"Earth has fallen. Everyone's in the fight, and a lot are down to sticks and stones. You may think we're screwed, but we're lucky. We have a lot more than they do. We have a battleship."

An extreme crack fic that just wouldn't leave my head. Your mileage may vary.

1: Are you crazy? That's a museum!

Lieutenant Emily Parsons sighed as she looked over herself in the mirror.

A Systems Alliance Navy officer currently attached to the United North American States' Reserve Fleet, she loved the old battleship more than she loved her own mother (she admitted that in her case, it wasn't hard to do). On the other hand, dealing with tourists was always a mixed experience that she regarded with some trepidation. She came here for the huge sixteen-inch guns, not the weirdos.

Admittedly, the huge guns were much smaller than the mass driver on the SSV Geneva, but there was a certain appeal to the old cannons. She'd fired both, but the Missouri actually had a real trigger that she could pull. It was so much more satisfying.

At least she didn't have to wear a period-correct uniform. She'd volunteered at the Clinton Carrier Centre in Norfolk before joining the military, and realized how bad military uniforms used to be. Since the Missouri had served over a two hundred year period and in fact was still (sort of) in service, she simply wore the usual Alliance armour. It seemed odd at first to wear battle armour rather than a normal working uniform, but after about a week she realized how dangerous a ship built two hundred years before modern safety standards really was.

"Looks like a good-sized crowd today," a bearded man in a not-quite-military uniform told her. His nametag and insignia identified him as Jim Miles of the UNAS Heritage Fleet. Jim was the tour coordinator, more or less in charge of the tourism aspect of the old ship. "A bunch of tourists, some marines from KB, and a high school history class."

"Any aliens?" she asked absentmindedly.

A note of humour was in his response. "One very unimpressed looking turian, a couple curious quarians on their pilgrimage, and a bored asari."

"Huh." She peeked at the security feed to her left and raised an eyebrow at her superior's initial comment. "Good-sized?"

"Okay, maybe fifty to a hundred," he admitted.

"That's it?" Disappointment was evident in Emily's voice. "Last time we did the full show we got four times that."

His reply was half-joking, half-sad. "Maybe people just aren't interested."

"We're taking a piece of history out into the open ocean, doing a flank-speed run, and firing a full broadside and people aren't interested?"

"It's October, Emily. It's not tourist season. Everyone's busy, and with all the doomsday talk they want to play tourist even less."

"Still." Receiving no reply, she turned and headed for the door. "Showtime."

Emily pushed the large hatch open, shutting it before skirting around the huge three-gun turret to the aft deck. Sure enough, sixty or so visitors were standing on the aft deck. Most of them were human, some civilians and a few military. There were several families with children and a handful of high school students. And sure enough, there was an unimpressed turian, two quarians gawking at the 16"/50 Mark 7 guns, and an asari that looked more confused than bored.

"Hello and welcome aboard the USS Missouri," she greeted cheerfully, with a half-forced smile. "I'm Lieutenant Emily Parsons, and I'll be your tour guide today."

"Hmph."

"Are you an Alliance officer, Lieutenant?" one of the marines asked. She hadn't been expecting to see an Alliance officer aboard the centuries-old ship.

Emily nodded. "I am. The USS Missouri is crewed by a mix of Alliance military personnel, UNAS JDC military personnel, and civilians with the UNAS Heritage Fleet."

"Ah."

"The Missouri is among the oldest seaworthy ships on Earth," Emily continued after a pause. "She was built-"

"What's the oldest?" a fat kid blurted out.

She held back her irritation, keeping the smile on her face. "The oldest ship that can still steam- and yes, these ships steam- under her own power is actually Missouri's older sister, the USS Iowa." There were no interruptions, so she asked, "Does anyone know when the Missouri was built?"

Surprisingly, the answer came from one of the quarians. She replied matter-of-factly, "The USS Missouri was built during your Second World War; laid down in 1941 and launched in 1944."

"Correct," she acknowledged after a pause. "The UNAS Joint Defence Command still keeps the battleships in active reserve as a point of national pride. The Missouri was retired shortly after the Second World War, reactivated and modernized in the 1980s and put into mothballs in the early 1990s before being retired for good shortly after the turn of the millenium."

"I thought you said it's still in active reserve?" the turian growled.

Emily groaned inwardly at her own poor choice of words. "That's correct. The Missouri was brought out of retirement again during the rising tensions of the 2020s and upgraded again. She stayed in the fleet for another ten years. After that, she was put into reserve, although this was largely on paper and her condition deteriorated.

"When the United North American States joined at the turn of the next century, the battleships were restored and brought back into ceremonial service. After the formation of the Systems Alliance, the battleships remained part of the UNAS Navy but became operated jointly with the Alliance military. Apart from a brief active stint during the tense days of the First Contact War, they've been in that state ever since."

"Guess they just can't retire the old girl," one of the students said with a smile.

"They're not seriously still using this old hunk of junk, are they?" the student right beside her snorted.

Emily bit back a retort. "Although the Missouri is in active service and still in completely serviceable condition, she is hopelessly outdated as a warship, an inelegant weapon for a less civilized age. Her role is purely ceremonial, and even though her guns are still fired for demonstrations, she will never again fire a shot in anger."

"Daddy, why would a ship be mad?" one of the kids asked.

"Well, in anger means against an enemy," Emily explained. "If the ship was at war, she would be firing her shots in anger-"

She was cut off by a piercing siren, followed by a panicky announcement over the ship's PA system. "This is not a drill. General quarters, general quarters, all hands man battle stations. Secure all compartments and noncritical equipment. General quarters, general quarters, all hands to battle stations! This is not a drill!"

Emily's eyes widened. A real call to battle stations, in 2186? Why would an ancient battleship be called into battle. They weren't trained for it, weren't equipped for it, didn't even have procedures for it! It wouldn't happen unless the world was ending... was the world ending? Were the Reapers here?

Points of light falling through the sky, followed by muffled explosions in the distance, galvanized her into action. The world was ending. She ran past the turret and threw the hatch open. "Everyone inside, now!"

It's not a crossover with Battleship, though I'll freely admit it was inspired by the movie. Except this is more like if it was Frigate, featuring the USS Constitution versus aliens that could tank nukes. I am writing it as a semi-serious fic, but it is a crack fic and if you're not willing to suspend disbelief to see an Iowa taking on Reapers then there's probably very little for you in this fic.