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Chapter Text

Northern Solomon Sea area
21:00 Hours
February 19, 2028
Late into Operation Songbird

Songbird had been a complete failure. That had been the thought running through Helena’s mind as the remnants of the once-mighty fourth fleet limped back to the base at Guadalcanal. Out of the hundred-eighty-nine strong fleet that went in, only forty-three heavily damaged ships came out.

Helena continued to reflect the numbers lost, as she was jolted out of her thoughts by another shell splashing into the water. She looked back to see another one of those thrice-damned abyssal destroyers quickly loading another four-inch shell. The ship looked all sorts of wrong to the meek cruiser. It took the form of a twisted-up Wickes class destroyer, all four funnels ending with jagged pieces of blackened steel protruding outwards.

Suddenly, Atlanta fell out of line, quickly turning about to meet her opponent, flashing her considerable broadside of DP guns. Helena turned to face her friend, seeing the determined face on the injured AA cruiser.

“Hey, ‘Lena, take good care of my sisters for me.” Atlanta spoke woodenly over the TBS.

And like that, over the seaward horizon, appeared the silhouette of another abyssal. Another came, and another, striding through the dark waters. All that stood between the beleaguered force of KANSEN survivors, and these alien abominations lay the exhausted cruiser, Atlanta. Slowly, her turrets trained about on the nearest offender. Then, with a deafening roar and whoosh of spray, her 5”/38s barked to life.

Moving swiftly through the waters, guns blazing as she came, she brought down an abyssal.

All around Helena, she heard the cheering of other shipgirls as they continued to retreat.

The abyssals sped up, releasing thick clouds of black smoke, but Atlanta limped on cutting down another abyssal. And, almost instantly, the other abyssals raised their guns on the now lone Atlanta, and detonated Atlanta’s valiant heart.

Helena cried out to her friend, watching the flashes of cannon shot begin to dwindle once more.

Like that, with the smoke of battle clearing, over the thousands of graves and waves defiled, slowly disappearing was the sight of Atlanta, barely lucid, saluting towards the disappearing fleet.

However, despite the outcome of the fight, the fleet had reached the misty horizon, reaching the safe harbor at Guadalcanal, but Atlanta was now gone forever, taking with her the last sliver of hope.

The night sky was lit by green flashes, flare following flare. Now, there was no-one and nothing left to fight. The Solomon Sea belonged to the Abyssals and the Sirens.

Chapter Text

Guadalcanal Naval base
10:00 Hours
February 20, 2028

Everyone stood in sorrowful silence, as they were led towards the “drydocks”.

The adrenaline of the moment subsided to pain as Helena realized the true extent to her injuries.

While she wasn’t as bad-off as her friends in the Vanguard force, she was still substantially injured.

In the ensuing cruiser brawl, she had been hit around eighteen times by shells and torpedoes of all calibers. Her forward two primary batteries were completely knocked out, one of her two rudders had been jammed, and her superstructure was a mess.

She was led by one of the medical officers to a drydock area, where fairies could begin the hard work of restoring the cruiser.

Right beside her, she saw her adopted “younger sister”, San Juan.

The younger cruiser seemed completely distraught after the events of last night. Clasping her hands, San Juan closed her eyes, looking up.

“Padre Nuestro, que estás en los cielos, Santificado sea tu Nombre, Venga tu reino, Hágase tu voluntad, En la tierra como en el cielo, Danos hoy el pan de este dia, y perdona nuestras deudas, como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores, y no nos dejes caer en la tentación, sino que líbranos del malo. Amen.” San Juan started shaking, tears welling in her eyes.

“Dear father in heaven, it has been only eight hours since I have prayed to you. Since then, my comrades and I have been through a great ordeal. S-since then, I’ve lost two sisters, and many dear friends. To you, I pray that my remaining friends, and family may receive some form of rest, that you may provide comfort and care, and that we may receive a reprieve from all of this madness and death that continues to drive our lives.” by now, more sobs were starting to break out from the usually composed cruiser.

She began to motion her fingers, finishing her prayer. “En el nombre del Padre, el Hijo, y el Espíritu Santo. Amen.”, and after that, the well of tears broke. The memories of seeing her twin sister turn back to try and hold off the oncoming horde of abyssals in some H.G. Wells style of foolish last-stand, before being cut down like a piece of grain.

This, mixed with the sight of watching the most energetic of her sisters get blown to smithereens within the opening moments of their second engagement, had left San Juan as an emotional wreck.

San Juan herself had been terribly mauled, only being saved by the bravery of one of her destroyers deciding to pull off some Futile final stand to buy time for her.

The light cruiser sobbed even harder thinking about her DesFlot. Out of the twenty-seven destroyers that she had led into battle, only five had made it out.

She continued to reflect, lost in her thoughts.

‘What a waste. What a god-damn waste’

She was pulled out of her thoughts by someone clearing her throat.

The grieving cruiser looked to her left, just noticing Helena, looking at her in somber silence.

“I-I’m sorry for your loss, Juanie, I really am.” the blue haired cruiser whispered, holding out a hand.

San Juan reluctantly looked at the gesture, before forcing a smile on her face.

“T-thanks, ‘Lena.” she finally took Helena’s hand, squeezing it before drifting off to sleep.
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Admiral’s office

Admiral Isabella Santiago Sullenly picked up the report, shaking her head. In the forty-eight hours since Operation Songbird had been launched, the entire offensive had been a massive failure.

A majority of her shipgirls had been lost in combat, control of the sea was roughly in the hands of Abyssal and Siren forces, and to top it all off, the last supply shipment from Australia proved to have been insufficient in terms of medical supplies.

She stared at the paperwork in front of her, hands shaking.

It had been a good five minutes of just woodenly staring, before she slammed her fists on the desk.

Tears streaked her face, as she looked at the casualty report.