Legends

Chapter 50~ An Absolute BLEEP Show!

The hurricane had ensured New Jersey and her sisters were a full two days behind the Taffies. Even with the Iowa's putting on the yeet speed, there was simply no way they would reach the west coast in time to help the destroyers deal with the threat. So, it was with a mix of relief and concern that Johnston spotted Washington's masts on the horizon. The North Carolina-class had made good time getting down here and fell into formation with the destroyers quickly encircling her, guns pointed outwards ready for any threats to appear.

As nice as it was to operate with a battleship, Johnston would be the first to admit that having Washington here was a mixed blessing. On one hand, her guns would be a real boon. On the other, no one knew how pregnancy would affect her fighting ability or if it was even a good idea to have her anywhere near a fight in the first place. There was a reason Williams put her on light duty.

The Taffies had escorted their convoy to a pre-designated point outside Canadian waters where their northern counterparts took over, freeing them to run south to confront the Abyssal threat. Washington sailed at reduced speed along the coast and met up with them off San Francisco. It took them all of five minutes to realize they were too late. They could see the smoke columns from 50 miles out.

Washington was already considering her options. "Girls, stay close to me." She ordered, knowing that Johnston was thinking about charging in there. The answering huff from the destroyer told her she was right in her guess. "Heerman, I want you on point! Let me know if there's anything more out there that requires my attention. Hoel, ears out for subsurface threats. Johnston and Sammy B, watch my six." Johnston didn't look happy about the arrangement and Washington knew that she wanted to take the lead in sic'ing these bastards, but she was also a professional and knew this was no time to argue.

The battleship narrowed her eyes. "It's time to kill some Abyssals!"

The Abyssal force consisted of three large battleships, two pocket battleships, four heavy cruisers, five light cruisers, and six destroyers. The kanmusu were hopelessly outmatched. But they had little choice if they wanted to save the people of Los Angeles. Washington was counting on the enemy's desire to kill humans to blind them from her approach which worked until she was about 20 miles out. It would take them precious minutes to reorganize their fleet so their battleships could face this new threat. Time which Washington took advantage of to close to 18 miles.

It was still pretty long range, but Washington was confident her radar guided fire directors could handle it. Her forward rifles let loose a salvo and she was rewarded with seeing an instantaneous straddle on one of the cruisers screening the battleships. But she wasn't after the small boys just yet. The battleships were the biggest threat seeing as their guns could reach her at this range.

Case in point, shells splashed down around her and Washington responded immediately by engaging in a zig zag pattern. The maneuver would completely throw off the aim of most ships but the American radar master race was a thing for a reason! She adjusted her guns accordingly. At this angle, she could bring her aft turret to bear as well and a full broadside was sent downrange.

This time, the enemy felt it. The lead cruiser went up in a massive explosion as her magazine detonated and one of the battleships took hits to her superstructure. But it wasn't all good news. Washington was forced to zig again when the Abyssals returned fire and just barely avoided a hit to her radar mast. As it was, the shell landed in the water next to her, pelting her with shrapnel as it exploded. Minor scratches at best.

Washington shifted her rudders the opposite direction, following Heerman's lead as the destroyer was guiding where Washington needed to go and when she needed to maneuver. Whenever she turned, so did the battleship and the rest of the Taffies. All the while the distance continued to close and the more it did, the more accurate Washington's gunnery would become. But the same also held true for the enemy.

Meanwhile, in the Port of Los Angeles itself, almost everything that was either somehow related to the operation of the port, large, or filled with fuel had been pounded. Areas of the harbor itself were burning as oil settled on the water's surface, spreading its sheet of flame across the bay. People were in a panic, running nearly every which way but there was one general direction that nearly everyone had decided upon, uphill!

I say nearly everyone because a few resilient souls chose to stay. Whether that was because they couldn't flee or had balls of steel and chose not to was irrelevant. Their fates were now intertwined. Jake Ryan was one of these souls. Iowa had been hit in the first wave of the attack. Long range gunnery did a number on her superstructure. What remained of her second funnel was now lying in pieces across her aft deck and with the rest of the Abyssal attack cutting power to the city, that limited the firefighting capability.

And still the barrages kept coming. The second wave went for the line of tankers tied up at the piers across the channel from the battleship. Jake had no time to run or hide. He could only duck down behind his battleship's second turret as the shells made their impact. The explosion was absolutely massive. So large in fact that it sent the 45,000 ton battleship rolling hard against her pier, smashing in her starboard side while her port side was blasted by the shockwave. Where once Jake was looking at the turret, he found himself staring at the sky instead as he was thrown clear.

Iowa's superstructure impacted the dock with a terrible thud as the battleship lay capsized on her starboard side, bleeding and broken. And as for Jake, he wasn't far behind. He hit his head on something on his way sliding across her deck and was destined for a grave between his ship and what remained of the pier. But then his direction suddenly changed which made his impact with the ground no less unpleasant or fatal. But at least he got to see he'd hoped and dreaded for in equal measure. There was no mistaking it. That form, the same beefed up look as her sisters. Iowa's spirit had arrived at last. She hovered over him, calling his name repeatedly with increasing desperation. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't speak or even move. He did however, smile at her and he kept that smile until his vision went dark and he saw no more.

Iowa was trembling as she reached down and closed Jake's lifeless eyes. When the blast hit, she'd summoned all her strength. All her energy into breaking free of that icy hell, even as Lutjins or whatever he was frowned in what she assumed was disapproval. She'd tried her hardest to save Jake and that wasn't enough. Slowly she stood and when she turned to the sea, her tremble had ceased. Now her blue gaze held nothing but fury. She adjusted her red cap that bore her name in bold golden letters with the appropriate scrambled eggs around the bill. Her rigging came to her effortlessly, even as she broke into a sprint.

Washington was experiencing deja vu she could honestly live without! For her, Guadalcanal had been mostly a cakewalk although South Dakota had had more than a few things to say to her afterwards. She'd brushed her off but now Washington felt she could honestly understand what her fellow battleship had been saying. Already, she'd taken hits to her forward gun directors and two of her secondary batteries were out as well.

Ahead of her, Heerman turned sharply to port. So sharply in fact that Washington was forced to throw her port engines into reverse to turn as well and avoiding hitting her.

"Torpedoes!" Johnston called, explaining her sister's action.

Washington adjusted her rudders a little more when she saw the distinctive white trails on the water. It wasn't enough, however and Washington was reintroduced to the pain of a torpedo strike. The blow instantly knocked out her starboard shafts and left her rudders dragging uselessly. Her speed was instantly cut in half, forcing her murderball escorts to take closer order around her.

"Washington, talk to me!" Johnston demanded.

Washington had to take a minute to find her voice. "I understand now." She rasped.

"Understand what?"

"What getting Bismarked feels like!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, they both chuckled. But Washington's humor wasn't enough to spare her from what came next. Sailing at a reduced speed made her an easier target and with just 10 miles separating her from the Abyssals, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Washington could see the three battleships that remained readying to fire, and she knew what she had to do.

Without saying a word to her escorts, she used her good port rudder to its full potential, turning straight onto the enemy fleet and opening the throttle on her two good shafts. She put 100 yards between herself and the Taffies before they responded but by then it was too late. 16-inch rounds from the battleships and 8-inch rounds from the cruisers pummeled her. The smaller shells tore into what remained of her superstructure, knocking out the last of her fire control radars for her secondary guns and leaving her with just the Mark 3 backup for her main battery. But it was the 16-inch projectiles that did the most damage. At this range, they had hardly slowed down from their initial velocity and several punched through her citadel and exploded. Her port side engine room was annihilated, her starboard fuel tanks ruptured spilling their oil into the sea. The loss of her forward momentum sent Washington's bow plunging into the surf before it came back up as she settled on her knees.

"WASHINGTON!!" Heerman was at her side in an instant, hoses at the ready to put out the fires on the battleship's decks while Hoel sent damage control parties over to aid Washington's own crew whose ranks had been decimated by the battle. And the plucky Fletcher had one more thing to say while she was at it. "Johnston!" Heerman's voice was calm and collected and it radiated fury. "Sink them!"

"On it! Sammy B, with me!" Johnston replied as though she was actually going to wait for orders. Heerman could order her to stay put and she wouldn't listen. The little destroyer was furious! These bastards had struck her charge and she was not going to stand for it. Not now! Not ever!!

Sammy B was right alongside as the two dodged and weaved as they tried to get within 5 miles of the Abyssal force. It was like a repeat of Samar only this time, it wasn't desperation that lead the two tin cans into a fight they had no business being in. It was pure rage and a desire for vengeance!

Fortunately for the Abyssals, neither ship got close enough to unleash their personal brand of hell upon them. But it wasn't like the alternative was much better. For it was then that Iowa announced her presence with a salvo of 16 inch shells that instantly vaporized the last heavy battleship. Only the two pocket battleships, four cruisers, and 3 destroyers remained. Washington had done her part, putting in work against a fleet she had never stood a chance against to begin with. Now it was Iowa's turn to finish them off!

"Taffy 3, disengage." Iowa's voice crackled over their radios. She barely came through on their sets. None of her long-range communications were working so she was reduced to the handheld which could barely cover the distance. "I have this."

Johnston was tempted for a moment to ignore those orders and go in anyway but Sammy B tugged on her sleeve and shook her head. With great reluctance, the destroyer disengaged but she didn't turn away from the enemy. Rather, she parallelled them. Calling out Iowa's fire and helping the battleship land every shell right where it was meant to go.

Each Iowa-class battleship had their own unique skill. The one thing they were good at above all others. Wisconsin was an expert with the missiles. Missouri was the textbook leader, ensuring everyone was where, did what, and handled everything the way they were supposed to. New Jersey was the master at damage control as her awards reflected. And Iowa, well Iowa was the sniper of the four! Her skill with long range gunnery was unparalleled among battleships and it showed.

The Abyssals never even saw the enemy that sank them. Only three destroyers and a light cruiser remained to run due west at flank speed. Johnston was tempted to go after them but at this point, she'd only be chasing her own ass whooping and this time, she disengaged for real.

The destroyer rendezvoused with Iowa just before returning to Washington's position. The smaller battleship had gone completely to her knees and was relying on Hoel and Heerman to keep her steady in the light swell while her own hands tried in vain to staunch the flow of blood coming from her midsection.

"Dammit Wash!" Iowa shook her head as she knelt beside her, taking Hoel's place.

The destroyer backed off alongside Johnston, her arms covered in Washington's blood. "She's got flooding in both engine rooms. A fire in her forward magazine. And without doubt she's lost her child." She whispered and Johnston stiffened, suddenly hating the Abyssals even more.

The pair watched as Washington whispered something in Iowa's ear which caused the other battleship to shake her head resolutely. "No absolutely not!" She growled. "You're going back to Bremerton even if I have to carry you there!"

She certainly gave it her best shot. Although Iowa had to be running on fumes by this point, she was too focused to care. She took Washington under tow with Hoel and Heerman rafted on the port side and Sammy B and Johnston on starboard to provide some stability. With the Taffies acting as outriggers, the ride wasn't as bad but Washington was still taking on water. Damage control was doing its best but time wasn't on anyone's side.

Iowa was pushing her engines to their limits as she made 15 knots up the coast. Even so, it took them two days to reach Cape Flattery and by this point it was clear that their borrowed time was running short. Washington was so low in the water now that the swell was nearly lapping at the numbers on her bow. Iowa could barely make 5 knots now just pulling her and that was at full throttle. She'd sent out a call for support and the Coast Guard at Neah Bay responded but they were still a few hours away. Their small cutters didn't have the range to travel far which had forced the fleet to make the run up the coast to them. And now it looked like that decision was going to cost them.

Iowa took a deep breath, stifling her trembling flanks. She'd tuned out her supply chief's increasingly desperate rants long ago and even as her engineer joined the chorus of "stop this before you drop!" she ignored them. She faced the Taffies. "Johnston, head into the Straits and meet up with the Coasties as they come out." She ordered. "Sammy B go with her. Hoel and Heerman, I want you to go on ahead and inspect the Hole in the Wall. Tell me if its clear. I need a shorter route."

"What and leave you alone?" Johnston, predictably, was the first to protest.

And Iowa was in no mood to argue. There were some things that these kiddos didn't need to see and she wasn't about to explain things to them either. "Just do what I say!" She snapped.

Once they had gone, Iowa put slack in the towline and turned around to come alongside Washington, providing the same support the Taffies had. Washington was barely coherent. Her valiant crew had done everything they could to stem the flooding, but it wasn't going to be enough. The other battleship's head rested on her shoulder, eyes closed as she focused on just breathing which was becoming increasingly difficult as her boilers met cold seawater. "I want you to take them Iowa." She rasped without opening them. From several portholes came crewmen ready for transfer.

"I will." Iowa promised. "They will always have a place with me. What you did, was the bravest thing I've ever seen!" She said.

"I doubt I need to tell you why I did it." Washington replied. No she didn't. Iowa was well aware what losing her favorite murderballs a second time would do to New Jersey. Washington likely knew even better, having served alongside her as kanmusu for over three years.

"Johnston wants to make you a Taffy." Iowa said, trying to find ways to keep Washington talking. As long as she was talking, she was alive. She was just trying to hold onto the hope that maybe the Coast Guard could get here in time.

"Kind of her." Washington murmured. She struggled with something in her hands for a moment before successfully sliding the ring on her left hand off her ring finger and handing it to Iowa. "I trust you know what to do with this." She said.

"Of course." Iowa rasped, her throat tight. Damn it all! Why did it have to be like this? Why her?!

"Hey. Look at me." Washington's hand came up to rest on her cheek and Iowa reluctantly lifted her blue eyes to meet the other battleship's. "Don't blame yourself." She asked.

"Kind of hard not to." Iowa admitted.

"So much like your sister." Washington sighed. "It's alright. I accept this."

"I don't." Iowa shook her head.

"I know. But promise me one thing." Washington asked and Iowa steeled herself.

"Anything." She breathed.

"You are America's hope now. You and your sisters. It is not just this war that is in your hands now. But everything that comes after. Please, do not forget that."

Iowa nodded, keeping a tight hold on Washington as she pulled her in to kiss the top of her head. She wanted to scream and rant and rave about how this wasn't fair! But she would honor Washington's wish and keep silent. Right now, she needed to be strong. Both for herself and her dying cousin. The two stayed like that for several minutes with Washington slipping even further into the sea.

Finally, Washington pulled back. "I am ready." She said.

Iowa brushed her hand across her face one last time. "Tell Davy Jones you want your money back." She ordered and Washington laughed. Without saying another word, the larger battleship dropped her towline for good.

Several hours later, she would report in to Bremerton via the Coast Guard's long-range radio and tell Admiral Williams of all that had transpired. Then she would find the showers where she cried and screamed for an hour straight before exhaustion forced her to find a bunk. Food wasn't even close to anywhere on her mind. When she woke, it was straight to the gun range. Nevermind the unrepaired damage to her second turret that had limited her ability to fight. Nevermind the missing radars, damaged radios and the hits she had taken fighting the Abyssals. All that was pushed to the side as Iowa vented her feelings again and again on inanimate targets. It was all she could do!