Essex-O-Clock: SecNav Edition

"Ah! There she is!" A voice says from the shadows.

I throw open the doors to the conference room and pose, cocking my hips and crossing my arms beneath my chest, fingers tapping at the crook of my elbow. Colbert sat on my shoulder, his piercing gaze keeping a sharp eye for threats. All other eyes? On me. At least I, think they're on me. There's a bunch of huge tvs in here, each with a different face waiting. The glare from the monitors is almost blinding. The effect was intimidating. Having to stare down the Secretary of the Navy like this, I wouldn't blame a lesser man for flinching.

However, FEAR is not in the dictionary that Essex knows! I mean, yes, it was in my dictionary. I did know the definition. TECHNICALITIES. Fear is for the Japanese– Wait. No. They were tenacious and fought like the Alamo on the islands– FEAR is for the ITALIANS! However, I am composed! Elegant! Perfection! I stride down the long carpet to mahogany conference table with measured grace. My heels dig into the soft carpet as I walk by the sole marine in the room–

*FWACK*– *SQUUUAWK*

And I trip, face planting into the red, velvety carpet.

ONE TIME, I think to my self, I trip over the Nautilus ONE TIME, and everyone remembers me as klutz! At least Colbert was fine. The bird had taken off and escaped from my tumble. My momentum carries me face over, and I'm rolling, crashing through the furniture, until I'm finally able to leverage my core, and pop off the ground.

Dust lingers in the air among the mess of strewn chairs thrown aside. Unhurt, legs crossed, and impossibly relaxed, I sat in the soft leather chair at the head of the conference table. I brush the dark locks back in place and adjust my headband. A perfect landing, I think to myself. There's a flutter of wings, and Colbert returns to his perch on my shoulder.

"Gentlemen, our newly returned carrier, and lead ship of her class." SecNav says, warmly clapping as he introduces me to his staff. "CV-9 Essex. She likes to make an entrance."

CALCULATED.

"It's good to be back, sir." I smile at the crowed, settling into my smug and assured aura. "You wanted to discuss something with me?"

He nods. "Jimmy, if you could?" SecNav says, and the marine behind me clacks away on his little device. Suddenly, a bunch of screens light up, and charts and graphs appear. Viewer numbers, page hits, something about "Internet traffic", pie charts showing poll results, a complicated web of various people– Oh hey! Admiral Beatrice was on there!– and more importantly, various instances of that "web stream" I walked in on. My eyes widen in shock and embarrassment as I watch my self valiantly, and fruitlessly, fight against the "anonymous horde" of "4chan" as they invaded Kongou's stream.

"DELETE THIS!" I sputter, dropping all compares and turning the same shade of crimson my other self in the monitor glowed with. That was when those monsters were asking me HORRIBLE questions! Like my weight! You don't ask a lady how much she weighs! That's rude!

"I'm sorry Miss Essex, but that isn't possible." An admiral says. There's a clock on his screen. It's past midnight? Whoa, is he talking to me from Washington? "The stream was public and open to the public. It's been spread all over the Internet!"

"Can I delete the Internet?" I ask, watching in horror as a clip of myself shaking it to a pop song starts playing across a monitor. All over the world already? It had been a few hours at most! This "Internet" made radio and television look slow as the postal service!

"I'm afraid not." SecNav chuckles to himself. "A strange thing about the Internet. Everything that passes through, it stays forever."

"That's terrifying, sir. Will you be bringing those hooligans who were asking me lewd questions to justice?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Essex. The Internet loves its anonymity." SecNav says. "Jimmy, pull up the world map please?" There's a clacker of keys, and the main screen is showing a map of the modern world. Oh, wow. There's so many new countries here. "See all those pins there, Essex?" I nod. Red tack pins littered the map, their spread reaching all over the world, but especially concentrated in the NATO sphere. "Those pins mark places where your stream drew in large numbers of viewers. The total count is in the millions! You're a star on YouTube!"

I take a look at the map again. Hold on. Something was missing. "Sir. The USSR isn't on this map!" They were gone, and in their place was a large number of nations orbiting Russia. "It's just the Russians now?"

"Correct." Another staff member says. "A lot has changed while you were gone. I know it must be a shock, but the USSR collapsed. They're gone."

"SO WE WON!" I shout. "WE DID IT BOIS! WE BEAT THE COMMIES!" I say, fist bumping with my bald eagle.

"Not exactly!" SecNav says. His eyes were lit up with glee. That's never good. It's never good when the God behind God is grinning with glee. "The USSR is gone, and the Cold War is over, but there's still communists in the world." Paul-Bunyan's-Crusty-Trousers! I should have known that cancer wouldn't have died so easily! "In fact, some of them are even our allies. The Chinese are our largest and most profitable trade partners."

"The chinks? I thought they were isolationists!"

"They've opened up their markets in the last few decades. The almighty dollar is a amazing force. They're our allies, officially, but God help me if they haven't been a thorn in the side for the last few years."

"How so sir?" I ask, pretending to be examining my nails. Hell yes. Time to sock it to the chinks! Time to get them back for helping the Norks in Korea!

"They don't like you." SecNav says, in a rather blunt fashion.

"Sir, I don't understand. I thought you said the world loved me!"

"Well, they do as well. At least, Chinese citizens do." SecNav says as he riffles through his papers. "But the CCP, they are very much not enamored by your... assets. The Chinese had no notable naval assets in the war, Essex. The leading theory is that they are very unlikely to ever successfully summon a Hull. However," He motions to Jimmy, and a chart of Japanese and American Hull assets appears to the conference. "Their neighbors can, and they've been bringing as many they could. In the last two years, the Japanese have gained at least six new carrier assets, each at their prime and comparable to modern carriers."

"They're terrified."

"Yes. Exactly." He says, pointing a finger at me. "And even more so, they're afraid of you. You've returned, and now they're afraid your sisters will return too. All twenty-three of them."

I wince. There's a hammering across my head as he speaks. My sisters. There's. There's fuzzy memories. I can recall the barest images of them, all of us, fighting together in the pacific. It hurt to remember, to try and recall them. Even their names escaped me, but I was so proud of each and every one of them. I KNOW I was proud of them!

"Essex! Essex! Can you hear us? Are you alright, dear?" I slowly open my eyes at the sound of SecNav's voice. Jimmy is next to me, gently shaking my shoulder. Did I black out?

"I'll be fine, sir." I say. Was this going to happen every time? "What are the Chinese doing to be a thorn in your side sir? Is there anything I can do to help? A little 'American carrier group just sailing by your coast' kinda message?"

His eyes light up even brighter. Oh fuck-doodles, I said something I shouldn't have, didn't I?

"As a matter of fact, you can!" He claps his hands together and smiles at me. Burr-Hamilton-Slash-Fics-Why, the stream was a mistake. A MISTAKE! "You see, the Chinese have been running propaganda for years now, telling everyone how terrifying you girls are. As for me? I think that's bullshit, but it won't stop soccer moms in Kansas from panicking. See, no one wants to listen to an old man like talk about how wonderful you all are, but they do want to see you!"

"I'm not sure I follow sir."

"I want you to continue streaming."

"What." The board goes quite as the Secretary of the Navy reveals his scheme. I could have heard a pin drop. Admirals and staff around the world looked at him quizzically, already questioning his master plan.

"Your performance was a massive hit, and a massive PR boost to the Navy." SecNav says, his hands animatedly moving about as he spoke. "Everyone wants to meet you, everyone wants to talk to you. I have an list of interview requests from every broadcast station and paper there, and they all want to get to know you.

"And as for the Chinese?" He snickers, before he breaks into laughter. You shudder. That wasn't a sound you ever wanted to hear again. "You should have seen the horror across their ambassador's face, as their entire propaganda machine fell apart before his eyes! All because of you! It was beautiful Essex, and so, I want you to keep doing it!" The UNGRATEFUL BASTARD! He was THROWING me under the PROVERBIAL bus!

“I get it, sir.” I say. “NOW it makes sense. See, this is just a bad dream. All I have to do is *pinch* myself and I'll- OW!" Okay. This wasn't a dream. "So, I just have to hold that stream, and humiliate myself in front of the world, and face their teasing and ridicule and their perversive and invasive questioning. I understand sir."

"Don't put it like that!" SecNav waves away my concerns, "Think of it more like... FDR's Fireside chat's over the radio! Jimmy over here will be helping you prepare and get ready! Oh, and he'll be moderating to stop the worst of the man children."

"Th-thanks Jimmy." I say, giving him a thumbs up through half-teared eyes. He gives a thumbs up back. At least I have him for this ride. And as for that Four-Chan, I was going to sock it to his fat face!

"This is going to be wonderful!" SecNav laughs manically again. This time, even the rest of the board shudders in fear. "I can't wait! Their entire campaign! Years of their bullshit! And you, Essex, are going to tear it all down to nothing! Congratulations! You're the face of the American hull fleet!" He snickers to himself again. The bastard had played me like a seven colored puppet on a magician's string! "I think that brings this meeting to a close! It was nice meeting you CV-9. I'm *very* happy to have you on board!"

"It's good to be back, sir." I stand and snap a salute. "It's good to be back." With a buzz, and the monitors shut down and the conference call is over. I collapse into my chair. "Jimmy. Jimmy, where did it all go wrong?" So soft. I could sink into this chair forever. Hopefully, I could sink so deep, they'd never find me.

"Going by stories ma'am, somewhere between you crashing the Iwo Jima op, and skating that piano down the tarmac."

"And I hold Jimmy, skating that piano was the tightest thing ever." I toss my head onto the table. Could this have been anywise? Why couldn't they have asked Kongou to do it? She liked this stuff, right? Like water, or maybe a kitten, I flow downward like water, melting to the floor. "I'm going to be a LAUGHING STOCK Jimmy! Never ending questions about puuchis, and jabs about my height, and teasing me over the smallest thing!"

I inch my way across the carpet. "Ping!" It's over. Goodby dignity, hello news story. "Ping!" Later Jimmy, Essex has a date with a stiff drink. "Ping!" I'm out the door. "Ping!" I'm in the hallway. "Ping!" I've run into an obstruction. I look up at the object in the way and my eyes trace their way up a pair long, toned legs.

"Yankee."

Oh. I recognize that voice. She was that bitch on comms during Iwo.

"Burning Bush."

"What are you doing?"

"Ping." I say to her. "I'm a submarine now, hiding from the world." I donk my forehead against her shin again. "Ping! I bump into carriers because I'm a submarine. Up periscope. Nice abaft, Burning Bush."

SHIT. I roll away as Kaga's heel comes crashing down where my head just was, splinters flying as it smashes through the floor.

"Yankee pig!"

"That was a *compliment*, nip! Take it to heart! Black lace looks good on you!"

I roll away, and there's a crashing sound once again as Kaga drives her heel through the space my head had just occupied. George Washington above, this woman was out for blood. I take the chance to pop back to my feet and look at her for the first time.

Porcelain skin, but tanned just the slightest brown, wrapped taut across sinewy muscle. She was fit, the kind of build I'd expect from a woman who was an athlete her whole life. Lithe, that was the best way to describe her: thin and elegant. Dark brown locks of silky hair framed her almond eyes; an irritated look etched into her face.

"I see." Kaga says. "Here's a compliment. You dress like a whore."

"Oi! Not my fault on that one!" Knew it. Bitch. Sharp tongue and witty, but still a bitch. "I couldn't gather all of myself together, alright?" I point to my quiver. It's insides open to the elements, the complicated machinery whirring away underneath. "If I had a choice, I'd have woken up at Canal Street in London," I flick my hair over my shoulder, "and not in the middle of Japan."

Kaga's eyes narrow at me. "Rezu", she says. Uh oh. Did she catch that? I didn't think anyone would catch that.

"Uh, my name is Essex. Not 'Rezu'. Thank you for trying though. English is difficult language, I understand."

"No Yankee, that's what you are. 'Rezu'. I think I shall call you that from now on. It's a fitting name."

And with that, she was gone, walking down the hallways to her destination. What. A bitch. Not my problem though. "Lets go Colbert!" I hold out my arm and my eagle soars down the hallway to perch on his favorite spot. "We gotta go meet up with Hamp!"