The sound of groaning metal, burning oil filled the air. The feeling of lives being snuffed out from under her rang up and down her hull. And as she watched her world slowly burn away under the sight of the rising sun, the woman who watched this happen made a solemn vow.

She would not falter. Not again.

Never again.

Her pride would not allow it. Her wounds would remind her always. Her will would reinforce it.

Never again.

Suddenly, the sounds of metal being welded together cut through the quiet air. The noise of work crews busily repairing what had been broken, torn, and bruised slowly undoing the damage. Things were fitted back into place. She could feel as her turrets once again found their home upon her deck. She could feel as her bridge once again brimmed with her crew. She could feel as her sailors, the ones she had sworn to protect but failed on that fateful December morning once again flocked to her for protection.

She could feel as the water began to pick up under her, slowly pulling her form back together completely. And with the roaring voices behind her, all calling out as one, she knew that she was once again needed.

General Quarters.

As her battered and broken hull fully came together, she knew she had been given a second chance. She knew that she would make use of it.

She would not falter. Not again.

Never again.