’s best attempts to cover them up, Houshou could still see the carrier’s injuries. A bandage wrapped around her head was marred by a patch of dried blood just above her right eye. A breathing tube was hooked up to her nose, supplying her with oxygen. Her left forearm was wrapped in more bloody bandages, and an IV drip was inserted into her arm. Her green eyes were half-lidded and tired as she stared back at Houshou.
Her long, snow white hair was disheveled and spread out in chaotic locks around her pillow. The carrier gave a pained chuckle. “That bad huh?” Houshou blinked and tried to put on the kindest smile she could muster. “To be honest, it’s not the worst I’ve seen.” She admitted. “Still, it’s a bit difficult to see anyone come in with those kinds of injuries.” She gave a small bow to the carrier. “Oh, where are my manners?
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My name is Houshou. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance!” “Likewise.
Name’s Kestrel.” Kestrel managed to raise her hand and give a weak wave. “It’s nice to meet you Kestrel.” Houshou smiled, turning towards the food a preparing a bowl for Kestrel. “Now, I’m sure you must be starving” Kestrel let out a relieved sigh. “You don’t even know the half of it! I’ve been having hunger cramps for” She trailed off, staring into space for a second. “Actually, how long have I been out? Not gonna lie, but I’m still a little dazed right now.” Houshou hummed, spreading some curry over a bed of rice.
“I’m not quite sure, honestly. I was only informed that you’d woken up recently, not when you came in. I’m afraid I’m not as well informed as I used to be.” Houshou placed to bowl down on the empty bed and went for the controls for Kestrel’s bed. With that, Kestrel would sit more upright and make it easier for her to eat. “There we go! Now, eat!” She handed Kestrel the bowl and a set of chopsticks.
Kestrel ditched the chopsticks, tipped the bowl up to her mouth with her good hand, and inhaled the food in one massive bite. There was about a half-second delay between that and her swallowing. She let out a contented sigh as she got the first bit of food in what felt like days. But she was still hungry, so she handed the bowl back to Houshou and asked: “Hope it’s not too much to ask for more?” Houshou simply smiled and took the bowl, quickly filling it up again. You eat as much as you like!
I brought plenty!” She handed her the second helping, which the carrier once again gulped down. The two quickly settled into a rhythm. Houshou would fill another bowl with whatever she figured Kestrel would enjoy. Kestrel would take a single massive bite or shovel the food into her mouth and be done with it in the span of a second or so. It was a good system. Houshou would honestly have preferred a bit more conversation, but she couldn’t deny that it brought a smile to her face to see Kestrel so happy.
At least, at first. She started to get worried when she got about two-thirds of the way through the food she brought, and Kestrel showed no sign of slowing down. Either Kestrel was a speed-eater or she had a much higher food intake than most carriersand battleships.
Houshou had made enough food to satisfy any of Japan’s carriers! Where the heck was she packing it all?! Eventually, Houshou’s worst nightmare came true. Having to tell a hungry carrier that she’d just run out of food. She turned and handed Kestrel the last bowl. “I’m sorry, but this is the last bowl.” She admitted as Kestrel took it.
“I guess I didn’t make as much as I thought.” Kestrel stared at the bowl for a couple seconds, before simply tipping the bowl up to her mouth and downing it like she’d done all the others. When she was done, she handed the bowl back.
“Or I was hungrier than you thought.” Kestrel figured. “Full disclosure, I could smell you coming with that food before you even opened the door.” Houshou blinked. “I’msorry?” “No, I mean, thanks for the food. Really.” Kestrel said with a smile. “For a while I was staring to get a bit worried that my request had been ignored or something.” “Surely you didn’t think we’d intentionally starve you?!” Houshou gasped. The bed-ridden carrier just shrugged.
“Honestly, with the succession of crap I had to deal with before I got sent to the bottom it wouldn’t have been all that surprising.” She admitted. “I mean, my own country wound up with a pretty bad track record with me towards the end so” “Lack of supplies I’m guessing?” “Lack of pilots and then branding me and my crew as traitors, actually.” Houshou’s eyes bulged. “No!” “Yes.” Kestrel countered. “Well to be fair it was basically an internal coup carried out by Belkans that led to Osea going full pants-on-head stupid but I don’t really feel like talking about that much right now.” Now Houshou was more confused than horrified. Or maybe a bit of both?
Yeah, a bit of both. Sure Kestrel had just admitted that she’d been branded a traitor as a steel-hull, either through no fault of her crew or because they’d actually betrayed their country. That was already bad enough without Kestrel naming two nations she’d hadn’t heard before. Belkan’s and Osea? Unless she meant to say the Balkan’s andOcean?
No she’d definitely used them as referring to a specific demonym and name of a country or territory respectively. But as afar as Houshou knew there were no country’s that used either of those terms. And on top of that, Houshou had no memory of any carrier in its entirety being branded traitorous. Actually, she had no mamory of any carrier named Kestrel to begin with! And she should know these things!
Studying historic vessels from before, during, and after the Second World War was required while she was still part of the fleet, just in case they returned to join the fight. “Kestrel” “Mmm?” “Where do you think you are right now?” Houshou asked, doing her best to highlight the seriousness of the question. “A hospital inOsearight?” Kestrel’s tentative answer wasn’t promising. But it did lend some credence to Houshou’s developing theory. So she continued onwards.
“Does the word Japan or Nihon mean anything to you?” Kestrel was now a bit apprehensive. Should it?” Houshou sighed. “Because you’re in Nihonin Japan. This is my home country.
I’m JS Houshou, former light Carrier of the Imperial Japanese Navy. And I have never heard of a country named Osea.” Kestrel leaned forward in her bed, eyes wide. How could you not?! Osea’s a superpower! How could you not have heard of the Osean Federation?!!” “What I’m telling you is the truth Kestrel. As much as it pains me to admit it, the country you hail from doesn’t exist.” Houshou explained, moving forward to try and push Kestrel back into her bed.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s how it is.” Thankfully Kestrel let herself be eased back down, too tired after that one outburst for anything more. “Shiiiiiiiit” She sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead. “Yeah, sure, I’ve just come back from the dead.
Why not throw more bullshit into that fire?” “I really, truly am sorry.” Houshou bowed apologetically. “If you want, I can get someone who might be a bit morequalified to get to the bottom of this. I’m afraid that I’m not really an expert in this sort of thing.” Kestrel just let out another sigh. “Yeahyeah, sure.” She let her hand flop onto the sheets. “It’s justdammit” Another sigh.
“I’m sorry, this is a lot to take in y’know?” “I’m sure it is.” Houshou agreed, quickly packing up her things. “I know it might not be much help, but is there something else I could get you?” Kestrel was silent for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling. What could’ve been going on in that carrier’s head was anyone’s guess. “A history book.” She finally said.
“Ahistory book?” Houshou repeated, somewhat confused. “Yeah, a history book.” Kestrel repeated. “Something general. Don’t really care if it’s for kids. Just get me something that hits all the important points if you can.” Houshou smiled and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” Kestrel closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the pillow.
“Greatthanks.” “Is that all?” Houshou asked. “Yeah” Kestrel confirmed. “Andthanks for the food.” “You’re welcome Kestrel.” Houshou grabbed her things and made her way to the door.
“Try to get some rest if you can.” “I make no promises.” Kestrel said with a groan. Now having burned through most of her energy, she tried and failed to keep her eyes open. Leaning her head back onto her pillow, she nodded off as she sank into her bed.
At least she wasn’t starving anymore. Once she’d closed the door behind her, Houshou all but bolted down the halls of the infirmary. There were only two things on her mind now: Telling the Nagato about what she’d just heard, and getting these dishes washed. Dirty dishes aren’t a good thing when you run a restaurant!