Chapter Text
"Run the academy, he said," Langley huffed as she pulled in a box of yellowing books. "It'll be easy, he said."
For the foreseeable future, the base's small academy would be her domain. And what a domain it was: plain concrete walls with barely a window in sight, a library that begged to be filled…
It was a fixer-upper, definitely. Langley wouldn't even argue that someone didn't need to do it, but she couldn't help but feel a little snubbed. Maybe the Commander wanted to keep her busy, what with Hornet filling her place, but it felt far too much like being replaced and shoved to the side for Langley's taste.
Regardless, she had a job to do, even if she didn't feel fully equipped to deal with it. Some scrounging about had revealed some old supplies and work paper, but her materials largely consisted of her own personal expertise and some aging textbooks.
But this was what she was supposed to do, wasn't it? She knew she'd never be premier among carriers, but she could help others.
When she set the box down, it sent dust flying into the air, making Langley cough. With a sigh, she went to find a broom.
The broom was put to good use in the coming days. First in beating back the dust, and then in tidying up splinters after one of the desks collapsed under her weight when she sat on it. She really inherited a dump.
Thankfully, it wasn't a useless dump. Well, it wasn't useless, at least.
"Langley? Miss Langley?" The cry was faint, but Langley shot towards the voice.
"Coming!"
As she rushed down the corridors as quickly as decent, she hoped the school would not prove inadequate.
She finally reached the entrance to find herself face-to-face with a shipgirl. That, of course, meant that they were a little short, but Langley had no particular problem with that either. White hair wasn't that odd compared to her own green… the massive wrench was an oddity, though.
"Hello? Were you looking for me?"
The shipgirl nodded enthusiastically. "I'm here to help, buli!"
"Did the Commander send you?"
"Yep yep!" She chirped, "I'm gonna bulinate this school!"
"Define 'bulinate', please," Langley asked.
"I dunno," the bulin shrugged, her expression as vacant as the base's fuel silos.
Great.
"Well, what can you do?"
"Cleaning and fixing, Miss Langley!"
"I'll give you the tour."
On the bright side, Langley had some help with her school project now. She could grapple with paperwork and curriculums while the Bulin handled her previous jobs. However…
From the corner of her eye, she saw the bulin staring out a window, so transfixed that the wrench slipped from her hands with a terrible clatter. The bulin didn't even blink.
One of the first decorations in her office- wasn't that satisfying?- was a calendar. It hung on the wall unobtrusively, plain paper and white paint behind it blending together. That only made the brilliant red marker encircling the date more vivid.
She had a fortnight now.
Assuming eight hours of sleep per day- she wasn't crazy- that was two hundred and twenty-four hours. Double that in… ship-hours? Man-hours? Perhaps that gave her Bulin assistant too much credit.
(She had actually grown fond of her. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, certainly, but the Bulin was relentlessly, almost aggressively, chipper, and tremendously faithful in Langley's ability to actually handle the school.)
Anyways.
She knew she would be woefully under-prepared for reaching the intricacies of battleship or vanguard combat. She supposed she could teach them to haul coal…
There was a knock at the door, and Langley's heart leaped. If the Commander had decided that she was ready to start early, she was going to-
Opening the door revealed a familiar face. "Langley!"
"Ranger!" The carrier in question embraced her. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Langley was swept up in her arms.
"The Commander said you needed a little help…?"
Langley gulped. "... yes. I could probably use some help."
Ranger smiled brightly. "Great. You know Penny, right?"
"Of course I do," Langley scoffed. She had been on the base longer than Langley had been, even.
"Well, once she finishes the commission she's on, she'll come and help out too!"
"That's wonderful " Langley could feel the anxiety just flowing away…
"Oh, and there are some German cruisers the Commander's going to send you soon!"
Now, why was she getting the impression that the school was starting to become a dumping ground?
Ranger had dragged Langley bodily to the docks to greet their fellow teachers as soon as possible.
"Shouldn't we give them a break?" Langley tried to argue.
"We'll have a break together, Langley! I know you need one too."
"I don't -"
Ranger laughed. "You do. Some booze won't kill you, right?"
"The base is supposed to be dry!"
Ranger blinked. "Really?"
"Yes, really!"
Ranger looked positively stupefied. "But… the Commander's bought me drinks before."
"Then he's violated the rules," Langley hissed.
Langley almost wanted to ask how many other girls were getting drinks and favors from the Commander, but refrained, just barely.
Soon enough, they were in the shadow of the girl's hulls- Pennsylvania's was familiar, of course, and then there were the graceful curves of the Konigsberg class.
Walking down the docks were the women themselves. Penn's plunging neckline showed rows of gauze wrapped around her stomach- still fresh, thankfully. She was talking quietly with the one wearing glasses, while the other two walked alongside. (That implied they were walking at the same place, though. One was practically running circles around the other.)
"Penn!" Ranger cried, waving.
Pennsylvania smiled and tried to rush over, but she flinched minutely with every step. Injuries bad enough to make steadfast Penn waver? Langley cringed.
"Isn't it a little early for drinks?" She laughed, lightly.
(Was Langley surrounded by alcoholics?)
"No drinks, unfortunately," Ranger said, giving Penn a folder. "You've got a new assignment!"
"A new assignment…?" She muttered, flicking through for a few moments as her brow furrowed. "He didn't."
"He did," Langley sighed.
"Say, is Arizona…?"
"No," Ranger said, stepping back as Penny's expression went from heated to furious. The paper crumpled.
"I'm going to throttle him."
It was at that moment that the Konigsberg sisters arrived, the one with the whip at their head. "Has the Commander been naughty again?" Langley did not like that tone.
"Naughty." Pennsylvania chuckled without humor, seeming to find that particular descriptor wildly insufficient.
Ranger desperately attempted to change the subject. "You three are the Konigsberg sisters, right? The Commander wants you to help at the school as well."
The energetic one who was running around earlier sighed. "I'm gonna be cooped up all day, aren't I?"
For a moment, Penny's anger seemed to cool, a bit of fond exasperation showing on her face.
The energetic one was Karlsruhe. The one wearing glasses was Koln. The whip carrier and potential sadist was Konigsberg herself. They, along with Penn and Ranger, made up her team. Wonderful.
Langley was flattered to see that they all bent to her leadership without too much issue. Ranger had actual reason to see Langley as her senior, while Penn… well, she still had respect for orders, even though she and Langley both shared a growing dislike of the Commander. An irreparable rake, that man. Thankfully, the Commander didn't decide to chase Arizona, or Langley had a feeling she'd have to help cover up a murder.
Penny's violently protective instincts aside, the others were nice enough. In the days before the opening, Langley was combatting more paperwork. In a moment of shocking generosity, the Commander had given the school a cut of commission profits for supplies and munitions. There was just the matter of keeping the accounts in order.
"Evening, Langley."
"Hello, Koln. Did you need something? I promise I'll get those dummy torpedoes to you…" she thought for a moment, "...soon."
Koln sat down next to her, grabbed a sheaf of paper, and pulled a pen from some pocket. Before Langley could field some sort of complaint, she was cut off. "You could stand to delegate a bit, I think."
"You don't need to-"
"But I want to." Koln smiled.
"Thanks."
"Now, do you really think we'll need that much minesweeping equipment?"
"If given a choice between being over-prepared or not sweeping enough mines…"
"Fair."
Konigsberg was, thankfully, similarly business oriented and no-nonsense, at least when she was on duty. Her… other characteristics would have been quite disturbing, but usually, she had a proper sense of decorum, barring some occasional implications with that crop of hers. Langley's initial worries had shrunk into a sense of annoyance regarding her occasional fondness for innuendo and double entendre. (She loved to poke fun at Ranger, who would acquire a horribly livid blush after just one or two jokes. Langley suffered no such ragging, of course.)
As for Karlsruhe? Just give her a job that would keep her moving, and she was golden.
There was also the matter of Miss Amazon. She had volunteered to do some work with the destroyers, but was working with a very different schedule than Langley and company. She was preoccupied with some silly little social club called the monarchy, after all.
(Langley was a self-respecting American woman/ship, and couldn't imagine bowing and scraping to some queen, with or without naval guns attached.)
Amazon was nice enough, but if she and Langley stood together for any length of time, someone would start making height jokes, and… well, Langley certainly didn't appreciate it, and Amazon had a remarkable hair-trigger temper.
The evening before they were to begin teaching, they had dinner. Penny's temper had cooled to a simmer at that point- she melted like butter when Arizona said she just wanted her big sister to be safe- so it was a surprisingly pleasant affair.
"Was this the Bulin's work?" Ranger asked, looking down at her plate.
"Yes." Langley said, marveling at how good it tasted. How repair skills translated to the kitchen, she'd never understand.
"It's good. Did she set some aside for herself?"
"No."
Ranger gasped. "We need to save her some!"
"It's not to her taste." Langley said, knowing full well just how odd the Bulin's taste was.
"Then what is?"
"Crude."
"Oil?"
"Yes," Langley shuddered. "She throws it back like water."
"Well," Ranger giggled, "at least it's not coal."
"That's no way to talk about your seniors, missy." Langley laughed. Jokes about her age, while certainly unflattering, stung less than being treated like a child. Really, she wasn't even the oldest on the base, so it wasn't that bad.
The food was actually remarkable. It vanished far too quickly, even with some light conversation in the middle of their meal. Honestly, Langley was about ready to call it a night, barring another quick check-up of the academy…
At least, that was her plan until Karlsruhe pulled out a bottle of schnapps with a manic grin on her face. Langley sighed. "Must we really? I'll remind you that we're not supposed to drink."
"As if anyone enforces those rules." Penny scoffed, "Like, fraternizing. Who is it this week?"
"I thought it was… Maya?" Koln mused.
"Really? I mean, isn't she a little…" Penny's voice petered out, and her gaze flicked toward Langley. "Testy?"
Langley refrained from comment, even if she suspected what Penny was going to say.
"Maybe it's the ears?" Karlsruhe suggested, "They're so floofy!"
"Fluffy." Koln corrected her sister absentmindedly.
"Buy Maya, really?" Ranger asked, curiosity burning in her eyes. "I mean, she doesn't seem like that sort of gal-"
"Ahem." Langley cleared her throat, avoiding a thoroughly unpleasant (to her) tangent. "Perhaps… I could indulge, a little, tonight. But not enough to impede our capabilities tomorrow."
"And here we thought you were a teetotaller," Konigsberg chuckled, "Do you need to be taught how to drink proper alcohol?"
"I'm fine." Langley declined.
"If you insist…" she chuckled, pouring measures of booze into glasses. Once everyone had some in front of them, Konigsberg smiled brilliantly and lifted her glass. "Prost!"
"Prost!"
"Considering that dynamic pressure and wing area will be the same for both lift and drag, the lift-to-drag ratio is as simple as comparing the lift and drag coefficients." With a final, chalky flourish, Langley stopped writing on the chalkboard.
Langley checked her watch and sighed. "That will be all for today, unfortunately." There was some murmuring as the carriers rose to their feet and filtered out of the class.
The subject matter was a little basic- the fundamentals of aircraft performance, enough to really understand the mechanics of the planes they were flying- so Langley got to see some fresh faces. (It seemed like there were always new carriers.)
It was funny how some things never changed. Langley had taught three separate Japanese carriers who were… well, they all put the "mad" in "madly in love with the Commander". At the moment, it was Taihou, who succeeded Junyou, who succeeded the infamous Akagi.
Taihou was sharp as a razor and horrifically determined if you could spin things right. The things she would do to impress the Commander beggared belief. All the self-confidence of a head of lettuce, though. Jealous, possessive, and terribly afraid of losing the Commander's attention…. she was quite the package.
Langley's job was to guide the next generation, after all, and if anyone needed help, it was that silly little bird…
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Independence until she cleared her throat. The light carrier lingered, smiling awkwardly.
"Apologies. Did you need something, Independence? I know Imperial units can be a bit tricky-"
"No, I'm fine." She sighed. "I'll cut to the chase. Do you want to hang out with me and Bataan sometime?"
Langley blinked. "Pardon?"
"Well, us light carriers should stick together, right?"
Almost automatically, Langley answered. "It would be unbecoming of a teacher to-"
"You're not just our teacher, right? You're our friend!"
Now how could Langley argue against that? (She would later learn that Bataan had coached her sister on delivering that exact line. A social butterfly, Independence was not.)
"How much?!" Seemed to be Independence's phrase of the day. First, she had asked when hearing Langley's budget for their little shopping adventure. In Langley's defense, she was naturally frugal! The paychecks just kind of… built up.
Independence delivered an equally shocked "How much!?" when presented with the price tag for the dress she was considering. Sure, Langley was dismayed by those prices- how vain, how wasteful!- but Independence seemed shell-shocked.
"Your sister seems to be having fits, Bataan."
Bataan looked up from the clothes she was browsing- painfully cutesy, in Langley's opinion, but there was no accounting for taste. "Hey, Independence, calm down a little…"
Langley would admit that once she got over her fear of delegating, it was actually quite an enjoyable experience. Admittedly, she spent far too much time worrying or wishing for status reports- to the point that Independence physically stopped her from using a phone. (What had Independence said? "You've made a pretty crappy school if it can't even run without you for a day." Bataan heard that and sighed into her hands.)
After Independence had recovered from her sudden onset of sticker shock, they did a bit more browsing, looking for something a little plainer. Bataan had been appalled by Langley's relative lack of casual wear, and she made it her personal mission to help expand Langley's wardrobe.
"I've heard vertical lines can make you look taller." Bataan suggested, holding up an admittedly charming dress in white and blue.
"Are you saying I'm short?"
For a moment, Bataan looked genuinely mortified, but when she saw Langley's smile, she laughed. "Oh, don't be mean, Langley!"
"Konigsberg's said I could stand to be a bit meaner," Langley mused.
"But that's Konigsberg," Bataan replied. "I mean, there's keeping order, and then there's…" She didn't have to elaborate. Even though Konigsberg only whipped the desks- to wake anyone unwise enough to doze in her classroom- she had acquired quite the reputation.
"I think she's the reason the Commander is so afraid to visit the school."
"Really?"
Their shopping trip was nearly soured by a bout of bad weather, but Langley had remembered an umbrella. Well, one umbrella. Three shipgirls under one umbrella was not the best combination, but they all took it in good cheer. So what if they were a little soaked by the time they had gotten back to the academy?
Sitting on the school's porch, still slightly damp with rain, were a dozen heavy boxes of instant curry. 'For Langley' was scrawled across the top, the Commander's chicken scratch so distinctive that there was no doubt about who sent it.
"How… thoughtful." After a moment of silence, they burst into giggles at the sheer absurdity of it.
The curry, she learned, was part of a plan. The Commander had, in his wisdom, decided to investigate the factors leading to a retrofit. What made a shipgirl capable of it? What changes did she undergo along the way?
And that meant that a lot of girls who were otherwise neglected were suddenly given a lot more attention. (During classes, there was much chatter about how a good retrofit might make you the apple of the Commander's eye.) And of all people, Langley had apparently had a tremendous aptitude for it, as did Ranger.
Koln and Karlsruhe did as well, although that left Penn and Konigsberg high and dry. Konigsberg was mostly content with it, but Penny was provoked- while she was a good teacher, certainly, she wanted to fight. She took her lack of a retrofit as some sort of personal offense, and it, admittedly, made her unpleasant to be around for a while. It was Arizona's intervention that spared them from Penny's fury, of course.
Meanwhile, Langley was left to undergo a battery of tests, training exercises, and some preliminary refits to prepare for the big one. It was an intensive process, and it bit into her teaching time significantly. While some small part of her found the idea of getting back into the fight quite exciting, she was pained to know that her preparations stole away precious time spent teaching.
(Houshou had been sent to fill in her place, apparently. Langley had nothing but respect for her, as one of the early carriers, but Langley would admit to having… idiosyncratic lesson plans. Poor Houshou was left playing codebreaker with them.)
Retrofitting was… a strange process. Langley's changes were not as significant as others- it was said that Yamashiro had gone up a cup size, to the envy of many a girl- but when she finally stumbled to her feet, everything just felt off.
The Commander's gaze did not help the unnerving feeling. In most ways, he was wholly unremarkable, someone Langley couldn't imagine gaining the attention of so many remarkable women, if not for the eyes. Black as the nighttime sea and just as deep- it was hard not to wonder what thoughts lingered behind those eyes.
(Duke of York was particularly fond of waxing poetic about them. Like a lovesick schoolgirl, complete with bad poetry.)
Well, others may have found them charming, Langley found them…. Ugh. They seemed set apart in some sense, as if he looked at them from a different world. Eyes as terrible as the yawning empty between the stars.
Maybe she had just never really experienced the warmth buried behind them, but Langley's skin crawled as he and Junyou (his current favorite) muttered to each other over sheets of data.
Several times, the Commander looked up at her, gazing hungrily, before he dove back into the papers. The air conditioner sent a blast of cold air over her uncovered shoulders. (The new outfit was weird.)
"You're dismissed, Langley."
"Sir?"
"Considering the data-" Oh, Langley was sure it was nothing but the data, "-I think you'll be most useful at the school. Your work has been exemplary, Langley."
"Thank you, sir."
She adjusted her new clothes and tried to avoid looking too relieved.
They had a little bash to celebrate Langley's retrofit. She was, of all of them, the first to be done with the process- there had been some bottlenecks in getting appropriate supplies for the cruisers, or so Langley had heard.
And somehow, it had turned into something like a birthday. There was food and drink- non-alcoholic, Langley insisted- and, of course, gifts. Konigsberg was the first to present her gift, and Langley had a sinking feeling the moment she saw the package's shape, all long and narrow.
Sure enough, inside, there was a delicate article of cane and leather… "You got me… a riding crop."
Konigsberg nodded proudly, and Koln looked ready to crawl into a hole somewhere.
"Our actual gift is this." Koln smiled and slid a case towards her. Inside were some penmanship supplies- lovely pens, good ink- and Langley smiled. Did she suspect that Karlsruhe probably paid into a sum that Koln used to actually buy the gift in question? Yes. But she didn't voice it.
Ranger had acquired some models of vintage aircraft, Penny had acquired some texts on naval history, and Independence had even sent a few (horribly kitsch) American flag inspired clothes. And then there were her gifts from her students…
Most were fairly understated, simple cards or gifts of food, but there was a particularly notable one covered in cloth. Karlsruhe ooh'd and aah'd over it appropriately, and even Langley was a little intrigued by the mystery of it. With a flourish, the sheet was swept to the side to reveal a cage. A cage that held a bird.
A pigeon, to be specific.
"Very funny." Langley groaned.