Legends

Omake: Daughters

This is totally not-canon but the idea was too adorable for me to pass up!

There were days where battleship USS New Jersey just liked to relax. Days where she didn't have to be somewhere pounding Abyssals into scrap. Days where she wasn't showing Mushi-tits precisely who the dominant battleship in bed was! Days where she wasn't expected to herd the Taffies out of the trouble they inevitably got themselves into.

On days like that, which were exceptionally rare at this point, she was content to relax in a lawn chair with a book and soak up the sun. So what if she couldn't get a tan? (well maybe in twenty years but that was Mo's problem). Next to her sat a half drunk class of pink whiskey punch. Not the most tough girl drink in the world. But she could blame Ryan for that one. Somehow, through Sparkly Magical Shipgirl Bullshit (TM), the drink (which was also sometimes renamed after a hockey player with the same name) got connected with her former curator. She'd given up trying to figure that one out years ago.

Anyways, her downtime was suddenly interrupted by another body laying on top of hers. New Jersey sighed. "Mushi, I thought I told you-" Whatever she was going to scold the Japanese battleship with suddenly died in her throat as she looked over the top of her book and realized that the other girl on top of her was very much not Musashi.

She was an American, if her uniform was anything to go by. She was dressed in the blue camo that had dropped out of style a few years back in place of those horrid greens that looked like someone had designed four pixels. On them she bore a pair of dolphins that were painted red. Shad the same strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes but where New Jersey was buffed up like a wrestler on steroids with a chiseled stomach hard enough to grate cheese (true story! Ask Jane sometime!), this girl was skinny with a chest a full size smaller (thank goodness! Finally, someone with a more reasonable rack!), wide hips and long narrow legs that likely hid more power than their size would first suggest. Put the two side by side and one could almost say the other girl was the battleship's daughter. Which, given that New Jersey had identified her as a certain Virginia-class submarine and the embroidery on the other girl's hat, was not entirely out of the question. Especially since she had wrapped her arms around the battleship and had no intentions of letting go.

"USS New Jersey, unhand me." Battleship New Jersey growled.

"Mamma." Submarine New Jersey squeaked.

New Jersey set her book down on the table even as she blushed. She was a momboat to a hoard of insane Fletcher-class destroyers, although she would never admit that outloud. But this- this was entirely different! She brought her own arms up and patted the other girl on the head. It had the desired effect as after all, all shipgirls, even submarines, loved headpats!

Soft Virginia-class purring could be heard as the battleship New Jersey stroked her daughter's head.

.................................................

Missouri wondered through Sasebo, considering how to best fill her time. She didn't have much to do which wasn't completely unusual for her. A little bit of boredom was to be expected but this much- now that was a challenge to fix. She wasn't hungry, her sisters were off doing their own thing which good for them but it still left Mo in a bit of a tight spot. And she'd just done her obligatory trip to Akhibara. (And endured Wisconsin's antics throughout but that's a story for another day).

So, the battleship was left to walk around on her own terms. Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it, her concerns about boredom were suddenly alleviated as a small form collided with her stern and wrapped its arms around her waste. Missouri's radar went into overdrive. How had she not detected this intruder? The minimal return, even at such close range, gave her the answer.

"Unknown submarine, please unhand my stern before I am forced to engage my screws and shake you off forcibly. And trust me, you will not enjoy that." She growled.

"Sorry mamma." Said a soft voice and the little form shuffled around into view.

Missouri was instantly struck by the similarities they shared. The other girl was a head shorter and skinner. Her skin wasn't quite as tan and her hair, while black, was not braided or dreadlocked but straight. However they both bore the same style of shades and when she pushed hers back, Mo could see that her eyes were the identical shade of red. Her uniform was a simple blue polo T-shirt that was tucked in and black pants. But her ballcap spoke volumes more than the ship form Missouri was currently seeing.

"H-How?" Battleship Missouri asked.

"You tell me, mamma." Submarine Missouri replied. She made to hug the battleship again and this time, Missouri accepted it.

..............................................

Wisconsin loved her job. She loved fighting Abyssals and maybe letting her temper loose a little. But she also equally loved her shore time. Akhibara had been a whirlwind but now it was on to something a little more close to home. She'd discovered that her growing viewership, poor things, did not all know how to play World of Warships. So the battlewagon took it upon herself to do as close to a weekly set of livestreams that she could, to show them how to tier up. Currently, she was on Tier 2.

"So, should I play with Olympia or Aurora?" She asked her viewers.

An unexpected voice from the corner of her room answered her. "I'd go with Aurora. Not only does this game totally unfairly favor the commies but Olympia can't turn worth a damn and her torpedo protection is shit!"

Surprised, Wisconsin whirled around in her chair to see a girl who looked stunningly like her. She had copper red hair that was held back in a headband, olive skin, and striking blue eyes. Her sweater was black instead of Wisconsin's typical red and she had the same style shorts as the battleship. Wisconsin could see instantly that she was a shipgirl and a submarine at that although the battleship hadn't seen that type of class before. She was also just as stacked as the battleship even though she wasn't quite as buffed out.

"Um, hello. Sorry, should I come back?" The other girl turned to leave.

Wisconsin suddenly felt a surge of overprotectiveness. "No, please stay. I'm sorry you just startled me." She said. "What's your name dear?"

The other girl stiffened and blinked back tears. "SSBN-827, USS Wisconsin."

As soon as she said that, the battleship understood. "Come here, sweetie." She cooed and the submarine all but jumped in her mamma's lap, cuddling close. Battleship Wisconsin could care less about the comments being posted in her livestream right now although a few of her viewers needed to learn a thing or two about tact and lewd language.

............................................

For one Jake Ryan, it was a typical day on the Battleship Iowa. And by typical, I mean collecting hats off every conceivable exposed surface and even a few non conceivable ones. I mean really, how does one get a fucking hat on the goddamn minesweeping equipment. That was supposed to be underwater for Pete's sake!

Anyway, Ryan was catching his breath after the latest round of hat roundup when his ship gave a slight shudder. It was subtle but he was experienced enough to feel it. He dismissed it as a mere nuisance, perhaps the wake from a freighter going by or something, but then it happened again. And again. They weren't strong shudders. In fact, the average visitor would hardly have noticed. But Ryan most certainly did and he knew better by now than to ignore them.

"What are you up to, Iowa?" He muttered.

The battleship didn't answer verbally, not that she could in any case. But when he looked aft he thought he saw that same blonde woman on the fantail, the one he somehow already knew was Iowa's spirit, holding another girl close to her chest. The other girl was nearly identical in looks, just missing the hat and she bore a pair of gold dolphins on her chest. The pair disappeared before Ryan could get a second look at him, leaving the museum volunteer stunned and confused.

Well below his feet and 40 feet underwater, the submarine USS Iowa SSN-797, pressed herself up against her battleship predecessor's keel. It wasn't easy maneuvering in such a tight space with limited depth, but this Iowa shared her namesake's determination. Both ships shuddered as the submarine latched herself on and settled in her new home.