Hey y’all, deck maintenance here. No, it’s not WW2. The Chinese and the Russians have teamed up with the North Koreans, so now I’m getting sliced in half by a plane wing near Midway Atoll.

Yep. A whole plane wing. It doesn’t hurt, don’t worry.

Our Phalanxes are kinda amazing, y’know? The cute l’il turrets looked like someone got a minigun and gave it a big ol’ brain. The barrels go brrrrt and planes and missiles don’t ever reach us—until they do.

Y’know the problem? Not enough Phalanxes. 50 rounds per second be damned, it just wasn’t enough.

We’ve got all this fancy tech but it’s fuck all when the North Koreans just ask the Chinese to mass produce a bunch-a-missiles and tack it on ten rusty-ol’ Russian missile cruisers and send ‘em all this way.

We sent a squadron out and sank eight of ‘em in one go. Too bad they didn’t get the other two.

So the two that got through fired off 200 missiles at us, only 20 of which were guided and the rest were just dummies to keep the Phalanxes occupied. I didn’t even know you could fit that many on a dinghy tin can like that!

Couple of the missiles managed to hit the deck—which I just fucking cleaned yesterday, you fuckers—so we, of the veteran deck maintenance wing, got drafted into emergency fire control and I ended up holding the business end of the fire hose.

There was this huge-ass blaze on the side by the aircraft elevator. Now, most of us only had half a brain, but we all knew that a fire by the elevator that also kinda led down to the missile storage was pretty bad. My buddy told me some joke about my mother, whom I haven’t seen in years, but he said he saw last week when we were in port. I told him to fuck off then we charged towards the fire.

Another missile hit way over there on the other side of the deck. I was flying when I knew it. Then I saw my legs being more grounded than me.

Yeah, I’ll miss ‘em. They were good legs.

* * *

Alright, the fuck’s this?

Water. Lots of water.

No, yeah, no shit. I’m in the navy. ‘Course there’s water.

Hey, someone needs to sweep the deck, though. Shit’s covered in seaweeds and whatever. Bunch of seawater in the forward bulkhead as well.

…

Hol’ up. I know too much. Why do I got a radar in my head? Why’s the cargo hold got no planes? No missiles? Shit, no ice cream?

I’m just deck maintenance, y’know? I just barely know how guns work! I’m the guy that can polish a shitball and make it shine, not—whatever this is!

But y’know what, it’s okay. I’m fine.

 

…

 

No. No I’m not.

 

I’m the walls. I’m the floor. I’m the PA system by the door. I’m the radar and fire control, the CCTVs and microphones. I’m the flipper—ah, fuck, rudder, rudder, it’s called a rudder—and I’m the sonar beeper that’s hangin’ by an umbilical cord from my metaphorical oceanic ass.

Yo. I’m an aircraft carrier. Wild.

I’m not really sure how to take it. Is this the navy’s purgatory? Hol’ up, I remember something about this…

The navy never said sailors were KIA. They always said they were “Lost at sea.” Man, they weren’t kidding.

* * *

So it’s been two days, and I’ve been doing some tinkering. There’s a bunch of computer systems that I can access, which is cool. There’s actually a system clock, but it’s some incomprehensible B.S. like “64070148735” which is uselessly frozen.

Never mind that. I’ve got concerns.

So, the carrier I was on, on the day I gained wings, it was a nuclear boat, okay? I remembered that, then I looked around myself—uh-huh, yeah, just a guy doing some self-discovery here—and guess what? I’m a nuclear boat, too!

But that’s not all! I’ve got 30 years left to live!

… Yay!

Okay, to be clear, I’m not really sure what happens when I run out of fuel. Looks like I do have solar panels in some places, but it’s like, super last-ditch ultimate critical backup levels of power output. For the most part, though, I’ve got two nuclear reactors down there—wink wink—supplying power to absolutely everything I’ve got. Once the reactors run outta gas, I’m pretty much dead in the water.

Probably. What makes me alive? Why am I alive? Just to suffer? Thinkin’ like that just ain’t for aircraft carriers like me, y’know?

Another thing, though.

I’m deck maintenance, okay? Just coz I’m maintenance for the deck ain’t mean I don’t appreciate maintenance as an art, ‘kay? Pretty sure a bunch of stuff I’ve got’s gonna fall apart way before I run out of fuel. Heck, what’ll I do if my propellers get all tangled up on some mega seaweeds or someshit?

Man, I need a crew. Like, ASAP.

 * * *

“There! Land over there!”

Hey hey hey hey hey hey— hey hey HEEEY what is THAT.

There’s a,
It’s a,
Dragon, ain’t it?

The hot warrior princess got off and the dragon turned into a man.

The heeeeeck.

“What a strange island,” the dude says. Well sorry, I’m just an aircraft carrier floatin’ around. “An island of metal. It is a wonder that no storm has ever swept it away.”

“Mind your tongue. It is a holy island from legend. There is a strange power here. I sense it.”

Hey hey hey hey hey hey heeeeyy—that’s some good respect for the nuclear reactors, lady, keep it up.

“Power? I am a dragon. I am all the power you need, princess.”

The fuck’s this disrespect on my deck? I couldn’t help but—

But honk.

“The Island is alive! The legend is real, and we have angered It! Quick, princess! We must engage in a deathly, futile battle!”

The dude transformed into a dragon and flew up into the air. Without the princess. The heck, man. Don’t leave ya girl hangin’ like that.

“Aureos! Fool! Return to earth at once!”

By the way, the princess was in blue armor and had yellow hair, and the dragon was hella red and spiny, throbbing with draconic energy.

Wanna know what else is red, spiny, and throbbing with draconic energy? My fuel rods at 800 degrees Celsius.

So anyway, the dragon swooped down and the princess hopped on—and totally slammed his head into the ground.

Damn, that princess’s powerful.

“Fool! Respect the Island! Why must you fight everything?”

Yeah, man, violence just ain’t it. Not when you’re fuckin’ with her, either.

The dragon turned back into a guy. I just noticed, but he looks like a cosplaying samurai weeb. He’s bowing down and repeatedly bashing his head on the deck. Not sure if the princess’s finger flicking had something to do with it. Wait, is that—

Goddamnit, don’t leave stains on the deck!

Isn’t there something here? Do I have a good PA system for this? All I’ve got are the internal ones and a siren for the deck—ah, found one.

“H.e.y.”

“The Legend speaks!” “Fool! Bow your head!”

Ah, damn, I haven’t really tried using the PA system at all. My voice is all croaky and crinkly with the crackly static and everything.

Hm. I might be able to play this to my advantage.

I really need a crew right now. No, I need aircraft, and there’s one right there. They talk pretty funny, too, so I guess I’ll play along.

You’ll pay your disrespect with service, fool. Or something.

“W.h.a.t… …d.e.s.i.r.e.”

Man, I really need to practice speaking. There’s a bunch of vocabulary that just won’t come out the PA system, but I guess it just makes me look more old and wise, huh? The heck’s an old and wise aircraft carrier doing in a place like this, huh.

The dragon-dude says some things to the princess, can’t really pick it up. Oh, she knelt down. Oh, she did a floor sweep and smooshed the guy’s head on the deck. Is he okay? This is normal? Okay? Okay.

 

“We wish for power! In exchange—whatever of us you see fit!”

 

Man, that’s so vague though.

 

“I am the Princess of the Dragon Kingdom of Merika!”

The what.

“Our lands are beyond what the demons may reach, yet our allies are besieged and shed blood for our peace!”

H-hey, this is sounding kinda a bit—

“Our power alone cannot withstand the demons! We beseech thee, O Almighty Island, to offer thy power. In exchange, the Kingdom offers its lands, its people, and its very freedoms!”

Giving up freedom? Hey now, that ain’t the Merika I know.

“P-princess, freedom is a bit—”

Princess smooshed his head back into the deck, putting her fingers to her chin in a thinking pose. “A-actually, yes, that is a bit…”

Ah. Glad to know Merika’s still Merika.

Still, though. This’s a scam, ain’t it?

…

I don’t like thinking about this. No—I don’t like thinking.

I try the PA system one more time. Y’all gonna hear a word from me.

“H.h.h.h.”

“The Island?! It’s—what forbidden tongue does it speak?!”

The princess is a bit shocked, but I’m just calibrating.

“E.e.e.e.e.”

The princess and dragon dude are grovelling. Guys, hang in there, okay?

“A.a.a.a.a—eeeeeeee”

Ohjesusfuck, I fucked that up. A-ah, they’re banging their heads on my precious deck. That wasn’t a mental attack, okay? It’s my first time on the PA, okay?

“H.h.h.hello. Hello?”

The princess and dragon dude looks up to the tower where the bridge is on. Looks like they’re waiting for my old and wise words—pfsh, yeah, sure.

A’ight, I’ll hand it ya both straight.

“Alright, so hey, I dunno if you two are bullshitting me and this ain’t actually a scam, coz I really don’t know what’s going on here and I want ice cream in my canteen, fuel for days, and a bunch of jumpsuits to up and in here to clean up bits and places here and there, so I’ll just be straight here—”

“… what is this ‘aiscreme’…”

“—just come right in and let’s talk, okay?”

I open the closest door with as much motorized mechanisms I can find and I made it loud. Y’all can find it like this, right?

“… Princess, it seems that we have been issued a great trial by the Island.”

“T-that it seems.”

Wait. No. That’s not it.

“It’s not like that. Just go on in, okay?” I try to explain.

For the first time, the princess looks really nervous. She pulls out her sword, and so too did the dragon dude.

Yo.

“H-hey, there’s a little bit of miscommunication going on here—”

“Princess, it seems that the Island is dismayed at our inability to understand it.”

“We’ve naught to do about it. Its words are too arcane, and we are not scholars.”

Seriously?! “We’re all speaking English, though?!”

“… Aureos?”

“I’m sorry, princess. I can identify some familiar words, but I am no Dragon Sage.”

“Too bad. Well then.” She takes her first steps. “Let’s proceed.”

 

 

I’m just a little bit disappointed here, but the intention’s been conveyed and they’re comin’ in. ‘Least the deck’s not gonna get more facial indentations…