"Welp, it's about time."

Trinitite looked up from the bender, her thoughts interrupted by her fleetmate's proclamation. Alton had pushed one of his sleeves up his arm, exposing what the Carrier guessed was a chronometer wrapped around his wrist. It seemed rather unprotected there, but Trinitite guessed it would work well enough, if you couldn't rely on an internal one.

"Time for what?" The Abyssal queried. Perhaps thinking they worked especially well together, her commander had assigned The Abyssal to work with Alton again once they'd finished eating. For the past several hours, they'd been making steady progress on floor two, completing several cages. As they'd bent and secured rebar, Austin had occasionally checked in on them, letting them know they were doing 'pretty good work.' Other than that, he hadn't given the two any timetable, except for when the work day would be over.

…

Ah, right.

"It's about time to clock out." Alton stated, confirming Trinitite's fears. She wasn't exactly sure what that phrase ment, but given the circumstances she could hazard a guess. "Did you lose track of time?"

"Yeah." She admitted. After they'd settled into another rhythm, Trinitite had started focusing on other matters to avoid drifting back to what she'd lost at Bikini. Most important was the damage she'd taken, and what she could do to fix it. With her rigging stowed, her damaged deck wasn't getting painfully jostled, but the dull ache from where the fire had been its hottest had never truly dissipated, and the rough patching in her deck was a numb reminder of her unlucky Helldivers and the 2000lb bombs they'd carried.

If that many bombs had been dropped on her, ploughing through her deck and detonating in her hangar, there was no doubt she would have died. That being said, the explosions had 'merely' destroyed a massive portion of her flight deck, spreading burning fuel onto her tower and into her hangar and starting a fire that should by any rights have been fatal. Only by dropping everything and focusing on firefighting had her crew been able to save her, and it had been a close thing.

Now, her engineers had concluded a damage assessment from that fire, and the news… wasn't good. The fire had burned hot and long enough to compromise some of the abyssal steel that composed her frame and hull. Some damage was obvious, several half-melted beams had been painfully cut away when they'd been building a patch for her flight deck, but some structural damage was much more serious. She hadn't noticed it then, but when an enemy destroyer's five-inch shell glanced off her starboard side during her dash for the shore, her plating there had cracked and partially shattered, instead of bending like it was supposed to. Now, after an inspection, it seemed like the structural damage didn't just extend to the plating on her starboard side, the hangar deck, or the bulkheads of her supply stores, but also included a sizable portion of her superstructure's frame. Her crew would practically have to rebuild her superstructure frame, and if she'd been designed like some of the armored carriers she'd seen they'd have to almost completely tear her apart to get her back to a combat-capable status.

This kind of damage wasn't going to get repaired without yard time.

All of this was just from her original fire damage. It didn't include the problems she now had to deal with from the dash ashore, including losing all her aircraft that hadn't been stored on her deck and the damage a light shell had done to her mess and machine shop.

Nothing else was getting serious repairs until that was sorted out. At the moment her crew assured her things didn't look unsalvageable there, but she was privately considering spending some of her future money to hurry the process along with human-made replacements.

"Huh." Alton replied, shaking his head. "Normally people doing this stuff can't wait for their shift to end. Do you find this fun?"

"It's boring," Trinitite replied truthfully. "I just started thinking about other stuff and lost track of time."

Trinitite wasn't sure how to read the look Alton gave her.

"Yeah." He replied. "I guess that's fair."

Abruptly, the human looked down, waving to the length of rebar Trinitite hadn't finished bending. "Lets get that secured, then we'll return what we haven't used yet and call it a day."

"Yeah." Trinitite replied, still thinking of the look he'd given her. It was a bit harder to read the more rugged faces of male humans, but she was fairly sure he'd bought her… truth, there. Had she said something wrong? Perhaps not, as Alton didn't seem any different when they secured the final length of rebar and returned what they had left to the much-diminished pallets. Perhaps all of this deception was starting to get to her, and she was overthinking things.

"Hey, newbie." The voice of Trinitite's new commander cut in, just after she'd finished stowing the rebar. Trinitite turned, looking at Austin.

"Yes?"

Her superior came to a stop, biting his lip as he surveyed his new subordinate. After a second's inspection, he smiled, slapping Trinitite on the shoulder.

"You did good work today. Know how to get paid?"

"What's-" Trinitite stopped herself when she realized how stupid the question she was going to ask was, starting over. "No, I don't."

"Ah. Just head back into the office. There's gonna be a hell of a line, but once you get to Dan he'll hand you your money." He pointed towards the squat structure, where even from here Trinitite could make out a couple dozen humans gathering near the exit. "Put that helmet and vest where you found it, and you'll be free to go."

"Got it." Trinitite acknowledged, snapping a casual salute. "Thank you."

"No problem." Austin smiled, nodding. "You kept Alton out of trouble, so you've already made yourself useful."

What?

Trinitite looked over to her chastised fleetmate, who was… smiling back?

"You see, I had my hands too full keeping this one under control," Alton replied, pointing with his thumb back at Trinitite. "I didn't have time to cause problems!"

Oh, this was just some good-natured teasing. She'd never seen subordinates feel this… safe talking to their commander, but it was a feeling she thought she could get used to. Trinitite didn't really know how to follow that up, however, so she just nodded, hoping her smile didn't feel too forced.

"Alright." Austin turned, walking away from the pair. "I'll see you in two days."

"Two days?" Trinitite murmured, unsure of what to make of that. If Austin wasn't going to be here tomorrow, who was supposed to command the group? Would someone like Tirto have to take charge for the day?

"Well, we're not going to be working Sunday, are we?" Trinitite's murmur must not have been soft enough, because Alton answered her question.

"Are we?" She echoed.

"Of course we aren't!" Alton replied. "Some of us have families they'd like to spend some time with, after all, and a lot of folks still have to attend their church tomorrow."

Once again, Trinitite wasn't sure how to reply to that. The reasons the human gave were nonsensical, but they clearly made sense to him. She supposed that, since this fleet wasn't exactly on the front lines of the war, that they could afford to allow everyone to rest at the same time, but that still felt… dangerous to her. Like someone disregarding basic safety around avgas.

"Okay." Trinitite acknowledged. The pair had started descending down the stairs, "Does that mean I shouldn't report here tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't recommend it." Alton shook his head, although with both of them bobbing down the scaffolding's stairs it was a little hard to tell. "Nobody would pay you."

"Oh…" Trinitite trailed off, looking over the worksite. This wasn't truly home for anyone, was it? It was odd, thinking of the fleet you worked for as something different from your family. Maybe that was why Austin had been such a nice commander. Sure, finding another job was difficult, but Trinitite could think of countless times when she'd wanted nothing more than to immediately set a course as far away from a Princess giving her unreasonable orders as soon as possible.

Not with Jelly, of course, but in human terms, it was perhaps more accurate to consider Bikini where she went on… sundays? Her job was out there, dealing with the best and worst of Abyssal Fleets along with the occasional aggressive human, while in Bikini she'd had time to train, relax, and relate to her fleetmates.

Suddenly, a lot of behavior around here made a lot more sense. It was a lot easier to think about the detached way these humans talked to each other to the loose coalitions Trinitite had been in, guarding convoys.

"Well, I'll see you monday, alright?"

They were at the base of the scaffolding, Alton making his way towards another building set into the perimeter.

"Isn't the office this way?" Trinitite called after him, but he just raised one of those slab-like portable radios above his head and kept walking. How was that supposed to help?

Whatever. It wasn't her money.

By the time Trinitite reached the line, its length rivaled those she'd seen during lunch, but fortunately this one moved rather quickly. Trinitite found herself making good progress, almost constantly shuffling as the humans kept moving. To spend the time in line, she checked the frequency she'd enjoyed a couple days ago, allowing the soothing… concert? Allowing the soothing noises to help her pass the time. She'd burned through the line quickly, and before really realizing it, Dan was handing her a paper package.

"You know where to store your PPE?" He asked.

Accepting the money, The Wo-Class gave a quick shake of her head.

"No."

"Just follow everyone else." He commented, already looking at the human behind her. "See you monday."

"Aye." Trinitite replied, hurrying away to keep the line moving.

As she followed the man ahead of her, Trinitite focused on the package she'd been given. A sheet of paper had been folded and glued in such a way it could hold more paper. Flipping the flap at the top open, Trinitite got a look at her first money.

It was more… intricate than she'd realized.

The green image of a human labeled 'JACKSON' stared back at her. Codes and stylized images of eagles she'd recognized from her Wikipedia exploration dominated the sheet of not-quite-paper, as the number '20' dominated each corner of the dollar. Removing the rest of the money from the paper, she counted six other twenties, as well as another bill labeled '10'.

One hundred and fifty dollars, as promised. It was nice it came in larger numbers, as handling 150 'federal reserve notes' labeled 'one' would be a bit annoying, but it would make the process of trading something of lower value a bit more complicated.

Less complicated than trying to trade something of equal value or having to hold favors, she admitted.

Placing the notes back in their paper package, Trinitite removed her safety vest and helmet, placing it with those the workers who'd passed in front of her. Now free of any obligations for the day, or tomorrow, she realized, Trinitite's thoughts turned elsewhere. What was she going to do with her first money? Perhaps stockpiling it would be the wisest option, waiting until circumstances arose to use it, but she did just achieve some major progress in her mission here.

Perhaps a bit of ice cream was in order?

After putting some good distance between the worksite and herself, Trinitite opened her coat to store her money. Looking down as she slipped the notes into her hold, a discolored splotch on her jeans caught her eye.

Huh. That hadn't been there when she put these on.

Keeping her coat open so she could see better, Trinitite leaned forwards to get a better look. Her stupid human clothes didn't compress her breasts, so the Abyssal was forced to awkwardly lean even further forwards to get a look, but she supposed her uniform's collar would have forced her to do the same thing. Something had been smeared onto her starboard pant leg, an issue she never would have had in her proper uniform, but she was having some trouble figuring out what it could have been. It was a sandy tan, a bit too light to be the grainy mud that clung to her boots. It was more of a… human… skin tone…

'You know… you've got cream on your lip.'

Oh.

Oh, deep!

The sedan's door closed with a pleasant thunk, leaving Alton a moment of peaceful silence. He sighed, allowing his seat to consume him for a moment. After the hour of fighting traffic that was ahead of him, the seat wouldn't feel all that comfortable, but for now Alton was going to enjoy the thirty seconds of rest it would give him.

As far as work days went, this one hadn't been that bad. Elizabeth had practically done all the hard labor for him, never asking to switch jobs or even slowing down, really, meaning his week had ended on a fairly easy note.

The old sedan rumbled to a start, and Alton turned his attention back to his phone. He needed to clock out real quick, then he could switch to finishing that podcast he'd been listening to.

His mood immediately soured. Right, there had been some kind of battle nearby, hadn't there? That didn't sound like the best way to end a day, but this was the kind of news he needed to stay on top of. The idea of the US mainland getting attacked was ridiculous, but so were many other things before the Abyssal war started.

Setting the timecode back a half-minute, Alton started the podcast again, before throwing the old car into reverse and leaving the parking lot.

"-ite the video, too. On September 13th, the youtube channel KalalochWitness was created, and uploaded one video: ' 4.'"

And so, he drove and listened. Apparently, someone had uploaded a video about a naval battle that had been visible from Olympic National Park. That alone was disturbing, but it wasn't unheard of for escorts or aircraft to engage an Abyssal submarine this close to shore.

What made the video so strange were the ships involved. A gigantic smoke screen had been laid, obscuring what the show's hosts assumed to be the Navy from the camera. Near the end of the video, this is partially confirmed by the collection of ships that emerged from the smoke, a cruiser and several destroyers making their way towards shore.

What they were fighting, though, made the news infinitely worse.

"Has anyone confirmed that this was an Aircraft Carrier?"

"Well, we are talking about a distant video of a shipgirl, here, meaning it's almost impossible to tell anything besides a silhouette. Now, I'm not a ship expert, but it seems the internet folks who know what they're talking about are sure it's an aircraft carrier of some kind."

A carrier. Austin didn't know what kind of range those had, but if one was in the Olympic Peninsula he was definitely inside it.

"Do we even know if this is an abyssal?"

"No. First off, an Abyssal Carrier couldn't just sail this close to the coast without being interdicted by the Navy. They aren't that difficult to detect. That doesn't rule them out, however."

Of course it didn't. The East Coast was supposed to be untouchable. Hawaii was supposed to be untouchable. Then, they suddenly weren't. An abyssal ship managing to sail this close to shore shouldn't have surprised him.

"Right. Now, there are a lot of people who claim that there is some sort of connection between Abyssals and Shipgirls. There have been books, videos, and articles where people have drawn parallels between known Abyssal Warlords, or 'Princesses,' and the shipgirls many nations are relying to keep themselves safe. There are a few issues with this theory, such as the sheer number of abyssals out there, but for some people this video would be enough to confirm this theory with them."

He wasn't so sure about that. Alton had seen abyssals in person, and knew what they could do. Shipgirls, somehow being secret abyssals? Frankly, the idea was insulting. The two speakers seemed skeptical about this as well, fortunately.

"What if Abyssals and Shipgirls are two sides of the same coin, and under the proper circumstances, it's possible to 'flip' an abyssal, or shipgirl in this case, to their other state? What if Abyssal-ism is infective, and the carrier in this video was one of our defenders who'd succumbed to some sort of corruption?"

No matter, the why wasn't important to him. He needed to build a backup plan in case this turned out to be legitimate. Move further inland, maybe? Mable would hate to move again, but if survival was at state...

"Maybe we're looking at just a renegade shipgirl, which would be terrifying, but it would mean an Abyssal isn't loose in Washington."

"Remember that at this point, all we've been seeing is some wild speculation. This could be a live-fire training exercise, for all we know."

"Or, it could be a hoax."

Maybe. Alton knew what happened when you assumed the best of a situation. He was in the danger area, which meant he'd have to prepare for the worst. He'd have to check the property prices around Denver, when he got home.

"Right. Bottom line is, there's an interesting developing story over in Washington, that I haven't seen anyone else covering. If you live in the area, don't panic, let me emphasize that, but if you do see anything unusual or paranormal, please let us know."

Unusual or paranormal, huh?

A memory from earlier in the day returned to him unbidden, and his right hand started to ache. That had certainly been unusual, but-

No. That was stupid. impossible!

Elizabeth was strange, sure, but Alton knew what an Abyssal looked like. How they acted, and while she was strange, his excitable coworker didn't have any similarities with those monsters who'd conquered his home.

Did she?

Elizabeth was strong. Suspiciously so, and she didn't seem to tire out after hours of hard labor. She'd called it boring, which Alton guessed it technically was, but he couldn't think of any normal human who'd call it boring first, and not tiring, at least. Didn't she say she was from the Pacific, too?

Alton suddenly realized that the car ahead of him had stopped, and he hadn't noticed. In a moment of panic, he jammed his feet into the clutch and brake, the old car's tires squeaking a little as he jolted to a stop.

He- he needed to pull over for a bit.

Say whatever you like about Andrew Jackson, I find the idea that the Federal Reserve placed the face of one of its predecessor's greatest enemy on the 20 pretty funny. What a clever way to spite someone.

Back on topic, I feel pretty proud about getting this chapter out as fast as I did. I originally meant to stick another scene on the end, here, but decided against it given this chapter's length. In my plans Alton shouldn't have caught on to Trinitite this quickly, but several months of playing hide and seek with Ru-classes has turned him into a paranoid little bastard, and poor Trin hasn't been as inconspicuous as she probably would have liked, so here we are. After a few weekend chapters, the real cat-and-mouse game begins.

Hopefully I can figure out how I'm going to write that before I get to it...