3rd-Person Point of View
Date: Monday, July 5th, 2021
Time: 10:23 AM
Location: Bridge, USS Nimitz (CVNG-68), Multinational Fleet, Gulf of Aden
Less than half an hour after Mary Elizabeth Nimitz had completed the first successful propulsion trial of her new Kansen existence, the atmosphere on the bridge had finally begun settling from astonishment into something almost peaceful. USS Nimitz remained underway at a controlled speed while Engineering monitored both A4W reactors, all four General Electric turbines, and the four shafts that Mary could now recognize without mentally translating them into human anatomy every few seconds. Vestal had grudgingly accepted that Mother's humanoid vital signs remained normal, Enterprise had finally stopped asking every five minutes whether she felt dizzy, and New Jersey had only made three jokes about Mary learning to walk without training wheels. Mary stood near the forward windows with one hand against the bulkhead, smiling faintly as she felt seawater moving around her massive hull and whispered, "I could get used to this."
Enterprise stood beside her and smiled with eyes still red from everything that morning had already meant to them. "You said that about five minutes ago, Mom, and then you spent four minutes staring at your wake like it was the first ocean you had ever seen." Mary glanced toward her eldest daughter and replied, "Sweetheart, yesterday I was learning that I had four propeller shafts, so I reserve the right to be fascinated with water for at least a week." Hornet laughed from a few feet away while New Jersey leaned against a bulkhead and added, "Honey, at this rate you'll discover rudder response next and demand somebody take photographs." Mary pointed toward her without looking away from the sea and answered, "Do not tempt me."
Belfast stood nearby with her tablet resting against one arm, although even the daughter-secretary had relaxed enough that she was no longer attempting to schedule every minute of Mother's morning. Akagi and Kaga remained close because neither Sakura carrier had been willing to leave after watching Mary experience movement for the first time, while Yorktown continued quietly explaining sensations whenever Mother encountered something that felt unfamiliar. Unicorn sat comfortably nearby with Vestal, and Mary's biological sister had already begun collecting an alarming number of embarrassing childhood stories with which to threaten her resurrected sibling later. For perhaps the first time since awakening in Somalia, Mary existed in a moment where nobody was dying, nobody was shooting at her, and nobody was asking whether resurrection had changed the fundamental nature of her humanity.
Then the ocean inside Mary's mind changed. The sensation did not begin as a sound. It began as intrusion.
Mary's smile disappeared so completely that Enterprise noticed before anyone else did. The carrier Kansen's head turned slightly toward the coast while her awareness reached through the AN/SPS-48E, AN/SPS-49, SPQ-9, Aegis combat system, and the immense network of sensors that only hours earlier had felt like separate machines shouting unfamiliar information into her consciousness. Now those systems became something much closer to instinct, and dozens of hostile tracks suddenly burned across her awareness with a speed and direction that needed no explanation.
Vestal looked up from her medical display when Mary's pulse sharply increased. "Mother, what's wrong?" Mary did not immediately answer because Nightwitch had already replaced the woman who had been smiling at her wake seconds before. Her shoulders straightened, her expression went cold, and every trace of sleepy maternal amusement vanished beneath decades of military discipline. Enterprise knew that face. "Mom?"
Mary's eyes snapped toward the tactical displays. "Missiles."
The bridge transformed instantly. Mary's Kansen awareness resolved the threat picture as radar systems aboard the wider fleet began reaching the same conclusion almost simultaneously. Multiple low-flying contacts had appeared from the direction of the coast, moving fast and directly toward the multinational formation rather than following any civilian aviation pattern. The tracks multiplied across Mary's awareness until her mind instinctively counted them without needing anyone to read the number aloud. She felt Aegis classify the danger through her vessel body at the same time human operators began calling it across the bridge.
Forty.
Mary stepped toward the communications position, but she no longer needed to physically touch a radio to make herself heard across the fleet network. Her voice emerged both from her human throat and through the communications systems of USS Nimitz, carrying the same controlled force that had once made Nightwitch a name sailors obeyed without hesitation. "VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE! Forty inbound anti-ship missiles! Forty vampires inbound from the coast!" The words ripped through every ship, every combat information center, every Kansen communication link, and every allied watch station tied into the defensive network.
For less than a heartbeat, Mary's daughters stared at her. Then they moved.
Enterprise's entire posture changed from frightened daughter to carrier Kansen as she reached into the same battle awareness that had carried her through countless engagements. Yorktown moved beside her while Hornet abandoned every trace of humor, and Akagi's ears flattened sharply as Kaga stepped to her sister's side. New Jersey's smile disappeared beneath an expression Mary had rarely seen outside battle. Belfast pressed one hand to her communications earpiece while keeping the other against Mary's shoulder.
"Mother, the fleet acknowledges the warning," Belfast said, voice tightly controlled despite the terror beneath it. "Multiple ships are tracking the inbound raid, and defensive stations are coming fully active." Mary nodded once and replied, "Keep the network clean, Bells, and make sure every daughter hears me clearly." Belfast looked at Mother for half a second before answering, "They hear you."
Mary felt USS Nimitz change around her. Not emotionally. Physically.
Combat systems that had previously sat ready beneath human safeguards became part of an active defensive posture as authorized operators brought them into the engagement. Mary became aware of her own RIM-162 ESSM batteries, Rolling Airframe Missiles, longer-range Standard Missile systems, two Phalanx Mark 15 Block 1B mounts, and the pair of massive 30mm Goalkeeper systems that had replaced two of her older close-in guns. She did not personally command them like independent limbs; instead, she felt trained sailors and automated defensive systems working inside her while her Wisdom Cube translated their activity into an unmistakable awareness that her entire carrier body had become tense and ready.
"Oh," Mary whispered.
Enterprise heard her. "What?"
Mary stared toward the tactical picture. "I can feel myself going to battle stations."
Enterprise moved closer. "Mom, do not fight it."
Mary shook her head. "I am not."
The first long-range defensive missiles left ships throughout the formation.
Mary experienced the launch from her own vessel differently than she had experienced any weapon before becoming Kansen. There was no pain when a defensive missile left one of her launch cells, but there was a sudden release of contained force, a bright absence where something had been waiting a moment before, followed instantly by awareness of friendly defensive tracks accelerating away from the fleet. Similar launches erupted from cruisers and destroyers around them, creating an expanding shield between the inbound Kh-35 Anti-ship missile and the ships they intended to kill.
Mary's eyes widened. "I can feel the interceptors leaving me."
Yorktown answered without looking away from the developing battle picture. "That becomes easier too, Mom, because eventually you'll know the difference between your weapons leaving and hostile weapons approaching without consciously thinking about it." Mary watched friendly tracks race toward hostile ones and muttered, "I already know the difference." Her voice hardened. "The ones leaving me feel like protection."
The first hostile contact vanished. Then another. Then several more.
Across the Gulf of Aden, defensive missiles met the Kh-35 raid far from the core of the fleet, and flashes appeared as distant pinpricks against daylight that human eyes on the bridge could barely resolve without magnification. Mary's radar awareness understood each disappearance with brutal clarity, however, and she found herself counting without consciously deciding to do so. "Thirty-six remaining," she said.
A tactical officer called updated numbers almost simultaneously. Mary's eyes narrowed. "Thirty-three."
Another cluster disappeared. "Twenty-nine."
New Jersey looked toward her. "Honey, you're reading the whole battle through your own sensors."
Mary did not answer. Her entire attention remained fixed on the threat.
Some missiles slipped through the outer defensive engagements, exactly as any large saturation attack had been designed to force them to do, and the fleet's next defensive layer awakened in response. More interceptors lifted from multiple ships while electronic countermeasures and coordinated defensive systems filled the battlespace with deception, interference, and overlapping protection. Mary sensed her daughters' vessel forms in the fleet taking up defensive roles around one another while human crews throughout the task force fought alongside them rather than beneath them.
The incoming number continued falling. "Twenty-four."
Enterprise moved beside Mary as another hostile track disappeared. "Mom, breathe." Mary realized she had been holding air in her human lungs even though her carrier body needed no such reminder. She exhaled sharply and answered, "I'm breathing."
Vestal immediately replied, "You are now."
Mary looked toward her for half a second. "Not the time, Doctor."
Vestal stared directly back at her. "Especially the time, Mother."
Mary almost smiled…Almost…Then her SPQ-9 awareness screamed that several surviving missiles had entered the inner defensive problem. Mary's head snapped back toward the tactical display. "Thirteen remaining."
The atmosphere changed again. The distant defensive battle became immediate.
Close-in systems across multiple warships came alive as missiles penetrated deeper into the fleet's protective envelope. Tracer fire erupted from ships farther across the formation, brilliant streams reaching into the sky and across low approaches while short-range defensive missiles curved toward targets that had survived everything thrown at them farther out. The sound was too distant in some places for Mary's human ears, but her Kansen awareness felt the entire defensive formation firing around her like a vast organism protecting itself.
One of the Kh-35s turned toward USS Nimitz. Mary knew. She did not need a tactical officer to tell her. That one was coming for her. More importantly, it was coming for the thousands of sailors inside her.
For Enterprise standing beside her. For Belfast. For Vestal. For Unicorn. For Akagi and Kaga.
For her sister. Mary's expression became frighteningly still. "That one wants me."
Enterprise tightened her grip on Mother's shoulder. "It doesn't get you."
The approaching missile survived another defensive engagement. Mary's own short-range systems prepared.
One of her Rolling Airframe Missiles launched and disappeared from its cell in a violent flash of controlled defensive power. Mary felt it leave her and race outward, and for perhaps two seconds the entire world narrowed to two tracks closing rapidly on one another. They touched on the tactical picture.
Both disappeared. Mary inhaled. "Kill confirmed."
Enterprise squeezed her shoulder. "That's one less."
Mary immediately looked toward the wider picture. "Eight remaining."
Across the formation, surviving Kh-35s drove toward different ships and ship girls, but the fleet had compressed into disciplined defense rather than panic. New Jersey's modernized vessel form contributed its own close-in defenses while cruisers and destroyers poured fire into the remaining threats. Enterprise, Yorktown, Akagi, Kaga, and the other carrier daughters worked through their own combat systems and supporting aircraft where appropriate, but nobody broke formation to chase an enemy out of anger.
Mary had taught them that. Now she had to follow the same rule. Six missiles remained. Then five. Then three.
The final few descended into a storm of close-in gunfire from multiple ships, and for Mary the experience became almost overwhelming. Her Phalanx and Goalkeeper systems added their voices to the fleet-wide defense, the deep mechanical vibrations registering through her carrier body in a way that was neither painful nor pleasant. Brilliant streams of tracers reached outward over the sea, and Mary could feel the violence of defensive fire radiating through her own structure.
Vestal immediately touched Mother's wrist while monitoring the readout. "Tell me what you're feeling." Mary did not look away from the battle and answered, "Vibration through my hull when my guns fire, not pain, no dizziness, no nausea." Vestal nodded once. "Good, keep talking."
Two hostile tracks vanished. One remained. Silence seemed to seize Mary's human body even while the fleet continued roaring around her. The final Kh-35 raced low across the water toward the formation. Several defensive systems engaged it almost simultaneously.
Mary saw the track flicker. Then disappear. Nobody celebrated immediately. Military professionals rarely trusted the first silence after a saturation attack. Mary stared at her sensors and searched.
She searched through radar. She searched through Aegis. She searched through her newly forming Kansen intuition. Nothing. No surviving hostile tracks.
No missile hidden behind another. No sudden new raid appearing over the horizon. The tactical officer finally called what Mary already knew. "All forty vampires destroyed. No impacts on the fleet."
Mary closed her eyes. Her shoulders dropped. For several seconds she simply breathed. Enterprise immediately wrapped both arms around her from the side and whispered, "We got them." Mary opened her eyes but did not yet return the hug. Her attention moved through her carrier body, checking decks, compartments, machinery, aircraft spaces, and every location where thousands of human beings lived within her.
No missile had touched them. Nobody had torn into her daughters. Nobody had struck her allied ships. Nobody had broken through. Mary whispered, "Everybody's here."
Belfast looked toward her. "Yes, Mother."
Mary's voice shook. "They tried to kill everybody inside me."
Enterprise's expression changed. Mary turned toward her daughters. "They tried to kill you."
Akagi stepped closer. "Okāsan…"
Mary's eyes became hard. "No."
Akagi stopped. Mary continued, "I am not going to lose control, and I am not going to let rage choose where weapons land." Akagi's eyes filled because those were almost the same words Mother had taught her during the Somali rescue. Mary looked directly at the Sakura carrier and added, "But I am also not going to pretend somebody launching forty anti-ship missiles at this fleet is something we ignore."
Kaga nodded once. "Then we identify them."
Mary answered, "Exactly."
The fleet remained at full defensive readiness while sensors and intelligence systems turned toward determining where the attack had originated. Mary experienced this stage differently than the missile defense itself, because her Kansen awareness did not magically know who had fired simply because she had sensed the missiles approaching. Radar tracks, airborne surveillance, electronic information, and reports from allied units had to be compared by trained people before anyone could make a conclusion.
Mary appreciated that limitation. Power did not become truth merely because she possessed it.
The first reports indicated mobile coastal launchers operating from a concealed military complex well away from the areas used during the hostage rescue. No civilian settlement appeared inside the immediate target zone, and the rescue command confirmed that no known surviving hostages or friendly ground teams remained anywhere near the location. Additional surveillance supported the conclusion that the launch vehicles and their support equipment were concentrated inside a clearly military compound rather than dispersed among civilian structures.
Mary listened to each confirmation. Then she asked for it again. Belfast looked toward her. "Mother?"
Mary's expression remained cold. "I want civilian status confirmed separately."
The bridge staff complied through the appropriate operational channels, and Mary waited while Enterprise stood close enough to remind her she was not alone. The answer returned with the same conclusion: the launch complex sat isolated from populated areas, rescue forces had no surviving captives or friendly elements inside the strike area, and the missile batteries that had just attacked the fleet remained valid military targets.
Mary closed her eyes. Her daughters waited. Her crew waited. She thought about forty hostile missiles. Forty chances for one to hit.
Forty chances for a sailor to die. Forty chances for Enterprise to vanish. Forty chances for Belfast, Vestal, Unicorn, Akagi, Kaga, New Jersey, Yorktown, Hornet, or anyone else aboard the formation to become another name attached to grief. Mary opened her eyes. "Confirm hostile launcher complex remains operational."
The answer came back affirmative. Mary's jaw tightened. "Then neutralize the batteries."
New Jersey's gaze hardened. "Honey?"
Mary looked toward her daughter. "You and the other authorized land-attack-capable ships have the confirmed military complex." She paused before adding with deliberate emphasis, "No expansion beyond the verified target area, and if anything changes regarding civilians or friendly presence, the strike stops."
New Jersey nodded. "Understood."
Mary reached across the fleet network without raising her voice. "Nightwitch One-One to strike-capable elements, confirmed hostile coastal missile complex authorized for retaliatory strike under current defensive authority. Military targets only. Preserve civilian areas outside the installation."
Acknowledgements returned. Mary felt New Jersey change beside her. The battleship daughter stood physically on USS Nimitz's bridge, yet Mary's radar awareness knew where New Jersey's vessel form held station within the formation. The 1982-modernized battleship carried weapons from an entirely different age than the nine 16-inch guns that defined her silhouette, and now that modern capability shifted from readiness toward action. Other authorized ships within the US component of the task force prepared their own land-attack weapons under established command oversight.
New Jersey looked at Mary. For a moment she was not the battleship who joked about Mom's inability to ride a bicycle. She was a daughter asking permission to protect the family. "Mother, I have the target."
Mary held her gaze. "Take the launchers away from them."
New Jersey nodded. "Yes, Mom."
The launch itself happened beyond ordinary human sight from the bridge, but Mary sensed the friendly weapons enter the battlespace through the fleet's tracking network. Belfast called the brevity warning across the relevant net. "Greyhound, Greyhound, friendly land-attack cruise missiles away."
Mary watched the tracks form. Several friendly missiles moved toward the coast. Then more from other authorized platforms. The number mattered less than the purpose. Nobody was firing in rage at a city.
Nobody was punishing a population. The weapons were headed for the isolated military installation that had just sent forty anti-ship missiles toward the fleet. Mary folded her arms tightly across her chest.
Enterprise stood beside her. "You okay?"
Mary answered without looking away. "No."
Enterprise waited. Mary continued, "I am controlled, and I know this is necessary, but somebody just tried to murder thousands of people inside me less than an hour after I learned how it feels to move."
Enterprise took her hand. Mary squeezed it hard. "They tried to kill my daughters."
Enterprise whispered, "I know."
Mary looked toward her. "I understand now why every one of you becomes terrifying when somebody threatens your family."
Enterprise's eyes softened. "We learned it from you."
Mary almost smiled. "Apparently that one is not banned."
Enterprise leaned against her shoulder. "No."
The friendly strike crossed toward the coastal target while airborne and shipborne sensors watched for any last-minute reason to abort. None appeared. The launcher complex remained isolated, military vehicles and radar equipment still occupied the position, and no civilians entered the area.
Mary watched without pretending the moment was clean or pleasant. Weapons struck the complex. Distant flashes appeared against the coast.
Her radar and other sensors registered the disappearance of systems that had helped produce the forty-missile attack, while additional impacts tore through launcher positions, support vehicles, storage areas, and hardened military structures within the confirmed compound. Mary did not cheer.
Neither did Enterprise. Neither did Belfast. Even New Jersey remained solemn. They watched until the attack ended. Smoke rose over the distant military site. Secondary fires appeared inside the installation.
The sensors that had helped coordinate the hostile missile launch fell silent. Mary's voice was low. "Status."
The assessment came back progressively rather than instantly. The mobile launchers inside the verified strike area had been destroyed or disabled, associated military support positions were heavily damaged, and no further missile launches were detected. The fleet continued searching for threats rather than assuming the attack had ended simply because one site had been destroyed.
Mary nodded. "Keep watching."
Belfast acknowledged. "Yes, Mother."
New Jersey moved closer. Mary looked at her. The battleship daughter seemed almost uncertain. "Are you angry with me?"
Mary's expression changed completely. "Why would I be?"
New Jersey shrugged slightly. "You spent all yesterday trying to keep us from fighting angry."
Mary stepped toward her and took both of her hands. "You didn't fire because you were angry."
New Jersey looked into her eyes. Mary continued, "You fired because a confirmed military launcher complex had just attacked our fleet and remained capable of attacking again."
New Jersey swallowed. "And because they tried to kill you."
Mary nodded. "And because they tried to kill all of us, but that's the reason we were angry, not the targeting standard."
New Jersey's eyes filled. Mary squeezed her hands. "That difference matters."
New Jersey whispered, "I know."
Mary pulled her into a hug. "Good."
The battleship held her tightly. Mary murmured into her hair, "And thank you for protecting your sisters."
New Jersey's composure broke. "I'd do anything for them."
Mary's arms tightened. "I know, Honey."
Akagi stood several feet away watching them, and Mary noticed immediately. She released New Jersey with one arm and reached toward the fox carrier. "You too." Akagi hesitated before moving into the embrace.
Mary looked down at her. "Do you understand why I made everyone wait for civilian confirmation?"
Akagi nodded. "Yes, Okāsan."
Mary asked, "And why we did not simply launch everything the second we found the coast?"
Akagi answered with a trembling voice. "Because anger cannot decide who deserves to be under our weapons."
Mary kissed her forehead. "Exactly."
Akagi gripped Mother's uniform. "But I still wanted them gone."
Mary answered, "So did I."
Kaga joined beside her sister and said, "Restraint does not mean refusing to defend the family."
Mary looked toward her and nodded. "No."
Kaga continued, "It means knowing what we are defending and why."
Mary smiled faintly. "You girls are making me proud today."
Enterprise approached from behind. "We're trying."
Mary looked around at all of them. "So am I."
Vestal stepped closer with the medical monitor still in hand, and Mary gave her daughter a warning look before the repair ship could say anything. "I know, Doctor, my pulse is probably high." Vestal looked down at the display and answered, "It was, Mother, but it is already decreasing."
Mary blinked. "That's good."
Vestal smiled. "It is."
Mary put one hand over her human heart. "I didn't feel sick."
Vestal shook her head. "You aren't."
Mary looked toward the tactical display where the last traces of the missile battle remained as fading tracks and recorded data. Forty hostile missiles. Forty destroyed. No fleet impacts. No daughters lost.
No sailors killed by the raid. The words settled differently now that Mary had experienced the attack through her entire vessel body. She had felt defensive missiles leave her, close-in weapons shake her structure, hostile tracks rush toward her family, and the enormous coordinated effort of dozens of ships and Kansen working together to make sure none reached the formation.
Mary whispered, "That was my first battle as Nimitz."
Enterprise squeezed her hand. "Yes."
Mary's expression became thoughtful. "I have been in battles before."
Yorktown nodded. "But not like this."
Mary shook her head. "No."
She looked through the bridge windows at the Gulf. "As a human officer, battle happened around me and through the people I commanded."
Her hand pressed against the bulkhead. "This time it happened to me too."
New Jersey leaned against a nearby console. "How does that feel?"
Mary considered the question for a long moment. "Terrifying."
Nobody laughed. Mary continued, "Not because I don't trust myself, but because every weapon impact I imagined was no longer just damage to a carrier on a tactical plot."
She looked toward Enterprise. "It would have been damaging to me."
Then Belfast. "And to everyone inside me."
Then Unicorn. "And everyone I love."
Unicorn walked over and hugged Mother's side. Mary rested one arm around her. "That makes it very personal."
Yorktown replied softly, "It always is for us."
Mary nodded. "I know now."
Belfast's tablet chimed, but unlike the urgent alarms of minutes before, the message caused her expression to shift into something unexpected. Mary noticed instantly and asked, "What is it?"
Belfast looked toward her. "Mother, the fleet has begun receiving the first post-engagement reports."
Mary nodded. "And?"
Belfast's expression softened. "No friendly ships were hit."
The bridge went quiet. Mary closed her eyes. Belfast continued, "No casualties aboard USS Nimitz from the missile engagement, and initial reports from the wider formation indicate no casualties attributable to the attack."
Mary's knees almost weakened. Enterprise caught one arm. Vestal immediately stepped closer. Mary raised a hand. "I'm fine."
She opened her eyes. "I'm just…"
Her voice failed. Enterprise understood. "Everybody came through."
Mary nodded. "Everybody came through."
Hornet approached and wrapped her arms around Mother. Mary hugged her. Then Yorktown joined. Akagi and Kaga followed.
New Jersey wrapped her arms around the growing group from one side while Belfast carefully abandoned her tablet long enough to join as Mary's daughter instead of her secretary. Unicorn remained pressed against Mother's side, Vestal joined after confirming she was not being crushed, and Mary's biological sister eventually shook her head before leaning into the family embrace.
Mary started laughing through tears. "Again."
Enterprise looked up. "What?"
Mary squeezed everyone she could reach. "Every major development ends with all of you hugging me."
Hornet replied, "Still complaining?"
Mary shook her head. "Never."
For a moment the bridge was filled with nothing more dangerous than daughters refusing to release their mother. The missile raid had lasted only minutes. The fear would remain longer. Mary knew that. Her daughters knew it too.
But nobody had died. Nobody had disappeared from her family. The attackers had failed. The military launch complex that had threatened the fleet no longer possessed that capability. Mary eventually pulled back enough to look toward the bridge crew. "You all did good work." The officer of the deck nodded and replied, "Thank you, Admiral."
Mary shook her head. "No, I mean it."
She looked across the sailors operating inside the body she now understood was hers. "Every one of you."
The bridge grew still. Mary continued, "I felt systems respond during that attack in ways I could barely describe yesterday, but none of that replaces the people who knew what to do when forty hostile missiles appeared."
She placed a hand over her Wisdom Cube. "I may be USS Nimitz, but today reminded me that being the ship does not mean standing alone."
Enterprise smiled. Mary looked toward her. "That includes daughters."
Enterprise answered, "Good, because you aren't getting rid of us."
Mary smiled. "I've noticed."
The fleet remained at heightened readiness while analysts reviewed the attack and searched for evidence of additional hostile batteries. Mary allowed her combat awareness to remain active without letting fear turn every coastal radar return into an imagined missile launch. The distinction mattered.
Nightwitch remained awake. Mother remained present. Nimitz remained underway. All three names belonged to the same woman. Mary eventually returned her attention to the Gulf and felt her four shafts continuing their measured rotation beneath the water. The sensation that had filled her with childish wonder less than an hour earlier now carried a different meaning.
Movement meant life. Sensors meant awareness. Weapons meant responsibility. Crew meant trust. Daughters meant everything.
Mary whispered, "I learned how to move this morning."
Enterprise stood beside her. "And now?"
Mary watched the fleet. "I learned what I'm moving for."
Enterprise's hand found hers. Mary squeezed it. Belfast stepped closer with her tablet once again in secretary mode, although her expression remained undeniably that of a daughter. "Mother, whenever you are ready, there are several post-engagement matters requiring your attention."
Mary sighed. "Of course there are."
Belfast smiled. "You did say you intended to live."
Mary glanced toward her. "I did."
Belfast answered, "Living appears to involve paperwork."
Mary stared at her. New Jersey burst out laughing. Hornet joined immediately. Even Akagi smiled. Mary finally groaned. "I fought forty anti-ship missiles and survived only to be defeated by the administration."
Belfast's smile became perfectly serene. "Mother, paperwork has defeated stronger people than you."
Mary pointed toward her daughter-secretary. "That may be the most frightening thing anyone said during the entire missile attack."
The bridge laughter returned. Outside, USS Nimitz continued cutting through the Gulf of Aden under her own power. Behind her, a wake marked every mile she moved forward. Alongside her, the multinational fleet remained intact. Far behind them on the coast, smoke rose from the military launch complex that had tried and failed to break the formation.
Mary looked once more at the sea and allowed herself one quiet thought before duty returned. They tried to take my family. They failed. Mary smiled faintly. Then Mother turned back toward her daughters.
Time: 11:07 AM
Location: Bridge and Flight Deck, USS Nimitz (CVNG-68), Gulf of Aden
The bridge of USS Nimitz had barely settled into the tense quiet that followed the destruction of forty inbound Kh-35 anti-ship missiles when Belfast's tablet chimed again, and Mary Elizabeth Nimitz initially assumed another post-engagement report had arrived. Her carrier body remained at heightened readiness beneath her humanoid form, both A4W reactors producing their steady depth of power while her four turbines and shafts kept the enormous carrier moving through the Gulf beneath the protection of the multinational formation. Mary still felt echoes of the defensive engagement through herself, remembered the sudden emptiness when missiles departed her launchers, and could almost imagine the vibration of her Phalanx and Goalkeeper systems firing even though the guns had fallen silent. She glanced toward Belfast with the exhausted expression of a woman who had died, resurrected, discovered she was a nuclear aircraft carrier, fought pirates, learned how to sail herself, and survived a saturation missile attack within a span that still felt impossibly short. "Please tell me that is somebody informing me the paperwork has spontaneously completed itself," she said, earning a faint smile from her daughter-secretary.
Belfast looked at the message, and the smile vanished so quickly that Mary immediately straightened. Enterprise noticed it as well and moved closer, while Vestal checked Mother's vital-sign monitor almost from instinct and Akagi's ears lifted sharply in concern. Belfast read the message twice before slowly raising her eyes toward Mary, her professional composure giving way to something unmistakably personal. "Mother," she said softly, "your parents have reached the fleet, and transportation has been cleared to bring them aboard USS Nimitz."
Mary stopped breathing. Not metaphorically.
Her human lungs simply stopped moving while the woman stared at Belfast as though the Royal Maid had spoken in another language. Mary's carrier body continued operating normally around them, her radars continued sweeping, her shafts continued turning, and thousands of sailors continued their duties, yet her six-foot-five humanoid body stood completely frozen in the center of the bridge. Enterprise reached for Mary's hand and whispered, "Mom, breathe," but this time the reminder had nothing to do with hostile missiles.
Mary inhaled sharply. "My mom and dad?"
Belfast's own eyes began filling. "Yes, Mother, both of them." She looked back toward the tablet and continued, "They were moved forward as soon as your survival was confirmed beyond reasonable doubt, but yesterday's rescue operations and the security situation delayed their arrival into the immediate fleet area." Mary's lips trembled while Belfast added, "They have been informed that you are medically healthy, that your former disease is not present, and that you are physically aboard USS Nimitz as a Kansen."
Mary stared at her. "They know I'm the ship?"
Belfast nodded. "They have been told."
Mary swallowed. "That isn't the same as understanding."
Her biological sister stepped forward from where she had been standing near New Jersey and quietly said, "No, it isn't." Mary turned toward her sister, and the look between them immediately carried years that nobody else on the bridge could completely share. Her sister's eyes were already wet as she continued, "I tried explaining it to them over secure calls, but Mom kept asking whether you were really Mary, and Dad kept asking whether he was going to see his daughter or some kind of copy."
Mary's face crumpled. "What did you tell them?"
Her sister walked closer. "I told them what you told us."
Mary waited.
Her sister reached up and placed one hand against Mary's cheek. "There isn't another Nimitz hiding in the ship, there isn't a copy wearing your face, and there isn't some machine pretending to remember our childhood." Her voice shook as she continued, "I told them you're Mary, the same obnoxious little sister who blamed a bicycle for falling over, except now you're also one hundred thousand tons of nuclear-powered aircraft carrier."
Mary's eyes widened with betrayal despite the tears. "You told Mom and Dad the bicycle story?" Her sister laughed through her own crying and answered, "Dad already remembered it." Mary covered her face with one hand and groaned, "I survived forty anti-ship missiles to be destroyed by family history."
Enterprise laughed shakily and slipped one arm around Mother's waist. "There she is." Mary lowered her hand and tried to smile, but the expression failed almost immediately when Belfast continued reading the transport update. The HH-60 Rescue Hawk carrying Mary's parents had entered the outer fleet control zone and would soon approach USS Nimitz under escort.
Mary's entire body began shaking. Vestal noticed instantly. "Mother."
Mary looked toward her daughter. "I know."
Vestal stepped closer and checked the monitor. Mary shook her head. "It's not medical."
Vestal answered softly, "I know."
Mary stared down at her own hands as they trembled. "I wasn't shaking like this when the missiles were coming." Enterprise took one hand while Belfast took the other, and Mary laughed once in disbelief at herself. "Forty anti-ship missiles were coming toward my daughters and thousands of sailors, and I knew exactly what to do, but my parents are getting on a helicopter and suddenly I don't know where to put my hands."
Yorktown approached from nearby and replied, "Because you knew your job during the missile attack, Mom." Mary looked at her, and Yorktown continued, "There was a threat, there were people to protect, and there were decisions to make, but there is no battle plan for seeing the parents who buried you." Mary's expression broke open completely.
Mary whispered, "They buried me."
Nobody answered because there was nothing to correct. She had died. Her parents had stood at a funeral and said goodbye to their daughter. Her family had watched a casket become the physical representation of everything disease had taken from them. Now that same daughter was standing on the bridge of an aircraft carrier that was also physically her.
Mary's voice came out small enough that Enterprise almost did not recognize it. "What if seeing me hurts them more?"
Her sister immediately stepped closer. "Mary, Mom has been crying since she learned you were alive because she was terrified somebody would tell her it was a mistake." Mary squeezed Belfast's hand hard while her sister continued, "Dad kept demanding confirmation from three different people because he refused to let Mom survive losing you a second time because of bad information."
Mary closed her eyes. "What if they look at me and see something that isn't their daughter anymore?"
Her sister shook her head fiercely. "You're still the woman who threatens your children with toast."
New Jersey called from behind them, "She actually threw the toast."
Mary's sister pointed toward the battleship without looking away from Mary. "Exactly." A few people on the bridge laughed through the emotion, and Mary's sister continued, "You're still stubborn, sarcastic, protective, impossible, and convinced every piece of machinery that defeats you is defective." Mary tried to glare but could not hold it.
Enterprise squeezed Mother's hand. "You're also still our mom." Belfast pressed closer and added, "And my mother." Akagi came near enough to place one hand against Mary's arm and said, "And my Okāsan." Vestal looked directly into Mary's eyes and finished, "Your parents are not coming aboard to inspect a Kansen, Mother; they are coming aboard because their daughter is alive."
Mary's breathing shook. "I don't know if I'm ready."
Her biological sister gave her a watery smile. "You weren't ready for Somalia either." Mary blinked. "You weren't ready to wake up as a ship."
Mary swallowed. "You weren't ready for Enterprise to hug you on the flight deck."
Mary's eyes filled again. "You weren't ready for thirty-seven daughters at breakfast, and you sure as hell weren't ready for forty Kh-35 subsonic cruise anti-ship missiles."
Mary managed a broken laugh. Her sister smiled. "You did all of it anyway."
Mary stared at her. Then she nodded. "Okay."
Belfast squeezed her hand. "Okay?"
Mary breathed in. "Bring my parents home."
The phrase spread across the bridge with far more emotional weight than any combat order Mary had issued that morning. Belfast relayed the confirmation through the appropriate channels while USS Nimitz prepared the flight deck to receive the approaching helicopter. Mary felt those preparations through her carrier awareness almost immediately: personnel moving, an area being cleared, deck crews positioning themselves, aviation control coordinating the approach, and the ship subtly altering from combat readiness toward receiving two people whose importance had nothing to do with rank or military value.
They were Mother's parents. That made them important enough.
Mary left the bridge before anybody could suggest waiting inside. Enterprise walked beside her while Belfast, Yorktown, Hornet, New Jersey, Vestal, Unicorn, Akagi, Kaga, Mary's sister, brother, and the six cousins already aboard gradually joined the procession. Mary noticed the growing group and gave them a helpless look before saying, "My mother is going to think I've started a cult."
Hornet grinned. "You kind of did."
Mary looked at her. "Do not say that to Grandma."
Hornet froze. "Grandma."
The entire group became quiet. Enterprise blinked. Belfast stared. Akagi's ears stood straight up. New Jersey slowly smiled.
Mary immediately realized what had happened. "Oh no."
New Jersey's grin widened. "Oh yes."
Mary pointed at her. "Do not."
New Jersey put one hand against her chest with exaggerated innocence. "Honey, Mary's mother is your daughters' grandmother." Mary's face became horrified as several ship girls around them processed the revelation simultaneously. Hornet whispered, "We have grandparents."
Enterprise's expression changed from amusement to sudden raw emotion. "Mom." Mary turned toward her.
Enterprise continued quietly, "We actually have grandparents now."
Mary's entire expression softened. "Sweetheart."
Enterprise looked overwhelmed by the idea. "We always had you, and that was enough, but I never thought about your parents being part of us too." Mary's sister started crying again as Belfast covered her mouth with one hand. Mary reached for Enterprise and pulled her into a side embrace while saying, "Then we'll let them decide how much family they can survive today before forty ship girls start calling them Grandma and Grandpa."
Unicorn looked upward. "Can I call them Grandma and Grandpa?"
Mary looked down at her smallest daughter and completely lost the ability to maintain composure. "If they're comfortable with it, baby." Unicorn smiled brightly and slipped her hand into Mother's.
Akagi spoke from Mary's other side. "Okāsan, does that mean your mother is my grandmother too?" Mary laughed through tears and answered, "Yes, sweetheart, apparently I accidentally created an international grandparent crisis."
Kaga's mouth twitched. "Your parents may require warning."
Belfast immediately lifted her tablet. "I can prepare a family briefing."
Mary stared at her. "Bells, if you hand my parents an orientation packet explaining that they have inherited several dozen warship granddaughters, I will personally throw your tablet into the Gulf."
Belfast smiled. "Daughter first?"
Mary sighed. "Very much daughter first."
They reached the flight deck while USS Nimitz remained underway at a controlled speed. Morning sunlight stretched across Mary's dark-blue flight deck, the enormous white number 68 visible forward while the island carried the same number above them. Mary felt wind flowing across her carrier body and across her humanoid face at the same time, two sensations increasingly easy to hold together without becoming disoriented. Her parents were approaching the enormous vessel their daughter had become, and Mary suddenly found the size of herself terrifying for an entirely new reason.
Her father had once carried her when she was small. Now his daughter displaced more than one hundred thousand long tons. Her mother had once tucked Mary into bed. Now her daughter had thousands of sailors living inside her and two nuclear reactors operating below deck.
Mary looked down at the dark-blue flight deck beneath her boots. "Dad is going to have questions."
Her sister snorted. "Dad always has questions."
Mary looked toward her. "How did he react when he learned I was nuclear-powered?"
Her sister hesitated. Mary narrowed her eyes. "What?"
Her sister laughed despite herself. "He asked whether that meant you were finally too expensive for Mom to ground."
Mary stared. Everyone around them erupted. Even Mary eventually broke into laughter, bending slightly while clutching Enterprise's shoulder for support. "That's Dad," she managed through tears. "That is absolutely Dad."
Her sister nodded. "Exactly."
Mary wiped her face. "And Mom?"
Her sister's amusement faded. "She didn't care about the reactors."
Mary went still. "She only asked whether you could still hug her."
Mary's mouth opened. No sound came out. Enterprise grabbed Mother before Mary's knees actually gave way. Vestal stepped forward immediately, but Mary raised one trembling hand and whispered, "I'm okay." Her sister came close enough to touch Mary's cheek and added, "I told her yes."
Mary started crying. "Thank you."
Her sister smiled. "She said that was all she needed to know."
The distant sound of helicopter rotors gradually became audible above the sea and wind, but Mary sensed the aircraft much earlier through her carrier radar. A friendly helicopter approached under escort, its identity confirmed through the fleet's defensive network long before it neared USS Nimitz. Mary's awareness instinctively tracked it, and she recognized the HH-60 Rescue Hawk from her own aviation complement.
Mary whispered, "That's one of mine."
Enterprise smiled through tears. "The same kind that brought you home."
Mary nodded. "And now one is bringing Mom and Dad."
Hornet placed one hand against Mother's shoulder. "Feels right."
Mary's eyes never left the approaching aircraft. The HH-60 came closer, its light sea-blue paint and invasion stripes becoming visible as it approached the massive carrier. Mary's Kansen senses interpreted the helicopter as part of her own aviation complement, familiar in a way ordinary ownership could never fully describe. Yet the two passengers inside mattered infinitely more than the aircraft carrying them.
Mary's pulse climbed. Vestal looked at the monitor. Mary noticed. "Don't say it."
Vestal replied, "I wasn't going to."
Mary raised an eyebrow. Vestal smiled softly. "I was going to tell you that you're allowed to be scared."
Mary looked back toward the helicopter. "I am."
Enterprise took her hand. Mary squeezed. "I am more scared right now than when the vampires came in."
New Jersey's expression softened. "Because missiles don't love you."
Mary looked toward her daughter. New Jersey continued, "Your parents do."
Mary nodded. "Yeah."
The HH-60 entered the landing pattern. Mary experienced the approach from two perspectives at once. Her humanoid eyes watched the helicopter descending toward the deck while her vessel awareness felt its position relative to the landing area with growing precision. The rotor wash crossed her flight deck and stirred clothing and hair around the waiting family.
Mary did not move. The helicopter settled. Its wheels touched Mary's flight deck. She gasped. Enterprise looked toward her. "Mom?"
Mary whispered, "They touched me."
Enterprise's eyes filled. Mary stared at the helicopter. "My parents just landed on me."
Her sister laughed through tears. "You are never going to get used to saying things normally again."
Mary almost smiled. "I don't think normal language was designed for this family."
The helicopter remained running while the crew completed the safe landing process, and Mary had to physically stop herself from crossing the deck before clearance. Every military instinct she possessed told her to wait, while every part of her that remained somebody's daughter screamed to run.
Her sister grabbed her hand. Mary looked toward her. "I know."
Mary shook. "I want to go."
"I know."
Finally the signal came. The door opened. Mary's entire world narrowed. Her father appeared first. He stepped down carefully from the helicopter and turned immediately to help Mary's mother. Neither parent looked toward the island, the flight deck, the ship girls, or the sailors waiting nearby at first. They looked forward.
They looked for their daughter. Mary saw her mother's face. The strength left her. "Mom."
Her mother's head snapped toward the voice. There were perhaps forty feet between them. Neither moved for one second. Mary's mother stared at the six-foot-five woman standing on the dark-blue flight deck, taller and healthier than the dying daughter she remembered, blond hair moving in the rotor wash and tears streaming down a face she knew better than her own.
Her father stared too. Mary whispered again. "Mom."
Her mother made a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a scream. "Mary!"
That broke everything. Mary ran. Military decorum disappeared. Kansen's dignity disappeared. Admiral's composure disappeared.
The Mother of Ship Girls became somebody's daughter. Mary crossed the deck as fast as safety allowed once clear of the helicopter, and her mother moved toward her with arms already open. They collided in the center of the flight deck with enough force that Mary's mother nearly lost her balance, but Mary caught her and lifted her slightly without intending to.
Her mother grabbed Mary's face. "Mary."
Mary sobbed. "Mom."
Her mother touched her cheeks, forehead, hair, neck, and shoulders in frantic succession as though every contact answered a different fear. "You're warm." Mary nodded violently. "I'm warm."
Her mother pressed one trembling hand against Mary's chest. Mary covered it. Her mother felt the heartbeat. She broke. "Oh God."
Mary wrapped both arms around her. "Mom."
Her mother buried her face against Mary's chest and screamed through tears, "I buried you!"
Mary's entire body folded around her. "I know."
"I buried my baby!" Mary sobbed. "I know, Mom, I know."
Her mother struck Mary's shoulder once with an open hand, not hard enough to hurt but filled with the raw helplessness of a parent who had nowhere else to put two months of grief. "You were gone!" she cried. "You were gone, and I went home after your funeral, and your room existed without you, and your father kept pretending he was all right because he thought I needed him to be strong!"
Mary held her tighter. "I'm sorry."
Her mother pulled back enough to look at her fiercely. "No."
Mary froze. Her mother grabbed her face again. "You do not apologize for dying from something you couldn't stop."
Vestal covered her mouth behind them. Enterprise began crying harder. Mary's mother continued, "You don't apologize for getting sick, you don't apologize for leaving because you didn't choose it, and you absolutely do not apologize for coming back."
Mary started sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. Her mother pulled her close again. "You came back."
Mary nodded against her shoulder. "I came back."
"You're alive."
"Yes."
"You're healthy?"
Mary immediately answered, "Yes."
Her mother pulled away and looked toward Vestal instinctively, recognizing the daughter who had helped care for Mary through her illness. Vestal stepped closer with tears streaming down her face and said, "Her disease is gone, Grandma."
The word came out before Vestal could stop it. Everyone froze. Vestal's eyes widened. Mary's mother stared at her. Vestal immediately looked horrified. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume…"
Mary's mother crossed the distance. She hugged Vestal. The repair ship stopped functioning as a coherent person. Mary's mother held her and whispered, "You stayed with my daughter when I couldn't be here every second."
Vestal sobbed. "I couldn't save her."
Mary's mother tightened the embrace. "You loved her."
Vestal cried harder. "Yes."
"Then you're my granddaughter."
Vestal collapsed into her arms. Mary covered her mouth. Enterprise leaned against Yorktown as tears overwhelmed her. Unicorn started crying simply because everyone else was. Mary's father had remained several steps away during the first explosion of emotion, and Mary finally looked toward him.
He was crying silently. Mary stared. "Dad."
His face twisted. Mary released her mother slowly and stepped toward him. Her father shook his head once. "Don't."
Mary stopped. For one terrible heartbeat she misunderstood. Then he opened his arms. "Don't walk."
Mary's breath caught. Her father continued. "Run."
Mary ran. She collided with him and wrapped her arms around the man who had once been strong enough to carry her as a little girl. He clung to his daughter with a desperate strength that ignored how much larger she had become. "Dad."
His voice broke. "My little girl."
Mary sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm here."
He held the back of her head. "I watched them close your casket."
Mary shook. "I know."
"I put my hand on it."
Mary's knees weakened. Her father held her upright. "I told you I loved you when I knew you couldn't hear me."
Mary pulled back enough to look at him. "I know now."
His eyes widened. Mary touched his face. "And I love you too."
Her father cried openly. "You always hated when I cried."
Mary laughed through tears. "No, Dad, you hated when people saw you cry."
He laughed once. "That's probably true."
Mary pulled him back into the embrace. "You can cry today."
Her father whispered, "I'm going to."
Behind them, Mary's daughters watched something many had never seen before. Mother, who had stood between them and every danger she could reach, had become small in the arms of her parents despite being physically taller than both of them. Enterprise whispered toward Belfast, "I've never seen Mom like this."
Belfast wiped her eyes. "Neither have I."
Mary's biological sister moved beside them and answered, "I have."
Enterprise looked toward her. "When?"
Her sister smiled sadly. "When she was our sister before she became everyone's mother."
That sentence struck every daughter at once. Mary had existed before them. She had once been a child. Someone had comforted Mother before Mother learned how to comfort everyone else. Enterprise looked toward Mary's parents with a new kind of understanding.
Mary eventually stood between them, one hand held by her mother and one by her father because neither parent seemed willing to risk losing physical contact. Her mother looked up at Mary again and touched the side of her face. "You're taller."
Mary laughed shakily. "Six-foot-five."
Her father stared upward. "When did that happen?"
Mary gestured vaguely at herself. "Resurrection."
Her father blinked. "Of course."
Mary's mother looked down at the flight deck beneath them and finally seemed to remember where they were standing. Her expression shifted slowly. "So this is…"
Mary swallowed. "Yes."
Her mother looked around at the enormous carrier. "This whole ship?"
Mary nodded. "All of it."
Her father stared toward the island marked with the white number 68. "You are USS Nimitz."
Mary squeezed his hand. "I am."
Her mother immediately looked back toward Mary's face. "But you're still Mary."
Mary's eyes filled again. "Yes."
Her mother nodded. "That's the part I care about."
Mary almost broke again. Her father, however, looked downward at the deck beneath his shoes. Mary noticed. "Dad?"
He crouched slightly and placed one hand flat against the dark-blue flight deck. Mary gasped. Her father's head snapped upward. "You felt that?"
Mary's mouth opened. "Yeah."
His face changed completely. He slowly spread his palm wider. "I'm touching you."
Mary nodded through tears. "Yes."
Her father stared at the deck. Then at his daughter. Then back at the deck. "This is insane."
Mary laughed. "Yes."
He stood again. "You're telling me I can hug you like this…" He wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "...and I can also hug you by hugging a bulkhead?"
Mary started laughing harder. "Technically."
Her father looked delighted despite the tears. "This is going to be weird."
Mary nodded. "You have no idea."
Her mother looked down thoughtfully. Then she removed one hand from Mary's arm and placed it against the flight deck. Mary closed her eyes. Her mother's touch registered through the immense carrier body not like human skin contact but as localized pressure translated by the Wisdom Cube into unmistakable awareness.
Mary whispered, "Mom."
Her mother looked up. "You felt me too?"
Mary nodded. "Yeah."
Her mother started crying again. "So when I stand here…"
"You're standing on me."
Her mother covered her face. "That sentence is horrible."
Mary burst out laughing. Her father laughed too. Mary's sister called from nearby, "We've been dealing with that since yesterday."
Mary pointed toward her without releasing either parent. "You are not helping."
Her sister smiled. "I never do."
The daughters began approaching only after Mary had enough time to exist with her parents without being overwhelmed by everyone else. Enterprise came first because she had been beside Mother through death and rebirth more than anyone, but the legendary carrier suddenly looked deeply nervous.
Mary noticed. "Enty?"
Enterprise glanced toward Mary's mother. Mary understood. She smiled. "Come here."
Enterprise walked closer. Mary looked toward her parents. "Mom, Dad, this is Enterprise."
Her mother gave a tearful laugh. "I know who Enterprise is."
Mary shook her head. "No, I mean really."
Enterprise looked at Mary. Mary continued, "This is my eldest daughter."
Enterprise's face collapsed. Mary's mother stared at her for only a moment before opening her arms. Enterprise froze. Mary whispered, "Go."
Enterprise crossed the distance. Mary's mother hugged her. Enterprise began sobbing. "Grandma."
Mary's mother held her tighter. "I suppose I am."
Enterprise's shoulders shook. "I lost Mom."
Mary's mother's own grief returned immediately. "So did I."
Enterprise clung to her. "I didn't know what to do without her."
Mary's mother closed her eyes. "Neither did I."
Mary watched two generations of her family hold each other over the same wound. Her father moved beside Enterprise and placed one hand gently on her shoulder. Enterprise looked toward him. He smiled through tears. "If Mary calls you her daughter, that makes you ours too."
Enterprise's mouth fell open. "Grandpa?"
Her father nodded. "If you'll have me."
Enterprise threw herself into his arms. Mary completely lost the fight against her tears. Belfast approached next, but the Royal Maid did not look like a secretary at all. She looked like a daughter whose entire identity had finally been made explicit enough that nobody could mistake it. Mary opened one arm. "Mom, Dad, Belfast is my daughter too."
Belfast's eyes filled. "And my secretary."
Her father raised an eyebrow. Mary added quickly, "Daughter first."
Belfast smiled. "Always."
Mary's mother hugged Belfast and said, "Then you're my granddaughter before you're my daughter's secretary."
Belfast cried instantly. "Thank you."
Akagi and Kaga approached together, the Sakura sisters visibly trying to understand whether this new family connection extended across faction, nationality, species, and history. Mary smiled. "Mom, Dad, Akagi and Kaga are my daughters."
Akagi bowed deeply. "Grandmother, Grandfather."
Mary's father blinked. Mary whispered, "You have Japanese granddaughters now."
He looked toward her. "How many countries am I inheriting?"
Mary started laughing. "Most of them."
Her mother shook her head in disbelief. "I buried one daughter and got her back with an international fleet of grandchildren."
New Jersey called from farther back, "Pretty good return on investment!"
Mary immediately shouted, "New Jersey!"
Her father started laughing. "I like that one already."
New Jersey looked triumphant. Mary groaned. "Oh no."
Mary's mother hugged Akagi first, and the fox carrier immediately dissolved into tears when the older woman stroked her hair. "You're family," Mary's mother told her, and Akagi whispered, "Thank you, Grandmother."
Kaga entered the embrace next with more restraint, but her composure broke when Mary's father told her, "Nobody needs to earn family twice."
Vestal remained close to Mary's mother after the earlier hug, while Unicorn approached quietly holding Mary's hand.
Mary looked down. "Sweetheart?"
Unicorn looked toward Mary's parents. "Can I?"
Mary's mother immediately crouched slightly despite tears. "Come here."
Unicorn walked directly into her arms. "Grandma."
Mary's mother hugged her. Mary had to look away. Her father noticed. "You okay?"
Mary laughed while crying. "No."
He put one arm around her. Mary leaned into him. "This is too much."
Her father kissed the side of her head. "You've had a hell of a week."
Mary snorted. "Dad, it's Monday."
He stared at her. Mary laughed harder. "That makes it worse."
Her mother eventually stood again with Unicorn holding one of her hands, and Mary looked at the growing scene with disbelief. Her parents had boarded expecting one returned daughter. They now stood surrounded by grandchildren who happened to be warships. Hornet introduced herself with considerably more confidence than Enterprise had shown. Yorktown followed with a quiet hug. New Jersey deliberately waited until last among the immediate daughters, then approached Mary's father with a grin. "So you're Grandpa."
He looked at her. "So you're the one encouraging Mary."
New Jersey glanced toward Mother. "I prefer supporting her personal growth."
Mary barked a laugh. "My personal growth almost involved thirty-six knots on the first day!"
Her father looked horrified. "You were going to do what?"
Mary pointed at New Jersey. "She suggested it!"
New Jersey immediately protested, "I joked about it!"
Vestal stepped forward. "I stopped both of them."
Mary's father looked at Vestal with enormous relief. "You're my favorite granddaughter."
New Jersey put a hand over her heart. "Grandpa!"
Everyone burst out laughing. Mary's mother looked toward Mary again, and the laughter slowly softened into something quieter. "Can I see where you live?" she asked.
Mary blinked. "Where…I live?"
Her mother nodded. "Your room."
Mary's expression changed. "You mean my quarters."
Her mother smiled. "I mean your room."
Mary laughed softly. "Yeah."
Her mother squeezed her hand. "I want to see the place you woke up this morning."
Mary's heart tightened. "Okay."
Her father looked around the flight deck. "And I want to see your bridge."
Mary smiled. "Of course you do."
He pointed upward toward the island. "You said you can feel us walking around?"
Mary nodded. "Once I pay attention."
Her father looked thoughtful. "So you've known exactly where we've been since we landed?"
Mary hesitated. "I could."
Her mother raised an eyebrow.
"Mary."
Mary immediately raised both hands.
"Privacy rules! We established privacy rules this morning."
Her sister started laughing.
Mary continued rapidly, "I can sense broad presence and activity, but I am deliberately not listening through internal microphones or looking through cameras unless there's a safety or operational reason."
Her father nodded slowly. "Good."
Mary smiled. "I thought you'd approve."
He looked around again. "Still weird."
Mary laughed. "Very."
The family began moving toward the island, but Mary's mother stopped after only a few steps. She turned around and looked across the flight deck, taking in the dark-blue expanse, aircraft positioned farther away, sailors moving through duties, the white markings, the immense island, and the endless sea around them.
Mary waited. Her mother looked back toward her. "This entire thing is my daughter."
Mary nodded. "Yes."
Her mother laughed through tears. "You always did take up too much room."
Mary stared. Her sister doubled over. Her father laughed loud enough that several nearby sailors heard him. Mary put one hand over her heart. "Mom!"
Her mother walked back and kissed her cheek. "I missed teasing you."
Mary's anger disappeared instantly. "I missed it too."
Her mother touched her face. "I missed everything."
Mary's smile trembled. "So did I."
Her father joined them and placed his hand against Mary's shoulder. "You know what the strangest part is?"
Mary looked at him. "What?"
He smiled. "You feel exactly like my daughter."
Mary swallowed. "Because I am."
He nodded. "That's all I needed."
Mary closed her eyes. For all the explanations about Wisdom Cubes, resurrection, Kansen dual forms, nuclear reactors, radar integration, ship awareness, and consciousness distributed across humanoid and carrier bodies, her father had reduced the question to something simpler.
He had hugged his daughter. His daughter had hugged him back. That was enough. Mary opened her eyes. "Dad?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
He smiled. "I love you too."
Mary looked toward her mother. "Mom?"
Her mother already knew. "I love you too, baby."
Mary laughed and cried simultaneously. "I haven't been called a baby in decades."
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "You died and came back as an aircraft carrier. I get one day."
Mary nodded immediately. "Fair."
Enterprise stood nearby and whispered toward Belfast, "Grandma is the only person who can win an argument with Mom that quickly."
Belfast smiled. "I intend to learn everything I can."
Mary turned toward them. "I heard that."
Enterprise grinned. "You said broad awareness."
Mary pointed at her ears. "I heard that normally."
Belfast laughed. Mary's father leaned toward his wife. "Our daughter really did adopt warships."
Mary heard that too. She smiled. Her mother looked around at Enterprise, Belfast, Yorktown, Hornet, New Jersey, Vestal, Unicorn, Akagi, Kaga, and the other daughters gathering at a respectful distance. "No."
Mary's father raised an eyebrow. His wife smiled. "She became their mother."
Mary's expression softened. Her mother continued, "That's different."
Mary squeezed her hand. "Yeah."
Her father smiled. "And apparently that made us grandparents to a navy."
Mary corrected it automatically. "Several navies."
He stared at her. Mary grinned. "Long story."
Her father sighed. "Of course it is."
The group finally entered the island, with Mary's parents repeatedly touching bulkheads along the way simply to see whether their daughter would react. The first time her father tapped one lightly, Mary glanced backward and said, "Dad."
He immediately grinned. "You felt that."
Mary pointed at him. "Do not spend the entire tour poking the ship."
He tapped the bulkhead again. Mary stared. Enterprise started laughing. Mary's father looked delighted. "This is fantastic."
Mary's mother shook her head. "You're encouraging yourself."
He replied, "Our daughter is a nuclear carrier, and you're expecting me not to test whether she can feel a wall tap?"
Mary groaned. "I survived the missile attack for this."
Her mother slipped an arm through Mary's. "Yes."
Mary smiled. "Worth it."
They reached the bridge again, where the crew remained on heightened readiness following the attack but had enough space to allow the family to enter without interfering with operations. Mary's father became quiet immediately as he looked around the command center inside his daughter's vessel body.
Mary noticed. "What?"
He slowly shook his head. "You're standing on your own bridge."
Mary nodded. "Yes."
"And you're also the bridge."
Mary laughed. "Technically part of me."
He looked toward the crew. "And they still operate the ship?"
Mary's answer came without hesitation. "Absolutely."
She placed one hand against a nearby console. "I can feel systems, senses, propulsion, weapons, and parts of the ship in ways I never could as a human, but I don't replace my crew."
Her father smiled proudly. "Good answer."
Mary rolled her eyes affectionately. "Dad, I'm still an admiral."
He shrugged. "Still my daughter."
Mary's mother came to stand beside her. "And apparently still our little girl."
Mary looked down at her six-foot-five frame. "Little?"
Her mother smiled. "Always."
Mary gave up. Enterprise watched the exchange and smiled with tears in her eyes because she finally understood something about Mother's love that no battle or lecture had ever completely explained.
Mary had learned how to mother from somewhere. She had learned to stay. To protect. To tease. To forgive.
To keep holding people when they broke. Some of that had begun with the two people standing beside her now. Mary looked through the bridge windows toward the Gulf of Aden while both parents remained physically close enough to touch her. Around them, USS Nimitz continued moving under her own power, protected by a multinational fleet that had just survived a saturation missile attack without losing a single ship. Mary's mother looked toward the sea. "So what happens now?"
Mary took a deep breath. "Eventually we finish the rescue aftermath, figure out who supported the missile attack, return everybody home, and somehow explain to half the world why your daughter is now a nuclear-powered Kansen."
Her father nodded. "Simple."
Mary laughed. "Very."
Her mother leaned into her. "And before all that?"
Mary looked at both parents. Her expression softened. "Before all that, you meet your granddaughters."
Her father looked toward the door where an alarming number of ship girls were already waiting. "How many?"
Mary hesitated. Her mother narrowed her eyes. "Mary."
Mary smiled guiltily. "A lot."
Her father sighed. "Define a lot."
New Jersey called from outside the bridge, "You might want to sit down, Grandpa!"
Mary closed her eyes. Her father smiled. "I really like that one."
Mary pointed toward the door. "She is a terrible influence."
Her mother laughed. "On you?"
Mary nodded. Her father shrugged. "Too late."
Mary looked at her parents and daughters, then out toward the carrier body she was still learning to understand. She had thought resurrection meant getting her life back. It was becoming clear that it meant something larger. Her parents had gotten their daughter back. Her daughters had gotten their mother back.
Mary had gotten her family back from both directions at once. She reached for her mother's hand with one side and her father's with the other. "Welcome aboard."
Her father squeezed her fingers. "It feels strange saying this aboard our daughter."
Mary smiled. "Get used to it."
Her mother kissed Mary's cheek. "We will."
And for the first time since her funeral, Mary Elizabeth Nimitz stood between both of her parents and did not have to say goodbye.