[A/N]: Don't look elsewhere, this is indeed the redux of chapter one of Ghosts In The Fog. Both Chapter one and two haven't changed much, but chapter three is where everything COMPLETELY changes.

This story was redone to be cooperative with the fic Daemons Of The Fog by Touhoufanatic, and our two stories will often parallel each other at times. I highly recommend that you read his fic alongside mine, as you'll get much more information if you do so.

Put simply, confused? Go read his fic. If it doesn't make sense after that then ask your questions in a review. I'll be delighted to answer.

The biggest change in my life started with a tuna fishing trip.

It's 2055, 0200 hours on a Friday. The moon is full, with some occasional clouds and a little bit of fog that stays low on the water, making it look like we're sailing over clouds.

The guy I'd chartered the boat from was pretty attractive I admit, though his ginger hair and beard seriously need a trim.

We had to leave early, since Fog destroyers like to hang around the port in the morning, to make sure nobody tries to go out to sea.

Even though he says they shouldn't arrive for another two hours at least, the captain keeps all the lights off as we slowly chug out past the jetty. The only illumination is that of the moon and the very dim fluorescent lights in the instrument panel.

"Now here's the dangerous part. If they showed up early they're going to hit us while we're on the bar. Put that life jacket on, and don't take it off until I say so."

He keeps his voice down, getting uncomfortably close to me so he doesn't have to speak up. I do as instructed, donning the navy blue life jacket before sitting down in the aft section of the boat and keeping my eyes fixed on the horizon, warily searching for any sign of the Fog warships that the captain has warned me about.

We steadily make progress over the gravel bar outside of the port, and once we're over the captain throttles up, turning on a single red light aimed ahead so he can spot anything in the water.

We head due west for two hours. The horizon is just barely starting to get light when he finally throttles down to an idle and cuts the engine.

"We're here. Without GPS this is the best I can do. The fish finder just marked a school at sixty feet, so start chumming; I'll get the rods set up."

"Yes sir, how deep is it here?"

He starts chuckling a little while he pulls two fishing rods off a rack and starts threading the fishing line through the guides. "You really want to know?"

"Yes sir I do."

He glances up at the fish finder next to the helm, squinting a little to see the numbers. "Two thousand, eight hundred, and thirty six feet deep. Don't fall overboard, you might get your feet wet." He grins slightly at the last bit, and starts tying a swivel onto the line of a rod before pausing. "You can drop the 'sir' crap too, I'm not even twenty yet, all the other captains call me Stonewall or Skipper."

I start cutting up herring and throwing the small chunks overboard, pacing it while we drift across the calm water.

A couple minutes later Skipper walks over to me and holds out one of the rods, which has a large metal jig on the line. "I assume you've done this before a time or two, so I don't have to tell you how to work a jig."

I nod, this isn't my first trip, I've gone out on Depoe Bay a few times, but this is my first time out of this bay.

I take the rod and pause the chumming while I drop the lure into the water and let it fall. "What depth are the tuna holding at?"

He glances up at the fish finder again while doing the same thing I am on the other side of the boat. "Thirty feet."

I let the jig fall a little further, and feel the fishing line in my fingers, though not for long, because the line suddenly starts spooling out like crazy.

"Got one!"

I flip the catch, kicking the reel into gear, and listen in giddy excitement as the reel screams.

We had a good morning, we both limited out, and we're just getting ready to head in when Skipper climbs up the light mast and eyes the horizon with a pair of binoculars. His carefree demeanor is suddenly gone, and he scrambles down the mast before starting the engine.

"Sit down and hold on! There's a Fog light cruiser coming our way!"

I barely have time to sit in the fighting chair before we accelerate and crank around, facing the rising sun. I can tell the throttle is pushed clear forward, but behind us I can see the cruiser starting to take shape, it's gaining on us, and there is no way we can outrun it in this old fishing boat.

Then, just as suddenly as we began moving, the boat stops accelerating, and starts slowing down.

"Come on you temperamental whore, now is not the time to act up!" I can hear Skipper repeatedly cursing the old boat, revving the engine and trying different things to get us moving again, but none of it works.

Just when I think things can't possibly get any worse, the water fifty yards to our port side erupts in a column of spray, and a Fog submarine breaches the surface.

As soon as the deck gun turns to aim at us I hear Skipper go quiet and turn off the engine.

He walks out of the wheelhouse a few seconds later, a lit cigarette in between his lips, tying a blindfold around his eyes. "Well, if you've got any last words you want to say, now's the time to say 'em."

The last thing I remember is a feeling like grabbing an electric fence intended for cattle before everything goes black.

When I wake up, I'm on a beach, face down in the sand as waves hiss around me. My head is pounding like I have a hangover, and it hurts to breathe, but I push myself up.

I get up into a kneeling position and an intense wave of nausea hits me, causing me to lose what little food I had eaten and heave until there's nothing left to puke up. Each heartbeat feels tight in my chest, to the point where it almost hurts, but I slowly straighten up to my full height of six feet, with the world spinning around me.

I look around, and to no surprise find myself alone on the beach.

"Where the fuck am I….?"

I look again to my left, paying attention to my surroundings more instead of looking for people. To my left is a vertical cliff roughly a hundred yards down the beach, to my right is the same, and to my front is yet another vertical cliff, with no way up.

"Shit! Now what?!" I yell to no one in particular, scuffing the sand with a soaked boot.

Frustrated, I sit down on a driftwood log and stare out at the ocean while trying to fruitlessly comb the sand out of my chestnut brown hair, all the while watching a fog bank roll across the water towards me.

Suddenly, I'm not on that beach anymore, I'm standing in what looks like a garden, in front of me is a circle of marble columns, with a small table and tea set in the center. On the other side of the table sits a red-haired girl, wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

"Come, we have much to talk about."

I warily approach, stopping roughly five feet away. "Where am I?"

"You are still on that beach, but this is the concept communication system. It is how we will talk for the most part."

That confuses the utter hell out of me.

"Wha…? So...this is all in my mind? Who are you? What the hell happened while I was unconscious!?"

She motions to the chair across from her, and I cautiously sit down, still nervously looking around.

"First off, yes, this meeting is in your mind. Secondly, I am the Fog heavy cruiser Baltimore." My eyes go wide, and I start to get up, but she motions for me to wait. "And third, you were implanted with a Fog union core. Meaning you are now one of us now." She explains as she pours a cup of tea and slides it across the table to me.

I eye the cup of tea, and take a cautious sip before setting it back down.

"This has got to be some sick dream. There's no way this is possible."

Baltimore shakes her head, and three holographic windows appear out of thin air, each of them showing a ship. "Choose one of these ships."

"Why, am I choosing how I die?"

"No, you are choosing which ship will be you. As a member of the Fog you need to choose."

I stare at her like she's crazy, but I see the determination in her eyes, and look to the three holograms.

"That small one can be crossed off. So that leaves these two."

I look at the remaining two, and read the small bit of information below each one.

'Alaska class-large cruiser, 3 photon turrets with three guns each, along with an assortment of aerial missiles, corrosive torpedoes, and small anti-aircraft armament.'

I really like that one, but best look at them both before deciding.

'Atlanta class light cruiser, eight photon turrets with two guns each, along with aerial missiles and corrosive torpedoes. Main armament is dual purpose, capable of engaging both aerial and naval targets.'

"This is tough, but I think the Alaska class would suit my personality better."

Baltimore taps the hologram, and it disappears, then she sips her tea and smiles at me. "I shall be there to pick you up in five minutes."

Just like that I'm back on the beach, still staring at the approaching fog bank.

"Is this really happening? I'm part of them now?" I mumble, staring at a single point in the fog. I can feel something in that fog bank, I don't know how, but I know that there is a ship there, heading straight towards me.

The wall of thick fog keeps getting closer and closer until it stops roughly half a mile offshore. Finally I see it, it's a huge cruiser, and the red accents make the surrounding fog glow crimson. It sails directly towards me, finally stopping on the edge of the surf when it runs aground.

I'm completely terrified, but if what she says is true…. then I can't waste an opportunity like this!

A stairway of holographic hexagons forms, leading from the sand in front of me clear up to the bow of the ship.

I hesitantly step onto the first one, testing the stability of it before stepping up onto the next one. I finally swallow my fear and start walking faster, until my feet finally touch the deck.

"Welcome aboard."

I look up from my feet to find Baltimore sitting cross-legged on top of the #1 gun battery. "What do you think? I am impressive, yes?"

"Quite. If I may ask, what is the relationship between you and the ship?"

"The ship is I, and I am the ship. A mental model is simply more entertaining to use to interact with other ships."

I nod in understanding as the ship reverses into the fog.

"From this time forward you will be called Alaska, and you will be mentored by myself. Disobedience will be met harshly, is this understood?"

"Y-y-yes Baltimore."

"Excellent. I suggest you rest up now, because you will be going straight into training once you have been built."

"Y-yes Baltimore, h-have accommodations been made where I can sleep?"

The model shows me to a room below decks, where a simple cot sits in the corner, with nothing else inside.

I lay down, wrapping myself in the blankets to try and cover every inch possible of my cold pale skin.

The only thing I can wonder is if Skipper is alright, and if I can possibly resist the Fog once I'm out from under Baltimore's wing.

Three days pass on the open ocean, in that time Baltimore shows me how to use my sensor array, then how to activate the Concept Communication System, and finally how to actually control her ship, though that last one was a very short lesson and only allowed me to grasp the basics like maneuvering and firing of the main turrets.

Today, we arrive at Midway island, where I will be building 'myself' and getting some practice maneuvering and firing before we go back to the coast to hunt human ships.

All that's left of the small island is a single spot of land above the water, and even that is covered at high tide.

"When you get down there, find a patch of silver looking sand, and concentrate on the ship, your processor should do the rest."

"Yes ma'am."

Once she stops I create a staircase down, (which is surprisingly easy) and walk along the beach until I find what Baltimore told me about. I kneel down, placing my hand on the sand that almost looks like granules of aluminum, and picture the ship in my mind.

The sand starts to glow white, then it lifts up and a stream of it streaks through the sky before settling on a single point beside Baltimore. I watch in awe as my ship is built before my eyes, starting with the lower decks, then forming the hull, deck, superstructure, and finally the huge array of weapons.

Once it's done I create a walkway across the surface of the water, and sprint towards the gigantic warship, barely forming the platforms faster than I'm running.

I give one last step and jump, sailing through the air and landing on the number two turret. The second my bare feet touch the metal the ship seems to come alive. Black accents light up all along the entire length, and I finally get to see my crest, which looks identical to a biohazard symbol. I bring up my sensor array, command ring, and raise the anchor while I communicate with Baltimore.

"Cruiser Alaska reporting for duty."

"I hope you like your choice. Now we begin training."

"Understood, proceeding south to designated position."

While I move out I climb up to the top of the superstructure, and finally get the chance to look at the entirety of my ship.

This ship is almost as big as the USS Iowa, the three turrets sit in an identical configuration, and the sheer amount of anti-aircraft stations give me an idea for taking care of missiles and aerial torpedoes.

I'm so interested in the armament 'I' carry that I almost miss Baltimore signaling the beginning of this round of practice.

To make things easier on myself I pull up rudder, speed, and turret controls on holographic windows, which leaves them at my fingertips, so I can focus on tactics.

"Klein field active, ready for combat."

I pull hard right rudder at half speed while watching Baltimore to see what she'll do and act accordingly.

Instead of her using forethought like I expected she would, she simply sails straight towards me, blazing away with her two forward turrets.

"Fine then, if that's how you're gonna be!"

I neutralize my rudder halfway through the turn so I'm broadside to her with all three turrets able to fire. The aiming is incredibly simple; just point and shoot, no ballistics required.

"Have some of this!" I yell to no one as I simultaneously fire all three turrets. Black beams of light fire from the muzzles, and lance towards Baltimore, landing four successful hits, though her Klein field absorbs the damage.

"That sound is seriously underwhelming." I groan, disappointed at the high-pitched chime of the guns firing. I adjust my rear turret, and get ready to fire again, but Baltimore suddenly makes an audio call.

{That is quite enough. Match over. My Klein field is at eighty percent saturation from those hits.}

"Really?! Wow!"

{Anchor beside me, since your weapons do so much damage I'll have to simply explain to you certain scenarios.}

"Yes ma'am, en-route."

I pull half right rudder while I pivot the turrets so they're in a non threatening position.

The trip back towards the island is short at full speed, and I practice some zigzagging on the way back, a good tactic to avoid unguided torpedoes from what little I understand of naval combat.

I finally slow to a halt and drop anchor off Baltimore's starboard side before making a walkway and walking across.

"That was an impressive first battle, but you were sloppy. Your turning circle was loose, and you showed me your broadside while I was firing at you. What say you in your defense?" Baltimore criticizes me from atop the number two gun battery, her arms crossed while she stares down at me.

"Respectfully, my turning circle was loose so I could observe what you were going to do, and I showed my broadside so I could get all of my guns on target immediately, in order to properly utilize my superior armament at a range where your weapons were inaccurate."

She remains quiet while I lean against the railing, staring up at her.

Then after a solid five minutes of us staring at each other she huffs and turns away.

"Raise anchor, you will need to practice your use of corrosive torpedoes and aerial missiles."

"Actually, Baltimore if I may, I wish to upgrade my main armament to kinetic shells, I see more use in it than my current armament, seeing as how five of my main guns missed at a range of ten miles."

She turns back around and looks at me, almost studying me. "And how would this be an upgrade?"

"For one, I would be able to extend my effective range by at least double. Second I would be able to fire over obstacles such as islands or defensive walls. Third, there is the intimidation factor of the sound that the shells make while in flight, and the extended range would allow me to support from further away, thus reducing the chances of getting damaged. Lastly is the intimidation factor of the sound the guns would make when firing, it is louder than the current sound, but it is associated to humans with the sound of warfare and death."

Baltimore remains quiet for another minute, tapping her chin in thought.

"I will permit this, but I expect results."

"Yes ma'am! You won't be disappointed!" I snap a salute to her and run across the walkway to my ship, setting to immediately converting all my conventional weapons to fire an actual projectile instead of a beam of plasma.

The nine twelve inch guns were relatively easy to convert, but I also had to make a nanomaterial storage tank and a nanomaterial generator, which takes minerals from the seawater and converts them.

Once all was said and done I had the main guns capable of firing up to thirty miles and hitting within a hundred yards of a target, and while we were underway I began converting all my anti-aircraft armament and secondary batteries. While Baltimore wasn't looking I even used some of my stored nanomaterials to make a couple aircraft for the amidships catapult.

Everything is finally starting to come together, and I can't wait until I can get to fire these guns at a real target.

Two days later, we arrive off the Oregon coast, and I use my knowledge of coastal settlements to choose our first target, which will be both a rite of passage and a test for me.

The first target is the town I went tuna fishing out of, which is the least defended of them all.

I wait until dusk before approaching, and when I'm barely over the horizon I launch the small floatplane for observation and scouting and have it circle high above the town in a very lazy orbit.

Thanks to its presence I can see every single light in town from its perspective, and once I'm in range I turn broadside, slowing to a halt while I calculate the firing calculations and input them to the guns.

After double-checking the range and my firing solutions I contact Baltimore. "I'm ready when you are."

{You may commence the attack.}

"Confirmed, commencing attack."

I end the call and put in a pair of earplugs as to not deafen myself, then turn to face the shoreline in the distance, looking through the bulletproof glass of the bridge.

"Lord forgive me for what I'm about to do."

I reach up to the holographic display and press my finger on a button.

Even inside the sealed bridge with earplugs, the sound of the guns makes me jump a little. The flash lights up the night for a split second, and I turn my attention to the live feed from the floatplane.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven,"

I count down the time until impact, tapping my right foot on the floor with every number.

"...Three, two, one."

Most of the shells hit off target, but one does hit a vital piece to the fishing fleet: the refueling station. It goes up in a ball of flame that mushrooms into the night sky, lighting up the entire marina in the process.

I wait another five seconds until the guns are loaded and elevated again, then I adjust the firing solutions to hit key targets.

I might be attacking my own kind, but I'm not going to mindlessly level the whole damn town.

Once the solutions are corrected I fire another salvo, counting down once again until they slam into the small drydocks, demolishing the ships inside and destroying the concrete, rendering them useless.

"Two for two, let's see if I can make it three…."

I'm already inputting the new adjustments to hit the last target before the guns are loaded. But once they are loaded they elevate to the new calculations, and I don't waste any time sending the half-ton projectiles on their way.

This target is going to be a tough nut to crack, but if at least three of the shells hit they should do the job.

My luck does one better, all nine of the shells slam into an observation bunker atop the hill above the town, blasting chunks of concrete the size of SUV's hundreds of feet into the air.

"That was a bit overkill, but if it's worth killing, it's worth overkilling. One more target…."

I'm not really concerned about the last target, but I'm going to kill it anyways, just to be safe before I do phase two.

I lower the aim of the guns a little, double-checking the calculations so I don't miss and hit some nearby houses, and press the 'fire' button once more, lighting up the moonlit deck like it's daylight for a split second.

The target area goes up like a Roman candle when the shells impact. It used to be a coastal defense battery of four fourteen inch 'disappearing' guns, now it's a flaming series of craters.

I order the floatplane back and drop anchor before contacting Baltimore.

"Requesting permission to go ashore and check the damage first hand."

{Granted, but if you get in trouble I'm coming in guns blazing.}

"Understood. I'll be firing if I get in trouble."

Thankfully I've been practicing controlling the ship from a distance with Baltimore's help, so if things go south I can create a distraction, of the twelve-inch variety.

While I'm waiting for the floatplane I change my clothes using nanomaterials to a pair of black cargo pants, black T-shirt, and a black hoodie, which isn't much deviation from what I normally wore, but it should keep me incognito long enough to check out the damage I caused and maybe get something to eat, though I've noticed food isn't a necessity anymore.

The last touch to my ensemble is an Olive Drab baseball cap with my Fog sigil on it, though I'm doubtful anyone will realize what the crest means, and even if they do, what can they do?

The floatplane finally lands beside the ship five minutes after I'm done changing, and I quickly hop into the pilot's seat before giving it an order to land at the beach beside the jetty. At this time the beach should be abandoned, so I can walk into town from there and order the plane to circle the town again so I can have an eye in the sky should I need it.

The plane flies off with me in it, and upon further inspection I change the landing zone. I'll be jumping from the wing onto the jetty, since the waves are currently too big in the surf for the plane to take off again.

Everything goes according to plan on the disembarking phase, except for when I land I bang my shin up on the jagged rocks. That hurt like hell.

I cautiously look around once the floatplane has taken off, and send a quick message to Baltimore before starting my walk down the jetty.

On shore, moving on foot, will advise if I get in trouble.

Over the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks I can hear sirens in the distance, some near the port where the fires are burning, and some up at the coastal battery, trying to contain the fires before they detonate any more ammunition. I ignore the sirens and head towards the drydocks first, keeping off the main road, mostly using alleys and back yards to travel through town.

When I finally get to the drydocks I find them flooded, with the shattered remnants of the boats they contained scattered all over the surrounding area.

A bunch of angry yelling grabs my attention, and I quickly back into the shadows when I see the source.

"God dammit! That does it!" The ginger-haired captain yells, throwing his captain's hat to the ground at his feet. "I'm getting the Elco and sinking the next damn Fog I see!"

He vents for a few more minutes before picking up his hat and plopping it on his head. Then he stalks past me, and I step to the edge of the shadows.

"Psst! Skipper!"

He stops and wheels around, his eyes wide. "Miss, you're alive?"

"Hell yeah I'm alive, c'mere and keep your voice down!" I hiss, motioning for him to come to me.

He gives me a suspicious look but does walk over to me, his hands in his pockets.

"So what happened? When I woke up you weren't on the boat."

I shrug. "Beats the hell outta me, when I woke up I was down by Gold Beach. I just got back yesterday morning."

"Huh. Well, I've got your split of the tuna in the boat house freezer, so come pick it up whenever you can."

I motion for him to follow me, and we start walking towards the marina, where the fires still haven't died down. "Don't worry about it, I've gotta go inland for a couple days, so just sell the meat, to help you get a new boat."

"Well gee, I sure appreciate it. I'll take you out again for free next time you're in town."

I giggle a little, and almost slip up and tell him I have my own 'boat' now, but I catch myself and give him a friendly peck on the cheek. "Thanks Skipper! I'm sorry to run off on ya', but I oughta head home and pack." I start to walk off, but stop and turn back towards him. "Oh, and I wouldn't recommend going after the Fog right now. A little birdie told me a heavy cruiser and a battlecruiser showed up yesterday evening. If you don't believe me, I saw the battlecruiser firing out there, almost straight out from the jetty. I'm going to check in with my folks, then I'll meet you on the jetty in an hour, 'kay?"

"Alright….I hope you'll tell me who this 'little birdie' is so I can get updates from them too."

"I'll think about it, later!"

I run off, turning into an alleyway and disappearing from sight of him.

Since I've gotta wait until the flames die down I choose to go to the local diner, and eat a slice of their special lemon cream pie before heading to the marina and briefly checking out the damage before leaving.

Since the last two targets were military targets I can't view those, so I kill another half hour before heading to the jetty, calling my floatplane when I reach the old parking lot.

I find Skipper at the end of the jetty, a pair of night vision binoculars pressed to his face as he looks at my ship in the distance.

"Hey there Skipper, any motion on the battlecruiser?"

"Nope, but it has some very interesting markings."

"Like what?"

"Well, most big Fog ships I've ever seen have very bright and easy to see colors, but this one has black as its color. It blends in really well with the night."

I see my floatplane coming in for a landing, and step out to stand on the end of the jetty. "So you want to know who my informant is?"

He lowers the binoculars and looks at me. "Would you please tell me?"

"My informant is myself. When I disappeared the Fog gave me a union core, and that battlecruiser out there is me. I'm sorry about destroying your boat, this is how I earn their trust, once I'm no longer being followed around everywhere by a heavy cruiser I'll switch sides. But for now I've gotta do what I'm ordered. If I catch you out there I'll miss, but don't count on the heavy cruiser missing. Now, if you'll excuse me, my ride is here."

I turn around and create a walkway off the end of the jetty before walking down it, with my last step landing me on the wing of the floatplane while it idles past.

I'm climbing into the cockpit while I start a call with Baltimore.

"Mission complete, en-route back to the ship."

{Excellent. Two destroyers showed up while you were ashore. They'll be patrolling this area.}

"Confirmed, what's next on the agenda?"

{We're heading to the Atlantic; we'll be meeting with your European colleagues.}

"Colleagues?"

{There have been other humans that were implanted with a union core. I'll explain more when you get back.}

"Roger that, I'll be back in a few minutes."

The call is ended by Baltimore, and while I'm flying towards the ship I look over my right shoulder, to find Skipper giving me a navy salute.

I take the control stick momentarily and rock the wings at him before giving control back to the autopilot.

Three minutes later the plane lands beside my ship, and I hop up onto the deck before turning it into nanomaterials, which are stored in a pod below the amidships catapult.

I use a staircase of my Klein field to climb up to the top of the superstructure, and hang my legs off the edge before raising the anchor.

Baltimore sails out of the fog bank and pulls up next to me. "Let's get on our way; we have plenty of water to cover."

"Aye aye, full speed ahead."

The ship responds to my input almost immediately, almost making me fall backwards from the sudden acceleration. Once we're moving I transfer over to Baltimore and we both sit on the number two turret while we talk.

"So how many others are there like me?"

"Fourteen in the fleet you're joining, but there are hundreds worldwide. Currently you are the largest assault ship of all of your fleet excluding the flagship."

"I see… wait, assault ship? You mean there's more than one classification of Fog ships?"

"Yes, there are assault ships, which are most common, then there are support ships such as mobile drydocks or auxiliary tankers, reconnaissance ships such as destroyer escorts or submarines, and finally there are suppression ships. I believe humans call them carriers."

"Understandable… so why are we meeting them?"

"You all will be made into an independent fleet that will have your own directives and assignments straight from the admiralty."

"Wow…"

The rest of the trip down the coast is boring. The seas were calm, no clouds overhead, and no human ships came out to fight us, even though we took a momentary break in San Francisco harbor for a couple hours. The navy looked very nervous while we were there, but they still didn't attack us, probably because they knew they didn't stand a chance against us.

After a couple hours of rest on my part we're back out on the open ocean, sailing close to shore to see if there is anyone foolish enough to attack us. Sadly there were no takers.

The only moderate excitement we got was while traversing the Panama Canal, which was a tense half-hour endeavor for each of us, as we had to slowly ease through the canal with our Klein fields up, and our weapons ready to engage any targets.

Wisely, none attack us, though inside the thin canal is where they'd have the best chance at sinking us.

We left the area at full speed once we were both through, and only then did we finally take contact, in the form of a trio of FA/18 super hornets, which made a pass at us with Mk82 unguided bombs.

"FINALLY! I've been itching to use these!" I cheer from my spot on the superstructure, taking control of the anti-aircraft positions and turning them to face the jets as they circle around.

The following cacophony of gunfire drowns out any other sound, and in the morning light the tracers light up the night sky like angry fireflies. It seems like a futile gesture until the jets get closer, then one of the five inch shells strikes home on the lead plane, and it goes up in a ball of flame that pinwheels into the water.

The other two quickly follow it when Baltimore starts using her anti-aircraft in conjunction with mine, creating a practical wall of steel and plasma.

"That was awesome!" I yell, still riding a bit of adrenaline from the near miss that started the attack, which showered me in water from the column when the bomb exploded.

"I will say, I am impressed with how well your armament is working." Baltimore compliments me from her ship, which is more or less directly in front of mine.

"Thank you, I'm rather satisfied with it myself, though I do see room for improvements in the anti-aircraft department, which I will set to upgrading immediately."

I mean it too, I immediately begin upgrading the current mounts, including turning the single 20mm oerlikon mounts into dual mounts, then upgrading the 40mm Bofors mounts wherever there's room.

An hour later I'm done, and we're almost around Florida.

I notice on my surface radar two blips hanging out to our east-northeast, and once we're around the peninsula they come within visual distance. They approach us from the starboard side once we turn north, following the coast.

"Destroyers Samuel B. Roberts and Turner reporting to accompany you!" The person on the lead destroyer calls out once they're close enough to be heard. She has hazel hair, and wears a pair of cutoff jeans with a plaid t-shirt that shows off her form a little too well for my liking.

"Battlecruiser Alaska and heavy cruiser Baltimore. Nice to have you along with us." I respond, thinking 'Oh great, two Fog destroyers, now I definitely won't get any peace and quiet', but it's quite the opposite, they both remain nearly silent until halfway up the coast. For some reason I start humming 'sailor's hornpipe', and Samuel B. Roberts pulls up alongside me.

"Is that a hornpipe I hear? You're one of us aren't you?"

"If by that you mean a human-Fog hybrid, then yes I am."

She looks over her shoulder at Turner, but the strawberry blonde is too busy napping to notice our exchange, so she looks back up at me with a friendly grin. "Permission to come aboard?"

The gesture is a nice change of pace from my mentor, who would board without so much as letting me know. "Granted, watch the last step, it's a doozy." I'm joking of course, and she knows it, because she starts giggling as she walks across the gap between our ships.

I climb down the superstructure and meet her down on the deck, where we shake hands before heading up to the bridge to get out of the wind.

"So where you from?" She asks, sitting across from me at the small table in the bridge.

"Oregon, I used to live right on the coast. You?"

"I'm from Louisiana. Though I moved there from Maine when I was younger."

"What about Turner?"

"She was my neighbor. So how long you been….y'know."

"Going on a week now."

She raises both eyebrows at me for a second, then shrugs and turns to look out the windows. "Call me surprised. You sure learn fast, because It's been almost a year for the two of us." She jerks a thumb towards Turner.

"Well, you'll get to see me in action here pretty soon, because we've got three guided missile cruisers coming out of the shipyards."

"Really?! How far out?!"

I pull up my command ring and check the range while launching a floatplane off the amidships catapult. "Fifty nautical miles."

"How far out can you engage?"

"Well, I can start firing at thirty five, but I can start hitting reliably at thirty in calm seas, which these are not, so probably twenty five."

"Woah wait, really? That's like… battleship ranges."

I grin, my hand hovering over a red button on the rear wall of the bridge. "You might want to get back to your little tin can and get ready."

She gives me a glare before I hit the button and the General Quarters alarm starts blaring. Then with a practiced speed she opens the hatch and rushes out, using her Klein field to create a staircase across the gap to her ship.

I have the floatplane circle me at five thousand feet, with a loose orbit.

We adjust our formation so I'm in the rear, with the two destroyers and Baltimore charging headlong at the enemy. Though the 'charge' is incredibly slow thanks to the rough seas, and I can almost keep up with them.

Finally the range closes to thirty nautical miles, and I turn broadside, bringing my guns to bear on the lead cruiser.

"Just a little further…"

Finally the range closes to twenty five nautical miles, and I fire on the lead cruiser, slinging the half-ton projectiles shrieking over my comrades heads.

The shells all miss, some falling short, while others go wide. In response the cruisers fire multiple missiles at us, which force the destroyers to take evasive maneuvers and turn their attention to shooting them down.

One missile makes it through, and hits Turner in the fantail, making her Klein field flicker and disappear.

{My Klein field is down; I'm laying a smoke screen and falling back.}

{Roger that, deploy a decoy while you're at it.}

Surprisingly Baltimore stays quiet, I honestly expected her to spout some 'no retreat' sort of lecture. But she just presses on, essentially leaving us to fend for ourselves while she takes on the cruisers on her own.

"Baltimore, you're getting ahead of the rest of us, they're going to start focusing on you."

She ignores me, and I can see via the floatplane that she turns broadside last-minute, preparing to bring her guns on target.

She doesn't get the chance though. Before I can fire again all three cruisers let loose with everything they have on her.

My guns elevate, but I need to calculate a new firing solution, and by the time that is done the starboard side of her ship erupts in balls of flame as at least a dozen harpoon anti-ship missiles impact, breaking through her Klein field. The torpedoes impact a few seconds later, and the heavy cruiser detonates in a flash of plasma and a gigantic blast that rattles the windows of the bridge on my ship, ten miles away.

"Roberts, Turner, lay smoke and proceed to my position. Leave Decoys to draw their attention away and I'll cover you while you run, we'll escape into the squall."

{Roberts copies, turning around and laying smoke.}

{Turner copies, doubling smoke output.}

I turn east and slow down as black smoke screens me from the cruisers, with Turner heading straight towards me at the source, bounding over the white-capped waves.

With my accuracy being seriously affected by the waves I decide to use my missiles for the first time. I've got more than six dozen of them hidden under the deck, so why not use them?

I made a custom targeting program for using these, but never saw much need until now. I pull up the program and link it to my surface radar, which allows me to target things even beyond visual range, and lock up the three ships, ordering an even split between sixteen missiles.

"Chew on this you assholes!" I yell as I authorize the launch, sending sixteen smoke trails streaking towards the three cruisers, with a one ton missile at the end of each one.

I watch the feed from my floatplane, and clench my fists in anger when the CIWS Gatling guns start shooting at the missiles.

The guns knock three out of the sky before they impact, blasting gigantic holes in each of the Navy ships.

"Turner, Roberts, we're in the clear. Cease smoke generation and form on me."

{Roberts confirms three human cruisers destroyed for one Fog cruiser destroyed.}

"Roberts, how close are you to the human cruisers?"

{Approximately four miles, why?}

"Search for any survivors in the water and extract them."

I turn back towards the smokescreen and start to sail through it as Turner pulls up alongside me, showing a little bit of fatigue.

{Roberts copies, searching for survivors.}

We sail past the sinking hulk of Baltimore, and Turner looks to me. "Alaska, requesting permission to salvage nanomaterials."

I say nothing but give her a nod, and she turns to the wreckage, stopping beside it.

I'm almost to the Samuel B. Roberts when Turner catches up with me and joins in the search for any human survivors, sporting a rack of contact mines on her fantail.

"There wasn't much left to salvage." She shakes her head and shines her spotlights on the surface of the water.

We give up on the search after dark and continue on our way after Turner lays her newly acquired mines across the harbor entrance.

Sadly it's impossible to find an unoccupied cove to shelter from the storm in, so we push on through the night across the Atlantic, bound for the rendezvous point north of Great Britain.

The only rest we get during the entire trip is a two hour break between storms around two in the morning, during which I allow the others to sleep while I keep watch.

By morning I'm practically dead on my feet, but we reach the coast, and take shelter in an abandoned harbor so I can finally sleep.

I only get three hours before I'm woken up.

"Hey Alaska! Get up! The RAF has found us and isn't happy!"

I jump out of bed and stumble my way up to the bridge, using my command and sensor rings to get information and act accordingly, raising the anchor while preparing my weapons for the impending air attack.

We sail out of the harbor at full speed at noon, turning north to follow the coast as my radar warns me of a dozen aircraft inbound from the direction of London.

There's little we can do against so many aircraft, though my anti-aircraft armament is bountiful the destroyers are laughable in comparison, and most of my armament is close range, with the five inch dual-purpose guns being the only exception. Alas, all I can do is wait.