Author's Note

Fashionably Late here and I’m just gonna post the chapter now instead of waiting for some ‘peak hours’ tomorrow. Initially I was worried about Arizona’s motivation for siding with the Equestrians long term. It’s one thing to oppose a bombardment of civilians it’s another to fight a war on-behalf of a foreign nation. So... maybe I botched that maybe I didn’t. And then... Pinkie Pie. Honestly, I’m going to need next chapter to properly deal with her, and that’s going to take even more time. Still, four or five chapters this month has to be a christmas miracle. If ya enjoy it then leave a comment... and probably some advice to writing Pinkie Pie... Please?

Chapter 22: A, new, reason to fight

"She's here, ma’am."

"Send her in."

The guard nods, stepping aside and gesturing to the door handle.

Here goes nothing. I twist the doorknob, pushing open the door, which emits an ominous squeak.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating a large office. A large wooden, mostly empty, bookshelf lines one wall along with a potted plant in the corner. On the opposite wall was a line of pictures, each one depicting a warship at port. The larger two depicted wooden ships of the line whilst the rest show a combination of wooden sailing ships and early ironclads. At the center of the room laid a desk buried in paperwork and a heavily used typewriter.

And behind that typewriter sat a light blue mare midway to rising to her hoofs.

I snap-to on reflex, though my hoof begins to fall after a few seconds.

"I, uhh, don't actually know if I should be saluting, ma’am. I'm not exactly a part of your navy nor do our countries recognize one another, I think.”

"I won't exactly stand on procedure. I doubt it exists for this, anyway." She says as a small smile creases her lips as she returns the salute. "Though, if you wouldn't mind introducing yourself?"

I transitioned to a parade rest.

“I am the second ship of the Pennsylvania class battleships Arizona, hull number BB-39.”

"And do you mind if I ask how that works? Are you a spirit, or…" Admiral Water Drops trailed off.

I frowned as I thought about it.

“Before the events of last night, I was a battleship.” At Water Drops uncomprehending stare I continued to elaborate. “I was one of thirty-nine battleships built for the United States Navy, the fourth of the American Standards and the first to be de… destroyed as a result of enemy action.”

“So, you were some kind of ship before? And you were destroyed? Does that mean that you were…”

“Dead? Yes.” I confirmed before staring off into the distance. “My memories are… different from before. I'm not sure I can really explain it, really. The last thing I, actually, remember is the roar of aircraft, the howl of falling ordinance, and… my crew… burning to death… inside my hulk."

I couldn’t keep my voice from wavering as I continued. Or keep from flinching as Water Drops stared at me in horror and pity. I… I needed to nip this in the bud now.

“I wasn’t really alive back then, even before dying. It's all vague impressions and feelings. Not something as concrete as my memory is now. I didn’t feel anything from sailing across the waters. I… I knew that Pennsylvania was my sister back then, but I didn’t love her as I do now or… at least I miss her.” I had to take a breath. “I only have vague recollections of my time at the bottom of Pearl Harbor. My superstructure was salvaged with my guns from Turret two being straightened, relined, and installed on Nevada. My submerged hull was made into a memorial to commemorate the events of the attack. And, somehow, I know that the war has been over for a while and that only I and Oklahoma and Utah were… complete losses. My sister, Pennsylvania, and the other battleships survived.”

"I'm sorry." Water Drops sighed, taking a step back, and gazing down at one of the desk drawers. "That's… a matter for another day, I think." She motions to a chair on my side of the desk as she grabs his own. "If you'd have a seat, Miss Arizona."

I comply, plopping down into the chair.

"First, let me ask you, how much do you know about what happened last night?”

I left nothing out that I couldn't recollect. Including the part where I was another one of those ships shooting at Bronclyn, trapped aboard my own hull with my guns operating in mutiny of my own frantic and desperate attempts to stop them.

"That's quite the claim." Water Drops noted.

"I know." I said, nodding. "I don't… I don't know how I even got there or why I was aboard my hull which should still be at Pearl. I’m not even sure how getting shot turned me into this.” I gestured at all of my pony things.

“And that formation that retreated after you fought back, what do you think it was?”

“It looked like some transports, and a light escort. If I’m being honest, it looked like an invasion force.” I could see the blood dream from her face.

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Silence pervaded the room for what felt like a very long time.

"I won't lie to you. We're up against a wall, here."

Water Drops swallowed, and took a deep breath, and looked down at the desk before continuing.

"This is… it's worse than the Storm King, that's for sure. After Princess Luna’s return it's been one disaster after another." Her eyes came back up to meet mine. "We need help, Arizona. If you can replicate what you did here, even once… it would be invaluable to Equestria. Would you accept a commission?" She asks, extending her hoof.

I sigh, gazing at the floor. I start speaking, almost before I even realize, voice soft.

"I was launched in nineteen-fifteen. My designers envisioned me as part of the Standard-type battleships, a series of thirteen battleships across five classes capable of operating together as a tactical unit. To achieve victory in the decisive battle of annihilation between two fleets as the way to win command of the seas. But that's not how things turned out." I look up, feeling a subtle wetness growing in the corners of my eyes. “I and the rest of our task force were attacked at port not by battleships but by aircraft launched from Japan’s aircraft carriers. We never saw them coming, we thought we were safe. We were wrong. I could do nothing as they dropped bombs on us and I was killed when one of their bombs penetrated my forward magazines and detonated. While my sister and the rest of the Standards were being repaired, our aircraft carriers fought the decisive battle and won. When Pennsylvania and the others were repaired they were no longer the heart of the fleet, carriers were.” I paused for emphasis.

“Even if I could be sent back, there’s nothing back there for me. I died before Japan declared war, and in the end we still won. My sister, Pennsylvania, and the rest of the Standards gave their all and were decommissioned after the war, either scrapped or expended as targets. Carriers were the new queens of the seas. What you are offering me is the opportunity to not only prove myself but to fulfill, for the first time ever, the purpose I was given. It's... meaningful to a point that I don't know if I can even express it to a non-ship spirit." I look the Admiral directly in the eyes, and grasp her hoof. "So I'd have to be literally insane to turn you down, ma’am."

The admiral seems slightly taken aback by my speech, before smiling broadly.

Standing orders were to assist in the defence of Manehattan. To that end I was to remain on base, and at all times be prepared to sortie within fifteen minutes. As long as I abided by these two restrictions, I could consider myself at liberty. Wealthy Guardian would be accompanying me until the communication issue was sorted.

"So, where to, ma'am?"

"Chow. I'd prefer a top-up before a fight and I took a torpedo hit, so I'll need some yard time before I do a crossing. And you don't have to 'ma'am' me, I feel bad enough that you're having to follow me around already."

"Of course, ma'am." Wealthy Guardian replies, a grin growing across his face.

I roll my eyes.

Lieutenant junior grade.

Water Drops couldn’t rely on the normal procedures to deal with the Morgana, the name that the ship mare Chesapeake coined, and there wasn’t any protocol for us ship mares. So she was going to need me as a liaison between her and any other ship mares that fall into her command. Someone who could relate to them on a personal level. And even if I and Chesapeake were the only ones here then she would still need us to ID the enemy and outline their capabilities. If Water Drops hadn’t needed approval then she would have made me Lieutenant Commander on the spot for defending Bronclyn and fighting their war. As is, despite having served in the navy for my entire life, I still felt unqualified. Time-in-grade I did not have.

"Though, if that's the case, what do you want me to call you?"

"When we're off the clock, Ari is fine."

"Ari, huh? I get that it’s a nickname, but what sort of name is Arizona? What does it mean?”

“I’m not sure. I’m named after the state of Arizona, but I never thought about the origin of the name itself. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’ve never heard of a name like that. Even amongst the other races like dragons, griffons and the recently returned hippogriffs. I don’t think even a science-fiction writer could come up with the name Arizona. No offence.”

“To be honest? If names like Water Drops and Wealthy Guardian are common here, then I think American and pony names are simply incompatible. No offence.”

Wealthy Guardian snorted.

“Touche. Anyway, mess is right up… here…"

He trails off as the building comes into view. Every single window on the large two-story concrete building is missing and several chunks are taken out of the facade. Through the windows, I can see a section of collapsed roof in the interior.

Outside, two MPs stand guard, currently in a discussion with a couple of angry-looking ratings.

"Okay, new plan. How do you feel about an on-base restaurant?”

Mercifully, the restaurant was open. There were a few shell holes in the parking lot, along with the remains of a few carriages which were unlucky enough to find themselves in the firing line. The neighboring pizza place, too, was a victim of the battle, considering only about half of its roof is still standing.

However, judging by the line of agitated-looking sailors and contractors extending out the front door, and down the sidewalk, we aren't the only ones with this idea.

"Buck." Wealthy Guardian states, more than remarks.

"I'd suggest we go somewhere else, but considering that the only other places we’ve seen have been shelled in I think we should just wait here."

"Great. Well, let's get to it, then." He says, beginning to walk to the end of the line.

"Any ideas for how to pass the time?"

"Hmm…" The stallion thinks for a moment.

In the end we decided to trade stories. I started with my earliest memory, my launch. So many people were there to see me, the mayor of New York City, the governor of Arizona, and even several other warships, including Florida, Utah, Wyoming, Arkansas, New York, and Texas. A sea of faces, all focused on me, with each face full of hope.

A stray thought had crossed my mind now, exactly how many had I disappointed.

Wealthy Guardian had shared a story about a unicorn aboard a corvette who was craving some warm food after his watch station on the aft weather deck. Needless to say I wasn’t expecting that story to end with the Wonderbolts, an elite squadron of pegasi, being called to investigate a three-mile wide contact that descended from space.

I hadn’t expected to enter the restaurant with a tremendous BOOM either.