A/N: It's short. It's quick. But I don't need a solid ten thousand words to make you hate me. :D

—/—\—/—\

Captain Paul Young stood aboard the bridge of the U.S.S. New Jersey, looking out over the Mediterranean a moment before looking to his XO. "How we looking, Lieutenant?" He asked as he leaned against the railing.

"Lookin good Captain." He reported as he looked to the man. Captain Young nodded in response at that as he looked out over the dark waters before him.

The Time was rolling around twenty hundred hours, he watched as water kissed the bow of his ship, Jersey's slender bow slicing through waves without a second thought. The bridge was illuminated by the light of the consoles, being manned by sailors. He looked over, finding the odd light here and there of New Jersey's destroyer screen made up of both American and Italian ships. Off the port side, he could just barely make out the form of the Andrea Doria sailing alongside Jersey.

Of course, just because that was the only one he could make out didn't mean that wasn't the only one.

New Jersey's Task Force was comprised of nine ships, the old girl herself included in that count. Besides the Black Dragon herself, there was seven American destroyers and their one Italian compatriot. He watched the lights on the ship signal every so often before looking back out over the ocean in the night of the Mediterranean.

"Good night to be out, ain't it Jersey." He said to himself as his eyes wandered over his ship's guns.

Six-seven years ago, a Captain actively speaking to a ship so openly would've caused a lot of heads to turn.

But now given that the world associated Hope with the forms of former Imperial Japanese Navy warships given human form, a ship's crew talking directly to their ship was a normal occurrence.

The crew loved the old girl.

And in turn, she loved them.

She'd seen them through four years of this war.

He hoped that she'd continue.

—/—\—

The Mediterranean seemed to quake beneath them, waves simply rolling away as as they smashed through them, her grin widened by the second as they made course for their target. Her lust for blood, for carnage was peaking. And it would be sated this night, amongst the cool Mediterranean winds.

She couldn't keep the grin from her lips even if she'd tried.

The fleet of only seventeen glided over the waves in near silence, making pace for their target as they steeled themselves. The pocket of fourteen Abyssal Empresses screened for the three following behind, Southern herself smack dab in the middle of the fleet as Atlantic and Indian followed along on either side.

The three of them hadn't been hunting since the War began with Atlantic's sacking of New York. The world watched as she'd burned it to the ground, snuffing millions from their lives.

But now, they were back at it again.

With more than a suiting enough target In mind.

The three spared no words, they spared no emotion gestures, they spared no looks. They'd come to feed. And they would feast proudly. On the fear. On the hatred. On the loss.

On the blood.

Atlantic licked her lips once again, her tongue silently slipping over her jagged, razor sharp teeth.

As she did so, her guns, that hadn't sung once this war.

Neither had Indian's.

Nor had Southern's.

That was all about to change.

She barely help the laugh that slipped from her lips as her guns began to raise from the water's below her, fifteen fifteen inch rifles, ready to sing their part in this war as Atlantic watched the horizon.

And then came Indian's twelve seventeen inch long rifles.

And then Southern's ten sixteen inch rifles.

Atlantic only cackled.

—/—\—

Valeria Sonferi could only watch, her gaze tied to the display before her, watching the real time feed of the fleet of seventeen Abyssals make their way towards New Jersey's Task Force.

And they couldn't make contact.

"Any success?" Valeria called without tearing her gaze away from the feed, almost afraid that if she looked away for even an instant, that it would be over before she could do a single thing on her part. But the longer they'd watched and the longer they'd tried to run any of the Abyssals on screen by any sort of database, they were coming up shockingly short on relevant information.

"No." Came her reply. "Something is keeping us quiet and we can't figure out what it is. The best guess is that it's the fleet we're keeping tabs on." Came a Reply. "They don't want us squawking."

"Can we do anything to get a message to New Jersey and her Task?" Valeria Called for questioning.

"No." Came another reply.

Valeria cursed her luck as she refused to tear her gaze away from the Feed before her, almost afraid that if she did, it'd be all over.

This was on her watch.

The New Jersey and her task force, their crews, their sailors, they fell to her.

She had allied forces depending on her.

And she could feel it slipping from her grasp.

"Can we do anything!?" She demanded, finally tearing her gaze away from the feed before her as she whipped around, turning to look for anyone that would give her an answer that she wanted to hear. "Do we have any ships in the area? Allied or otherwise that could lend a hand?" She called for an answer.

But no one did.

Apparently, they were too focused on the feed to say anything.

Valeria whirled around to focus on the feed.

And she paled.

The fleet of seventeen was still present on screen.

But unlike the fleet that had been there before, three of them had changed drastically.

They weren't even humanlike anymore.

All she could see were ships.

Battleships. Guns of blackened steel as they belched a dark smog into the sky. And as she watched, as the feed focused in on the middle ship, the one who had supposedly been at New York at the start of this god forsaken war, she swore she thought she saw someone.

Something.

Move on board that vessel.

She was unable to look away as she watched the vessel. Long and slender, it's jagged knife like bow cut through the Mediterranean with ease, the waves parting for it without hesitation. It's guns, settled into three triple turrets, with a double turret settled on each, seemed to glisten under the clear sky.

That darkened, twisted steel.

Three stacks belched continuous plumes of smog into the night sky, almost blurring the image somewhat.

It's secondaries bristled, packed tightly to each side of the ship.

The one off it's port-side was even slimmer than the first, five double turrets spotted down the length of the hull.

The one however off the starboard side of the middle vessel was not slim in anyway, shape, or form however.

The ship was wider than the other two, built bigger and larger. It's bow wasn't slim like the other two, this ship was built for brawling.

The four triple turrets the ship sported said that much.

Valeria could only stare in silence.

—/—\—

Captain Young held a moment before looking to his XO. "Status of the rest?" He asked.

"All green sir. In fact, the John Finn keeps trying to get us into a race." He reported. "Captain Young seems sure of it." He said. Captain Young rolled his eyes at that, smirking somewhat. Picking up the handset before him, he held a moment before speaking.

"Captain Young, what's this I hear about a race?" He inquired with a smirk. It took a second before he got a response, Captain Young coming back a moment later, a woman's voice making itself known.

"Well look here Captain. Sure, Big J's got some speed. But Johnny here's never felt better. Why, you feeling afraid?" She asked over the channel with what Paul knew was a smirk.

He knew his twin sister far too well for her not to be.

"Those are some fighting words, Captain." Paul returned.

"A fight you'd lose." Kimberly Answered in return.

The Battleship below Paul seemed to shake with mirth for a moment, the man scowling at the floor in return. You were supposed to be on his side, Jersey.

"Damnit Jersey." Paul cursed quietly before bringing the Handset back to his mouth, opening to respond when suddenly.

"Captain." A sailor called, prompting Captain Young to lower the handset somewhat as he looked to the woman. "Something's popping on and off Radar." She reported.

"Bearing?" He asked.

"Don't have one. They're all over the place." She came back.

"Do we have-"

The question stopped mid-sentence as he watched Jersey's forward turrets begin to rotate starboard, their angles remaining the same as they did so.

Give me my guns. The whispery voice asked from behind him, ever so softly as he watched the long sixteens make their adjustments. After a moment, the Captain finally spoke.

"Sound General and tell weapons to get the guns loaded. But whatever they do, don't touch the aim." He said, prompting his XO to look at him with wild eyes.

"Sir?" He asked for confirmation.

"Jersey's gonna Show us a thing or two about shooting I'd think." He said in reply, watching as the Long Sixteen's below him finished their rotations, waiting for their shells.

As for the call for General, the Captain didn't have to wait long.

Jersey sounded it for him.

—/—\—

Atlantic cackled as her guns finished their final loading procedures, now simply waiting for their commands. She hadn't felt them fire once this war.

This was going to be fun.

She could hear as Southern's and Indian's guns finished not long after hers, the three Queens now ready for a bloodbath, pure and unrefined in all of it's glory.

—/—\—

Valeria found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the feed before her, her attention glued to the three sudden battleships before them.

And then they began to turn, as their guns began to rotate, all coming to bear at the same point.

"What're they doing?" One of the sailors behind her asked, almost sounding as if he was unsure. But as Valeria watched them now straighten out as their guns began to raise their angles, she knew there was no doubt in her mind.

"They're in range." She breathed out, watching as their guns went as still as stone.

And then the night vision of the Feed suddenly went white as the combined might of the three filled the sky with light, signaling the start of their brawl with the dragon.

—/—\—

The Battleship under neath them jerked to starboard, turning hard as her rudder went to full, Captain Young having to grip the railing before him to keep from falling over from the sudden turn.

"Those guns loaded, yet!?" He called for an answer as Jersey's bow cut through the waves before her easily.

"Affirmative!" Came the response.

But before he could respond in kind, a brief whistling tore through the air before shell fire rained down upon them, racking Jersey with ammunition. But she wasn't alone as the Andrea Doria caught two shells for her trouble, flames leaping into the air as the ship recoiled violently from the impact. He watched flames rise from the ship a moment before pulling the handset back to him. Waiting a moment, he didn't pull the handset to his mouth.

"Jersey!" He called.

And she spoke.

All nine of her long sixteens spoke in unison, igniting the dark, firing at targets that only she could really tell where they were. Abyssals were always tricky fuckers to try and catch on radar, but this was only confirming what he already knew. Bringing the handset up, he spared no time.

"Task Break! Break and fade! Whatever these fuckers are, they aren't playing around." He ordered, releasing the handset a moment as he looked out and over the dark horizon, searching for any sign of those that had fired the first salvo. Apparently however, Jersey knew exactly where to look for whoever it was as her guns had already dropped to their loading angles.

He watched as the form of the wounded Andrea Doria already turning away, fire still raging away on board. He wished them the best of luck silently before looking over the horizon.

"Captain? What's the plan?" His Xo asked as the man looked to his superior. Captain Young looked back at the man, who couldn't have been older than thirty five.

"We're gonna buy time for them to make a run for it and then we'll follow em up." He explain as he kept the handset firmly in his grasp.

Twenty seconds later, Jersey's long sixteens fired again, shaking the hull below their feet. Young closed his eyes a moment as they fired. After a moment, he opened his eyes as his Xo looked to him.

"Task is breaking. Well, Task is broken save one." He related to him. Captain Young frowned a minute before picking up the handset once again.

"Captain Young I gave you an order." He spoke.

"And given that it's a stupid order, we've elected to ignore it." She Answered back. "Big J ain't going into this alone, Captain. It's a decision of this crew, captain, and ship. Now we can't get a radar lock at all, but we've still got some nice, expensive, fancy looking missiles to throw their way. We're far from useless and no where near empty. You take the lead and we'll follow your wake." She came back. "Just make sure we don't over step you." Added as a final thought.

Captain Young cursed.

"Can you even track them?" He asked in return.

"We're gonna have to go off gun flashes. We can-"

The line went dead as another round of plunging fire tore through the U.S.S. John Finn, sending the destroyer up in flames as her keel broke below her, the ship recoiling immediately. Captain Young only watched a moment before clenching the handset, putting it back before him as Jersey's guns Answered in fury for the loss of her escort.

The John Finn had been at J's side since she'd been redeployed after her refits.

And she'd just been broken in a moment's notice.

Captain Young pushed the thought from his mind.

There'd be time for mourning later.

—/—\—

Atlantic grinned wildly.

She could hear the death, feel the fear from across the waves. The screaming of the damned and the voices of the dying.

And she relished it.

Her armor tanked the Dragon's incoming salvo, the Abyssal steel barely even flinching as it did so.

Her guns twitched.

New shells slammed into place.

And she fired, her cackling laughter following suit.

Her eleventh shell would go down in history.

As the one that killed the Dragon.

—/—\—

Valeria could only look on in silence as she watched the live feed.

No longer was it focused on the fleet of Abyssals, yet instead it was focused on the sight of the burning battleship that had taken a shell to her second turret, detonating her ammo stores, and had cratered the ocean around her as the explosion ballooned steel and ripped her apart from within.

All the live feed could make out was the white of the fire and the towers of smoke as the ship began to list hard, water already over coming the side of the ship.

Valeria closed her eyes as she took a breath.

They'd lost the New Jersey.

On her watch.

She had a feeling she wasn't going to get sleep for a while.