Abyssinia 6 - Production and Stockpile
darthcourt10
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K9Thefirst1
And here we have another installment of Gateway Princess and how she is prepping to Win the Atlantic, at the expense of her protégé Reivana... Despite Reivana originally supposed to be the star... I fear I may be better at worldbuilding that plot. T_T Also, hold onto you butts - Harry warns me there may be torches and pitchforks
Production and Stockpile
After flooding their hulls, Ocean Liner Demon and Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess descended from the surface and made for the Palace. The pair was silent, ignoring the other members of the fleet as they made for the lower levels and into the dungeons, carved into the very seamount. Through the twisting corridors, one could hear the sounds of explosions, and the multitude of "nazgs" of thousands of Imps calling out, barking orders, or giving reports. Through open doorways, Ocean Liner Demon idly looked to see legions of Imps at mock Anti-Air batteries, "shooting" at mock fighter planes in rapid pace, and each team being scrutinized for even the minutest flaw or short coming. In another chamber, similar scenes played out, the other differences being the equipment the Imps were training on. For some it was in mock-ups of cockpits of fighters or bombers. In others they were training on naval artillery batteries of one caliber or another. In others still, Imps were training on targeting computers, or powder magazine hoists, or machinery spaces of different ship classes or types, or in damage control simulators. Thousands of Imps, from Hundreds of Abyssals, all training round the clock.
In the lower levels, they walked through chambers lined with shelves and racks. All of which were filled to the limit with cruisers, submarines, destroyers, even mobile anchorages, battleships and battle cruisers. All clamped in place. All dead to the world. Their boilers extinguished. Although, one destroyer division was in the process of being fueled and activated by their crews, with another division – already drained of fuel and their crews assigned to training rosters – floated in place, dead in the water and waiting to be towed into place.
"Demon," Gateway Princess said as they walked, "I will not insult you by telling you what is going on here, as if you did not already know. So I will expect you to tell me. How have we managed to hide our true numbers from the regional Petty Princesses?"
"Easy. No more than one out of every ten of each ship type are active at once. The rest are deactivated and put into mothballs."
Her princess nodded.
"Very good. But, how is it that we can do such a thing and still expect to have a serviceable fleet? After all, if nine-tenths of the fleet are in comas for months on end, how is it that they can be expected to gain experience?"
"They can't. But their crews can spend the intermediate time either training round the clock or serving on their sister ships. It's not a perfect replacement for actual field experience, it's quite slow in comparison in fact. But it's still a faster way to generate elite and Veteran vessels than letting the crews remain idle."
The princess nodded again. By then the pair had stopped at the bottom of the last of the stairs, arriving at the door to the lowest chamber of the palace. And the location of the second missing piece of Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess' throne – the Shipyard and Docks.
"And now for something I haven't hammered into your head for the past decade: Why do I continue to build older designs? Why have I not done as the other barbarians have and develop and construct newer and more advanced designs of craft? And why do I continue to expend my fleet in the first place when I hardly use the ones that I already have?"
The Demon was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
"I imagine that Reivana was on it. Continuous expansion over these past few years means that we likely have the single largest fleet in the Abyss. Large enough that we can fight on multiple fronts and still have reserves to replace loses, and then garrison and patrol our expanding territories."
The Demon scratch the back of her head, placing her hands on her hips and tapping a foot in further thought. All the while the Princess looked on placidly, patiently.
"And as for keeping older designs and not designing new ones, I would imagine that the workers would need to get used to building a radical new design every time one is introduced. Which would add on time in construction due to lost efficiency. And the modern design might not even be much of an improvement anyway. And, I imagine, quantity has a quality of its own. Tie the numbers into the highly well-trained crews, and the weaknesses of both plans cancel each other out."
Gateway Princess smiled as she patted her taller Demon on the shoulder in pride.
"Very good. However, there is one more reason you forget."
"And that would be Princness?" Demon asked, even as the Princess shoved open the great door leading to the chamber.
"Simple. Compared to designing a new anti-air mount – which we have done numerous times recall – designing a new cruiser is time, effort and resources that can be used on… Other things."
The chamber beyond better resembled a great pit, with the door the Sovereign and her second entered in being the terminus of a long ramp that circled around the circumference. Towering up from the floor was the second part of Gateway's throne. Like the fuel stores and storage portion on Antillia, this one was a grand spire as tall as a small office building in height, easily towering some thirty feet. Unlike the mass of pipes and tanks of it's sibling, this one was a Geigerian mash of various articles of maritime construction: Cranes, slipways, gantries, dry docks, foundries and machine shops. A small army of Imps swarmed the colossus like large ants on a tree.
And on each of the slipways, shrouds hid the iconic eggs that all Lesser Abyssals came from. Just as the pair rounded one side of the throne fragment, said shroud was pulled away as the newly finished egg rolled down the slip into the dry dock at the end, where it then hatched into a Ta-Class battleship. Said Ta-Class was then swarmed by Imps and cranes as they began installing her guns, engines and boilers, all while her crew were spawned in wisps of smoke before boarding her. In a few minutes the fitting out was complete, and the new battleship – with the nervous motions of a newborn lamb – made for the upper portion of the chamber and the training facilities beyond. Though curiously, Ocean Liner noticed that the crews did not immediately begin on prepping the slip for the construction of another Abyssal…
"No matter how often I see this," Ocean Liner Demon whispered, "the scale blows me away."
"Yes, the power of Installation Royalty, is a sight to behold…" the sovereign agreed, before gesturing her on to the lowest and widest level of the tower, "but come, Demon. I want you to be present for this."
"For what?"
"For the culmination of nine years of drafts, testing, and construction. Of every resource that would normally go into designing the next generation of warships being channeled into what will guarantee our continued survival. Foreman! Is the slip ready!"
The burly Imp, dressed in coveralls and hard hat comical in its small size, answered in the affirmative as he presented the Princess with a bottle of champagne, which she took while the Imps pulled away the shroud, revealing a gargantuan egg the size of a Clydesdale draft horse. The princess stood to the side of the egg and cleared her throat.
"We, the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess, of the House of the Abyss, Heir to the Atlantic Throne, doth dub this good ship, Woken, the first of the Wok-Class freight transport!"
The Princess then smacked the bottle onto the egg, smashing it and sending it down the slip into the dry-dock at the end with a thunderous smash. The shell cracked, and the pieces flew way as the beast within stretched her limbs.
The beast thus revealed was instantly recognizable as taking inspiration from the prehistoric Plesiosaur, in particular the species Simolestes Vorax, though with the addition of a third pair of flippers in the middle body, and the tail replaced by seven squid tentacles. Demon walked around the specimen as the Imps and machines finished the fitting out. She noticed that the body was squashed to make the creature's back flatter and broader than an animal would be. Her back was covered in large metal hatch covers, and by the time she noticed that the workers had already installed six cargo cranes, and Demon noted mounting points for four more. The new Merchant Marine Abyssal turned her head to face Demon, at which time she noticed that the "animal's" chin was fitted with a torpedo launcher, and the top of the head, which was dominated by a miniature ship's bridge above a giant purple cybernetic eye, had the latest model of quad-barreled Anti-Air mount. Looking further down the new Abyssal's back, Ocean Liner Demon noted the workers installing nearly a dozen similar mounts along the deck and fantail, with all available spaces in-between being clogged with double or single-barreled mounts.
This last part was not unusual for the Abyssals of the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess. Without carriers to provide air cover, every single craft of the fleet routinely had AA mounts crammed onto every available surface, and then had their anti-air mounts replaced with newer and better mounts on a semi-regular basis. Demon suspected that any enemy planes that attacked one of her Princess' task forces or convoys would quickly find that there was another way to ensure Air Superiority.
Gateway Princess smiled at the latest edition of her fleet, and once the workers were finished they pulled away, ready for the Royal Inspection. The Princess scratched it under the chin as if she were some sort of large cat, then ran her hands down its sides as she took in every detail.
"Yes," she muttered, just loud enough to be heard, "yes, just how We envisioned you. Capacity of 10,000 tons, based on the Liberty ships… Plenty of air defense… Ability to fight off a submarine… Easily modified for oil transport, bulk cargo… Yes… Yes. You will do nicely."
Without further delay, she gestured to Woken for her to make for the upper levels.
"Really? All our resources, you poured into making a transport? Not some sort of Super-Destroyer, or Advanced Submarine? We have plenty of Wa-Class for our uses, you've certainly never bothered activating any slips for their construction."
The Princess tittered in amusement at her Second's comments.
"Oh Demon! How narrow-sighted of you! Don't you realize that the very materials that go into the Wa-Class make them a political liability for any fleet wanting to make peace. So unlike my Sisters and the barbarians, I've never sullied my hands with building them."
"But that never stopped you from using them."
She snorted dismissively and shrugged.
"I still needed reliable transports, they were freely offered, and it would be a bigger waste not to use them before I had a replacement that was as good or better. Ah! That reminds me."
She then stepped back and address the rest of the present Imps.
"All ships presently under construction are to be finished as ordered! All slips are now to be converted for the construction of Wok-Class transports. Save for one slip each for the construction of additional Destroyers, Cruisers, Submarines, Anchorages and Capital ships!
"Furthermore, all Wa-Class transports are to be scrapped with each new Wok-Class until all are dismantled! The human cadavers are to be stored with the rest of the human bodies recovered from the wrecks we have recycled, with all the care and respect similarly given. That is all!"
The Princess jerked her head, indicating that Demon follow her, likely back to the Throne room. Once they were back in the less crowded corridors, Demon felt that the pair could take once more.
"What do you hope to accomplish, giving the Humans the bodies from the Wa-Class? Wouldn't it be better to simply leave them for the sharks to dispose of and forget they existed?"
"I hope to accomplish the same thing I hope for in returning the bodies of the sailors and personal affects we've recovered from all the wrecks from Blood Week onwards we have been dismantling in the vicinity Demon – Good will, through showing that we have respected their dead, and have treated them honorably, and return them to their nations and families in the hopes of providing closure."
"But, the Wa-Class cadavers have no identifying features."
"They have DNA. They would need to be closed casket funerals of course, but at least the families will have a grave to visit. And they will have us to thank for giving them that much. Which is why Woken's first mission will be to the UK. Carrying samples of our oil production, a sampling of the resources we have to offer the surface, and the bell, nameplate, location, and the honored dead recovered from Her Majesty's Ship Ocean, who valiantly went down with all hands fending off the forces of Central Atlantic Princess - may she rot in Hell - from the RMS Queen Mary 2 during Blood Week."
"And you really think they won't just sharpen their knives for tampering with their graves?"
"Oh some would no doubt give a hue and cry. But at least we haven't behaved like those South Pacific monsters and scattered the bones like trash while we blew up their ship."
"Hmmm..." Demon considered that, but one grain of a thought still bothered her, "Shouldn't we at least be seen to try and reverse the process that made the bodies into the Wa-Class?"
Again, the Princess waved a hand dismissively.
"I am to craft an image of a Fair and Just Sovereign my Demon, not a miracle worker. I'll forge some documentation about failed experiments if pressed and call it a day. If someone were to come up with something I can always ask to use it for the remaining transports, but I cannot waste time on effort for the dead of peasants when there are affairs of War and State to be worked. All of this is a gamble Demon. But gamble we must… Of course, that doesn't mean we cannot stack the deck in our favor. Which is why it is important that you understand my plans and strategies for-."
"PRINCESS!"
The conversation was interrupted by a Chi-Class cruiser barreling down the corridor towards them. Without thinking Demon stepped in front of her Princess, even as the cruiser came to a stop and slumped, panting in exhaustion. When she recovered, the cruiser pointed vaguely in the direction of the Throne Room.
"P-Princess! It's Aircraft Carrier Princess Goda! She's demanding all of our resources!"
Their was a palpable silence in the corridor. Until the Princess gave her opinion on the latest development.
"Fuck. A. Duck."
And here we have another installment of Gateway Princess and how she is prepping to Win the Atlantic, at the expense of her protégé Reivana... Despite Reivana originally supposed to be the star... I fear I may be better at worldbuilding that plot. T_T Also, hold onto you butts - Harry warns me there may be torches and pitchforks
Production and Stockpile
After flooding their hulls, Ocean Liner Demon and Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess descended from the surface and made for the Palace. The pair was silent, ignoring the other members of the fleet as they made for the lower levels and into the dungeons, carved into the very seamount. Through the twisting corridors, one could hear the sounds of explosions, and the multitude of "nazgs" of thousands of Imps calling out, barking orders, or giving reports. Through open doorways, Ocean Liner Demon idly looked to see legions of Imps at mock Anti-Air batteries, "shooting" at mock fighter planes in rapid pace, and each team being scrutinized for even the minutest flaw or short coming. In another chamber, similar scenes played out, the other differences being the equipment the Imps were training on. For some it was in mock-ups of cockpits of fighters or bombers. In others they were training on naval artillery batteries of one caliber or another. In others still, Imps were training on targeting computers, or powder magazine hoists, or machinery spaces of different ship classes or types, or in damage control simulators. Thousands of Imps, from Hundreds of Abyssals, all training round the clock.
In the lower levels, they walked through chambers lined with shelves and racks. All of which were filled to the limit with cruisers, submarines, destroyers, even mobile anchorages, battleships and battle cruisers. All clamped in place. All dead to the world. Their boilers extinguished. Although, one destroyer division was in the process of being fueled and activated by their crews, with another division – already drained of fuel and their crews assigned to training rosters – floated in place, dead in the water and waiting to be towed into place.
"Demon," Gateway Princess said as they walked, "I will not insult you by telling you what is going on here, as if you did not already know. So I will expect you to tell me. How have we managed to hide our true numbers from the regional Petty Princesses?"
"Easy. No more than one out of every ten of each ship type are active at once. The rest are deactivated and put into mothballs."
Her princess nodded.
"Very good. But, how is it that we can do such a thing and still expect to have a serviceable fleet? After all, if nine-tenths of the fleet are in comas for months on end, how is it that they can be expected to gain experience?"
"They can't. But their crews can spend the intermediate time either training round the clock or serving on their sister ships. It's not a perfect replacement for actual field experience, it's quite slow in comparison in fact. But it's still a faster way to generate elite and Veteran vessels than letting the crews remain idle."
The princess nodded again. By then the pair had stopped at the bottom of the last of the stairs, arriving at the door to the lowest chamber of the palace. And the location of the second missing piece of Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess' throne – the Shipyard and Docks.
"And now for something I haven't hammered into your head for the past decade: Why do I continue to build older designs? Why have I not done as the other barbarians have and develop and construct newer and more advanced designs of craft? And why do I continue to expend my fleet in the first place when I hardly use the ones that I already have?"
The Demon was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
"I imagine that Reivana was on it. Continuous expansion over these past few years means that we likely have the single largest fleet in the Abyss. Large enough that we can fight on multiple fronts and still have reserves to replace loses, and then garrison and patrol our expanding territories."
The Demon scratch the back of her head, placing her hands on her hips and tapping a foot in further thought. All the while the Princess looked on placidly, patiently.
"And as for keeping older designs and not designing new ones, I would imagine that the workers would need to get used to building a radical new design every time one is introduced. Which would add on time in construction due to lost efficiency. And the modern design might not even be much of an improvement anyway. And, I imagine, quantity has a quality of its own. Tie the numbers into the highly well-trained crews, and the weaknesses of both plans cancel each other out."
Gateway Princess smiled as she patted her taller Demon on the shoulder in pride.
"Very good. However, there is one more reason you forget."
"And that would be Princness?" Demon asked, even as the Princess shoved open the great door leading to the chamber.
"Simple. Compared to designing a new anti-air mount – which we have done numerous times recall – designing a new cruiser is time, effort and resources that can be used on… Other things."
The chamber beyond better resembled a great pit, with the door the Sovereign and her second entered in being the terminus of a long ramp that circled around the circumference. Towering up from the floor was the second part of Gateway's throne. Like the fuel stores and storage portion on Antillia, this one was a grand spire as tall as a small office building in height, easily towering some thirty feet. Unlike the mass of pipes and tanks of it's sibling, this one was a Geigerian mash of various articles of maritime construction: Cranes, slipways, gantries, dry docks, foundries and machine shops. A small army of Imps swarmed the colossus like large ants on a tree.
And on each of the slipways, shrouds hid the iconic eggs that all Lesser Abyssals came from. Just as the pair rounded one side of the throne fragment, said shroud was pulled away as the newly finished egg rolled down the slip into the dry dock at the end, where it then hatched into a Ta-Class battleship. Said Ta-Class was then swarmed by Imps and cranes as they began installing her guns, engines and boilers, all while her crew were spawned in wisps of smoke before boarding her. In a few minutes the fitting out was complete, and the new battleship – with the nervous motions of a newborn lamb – made for the upper portion of the chamber and the training facilities beyond. Though curiously, Ocean Liner noticed that the crews did not immediately begin on prepping the slip for the construction of another Abyssal…
"No matter how often I see this," Ocean Liner Demon whispered, "the scale blows me away."
"Yes, the power of Installation Royalty, is a sight to behold…" the sovereign agreed, before gesturing her on to the lowest and widest level of the tower, "but come, Demon. I want you to be present for this."
"For what?"
"For the culmination of nine years of drafts, testing, and construction. Of every resource that would normally go into designing the next generation of warships being channeled into what will guarantee our continued survival. Foreman! Is the slip ready!"
The burly Imp, dressed in coveralls and hard hat comical in its small size, answered in the affirmative as he presented the Princess with a bottle of champagne, which she took while the Imps pulled away the shroud, revealing a gargantuan egg the size of a Clydesdale draft horse. The princess stood to the side of the egg and cleared her throat.
"We, the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess, of the House of the Abyss, Heir to the Atlantic Throne, doth dub this good ship, Woken, the first of the Wok-Class freight transport!"
The Princess then smacked the bottle onto the egg, smashing it and sending it down the slip into the dry-dock at the end with a thunderous smash. The shell cracked, and the pieces flew way as the beast within stretched her limbs.
The beast thus revealed was instantly recognizable as taking inspiration from the prehistoric Plesiosaur, in particular the species Simolestes Vorax, though with the addition of a third pair of flippers in the middle body, and the tail replaced by seven squid tentacles. Demon walked around the specimen as the Imps and machines finished the fitting out. She noticed that the body was squashed to make the creature's back flatter and broader than an animal would be. Her back was covered in large metal hatch covers, and by the time she noticed that the workers had already installed six cargo cranes, and Demon noted mounting points for four more. The new Merchant Marine Abyssal turned her head to face Demon, at which time she noticed that the "animal's" chin was fitted with a torpedo launcher, and the top of the head, which was dominated by a miniature ship's bridge above a giant purple cybernetic eye, had the latest model of quad-barreled Anti-Air mount. Looking further down the new Abyssal's back, Ocean Liner Demon noted the workers installing nearly a dozen similar mounts along the deck and fantail, with all available spaces in-between being clogged with double or single-barreled mounts.
This last part was not unusual for the Abyssals of the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess. Without carriers to provide air cover, every single craft of the fleet routinely had AA mounts crammed onto every available surface, and then had their anti-air mounts replaced with newer and better mounts on a semi-regular basis. Demon suspected that any enemy planes that attacked one of her Princess' task forces or convoys would quickly find that there was another way to ensure Air Superiority.
Gateway Princess smiled at the latest edition of her fleet, and once the workers were finished they pulled away, ready for the Royal Inspection. The Princess scratched it under the chin as if she were some sort of large cat, then ran her hands down its sides as she took in every detail.
"Yes," she muttered, just loud enough to be heard, "yes, just how We envisioned you. Capacity of 10,000 tons, based on the Liberty ships… Plenty of air defense… Ability to fight off a submarine… Easily modified for oil transport, bulk cargo… Yes… Yes. You will do nicely."
Without further delay, she gestured to Woken for her to make for the upper levels.
"Really? All our resources, you poured into making a transport? Not some sort of Super-Destroyer, or Advanced Submarine? We have plenty of Wa-Class for our uses, you've certainly never bothered activating any slips for their construction."
The Princess tittered in amusement at her Second's comments.
"Oh Demon! How narrow-sighted of you! Don't you realize that the very materials that go into the Wa-Class make them a political liability for any fleet wanting to make peace. So unlike my Sisters and the barbarians, I've never sullied my hands with building them."
"But that never stopped you from using them."
She snorted dismissively and shrugged.
"I still needed reliable transports, they were freely offered, and it would be a bigger waste not to use them before I had a replacement that was as good or better. Ah! That reminds me."
She then stepped back and address the rest of the present Imps.
"All ships presently under construction are to be finished as ordered! All slips are now to be converted for the construction of Wok-Class transports. Save for one slip each for the construction of additional Destroyers, Cruisers, Submarines, Anchorages and Capital ships!
"Furthermore, all Wa-Class transports are to be scrapped with each new Wok-Class until all are dismantled! The human cadavers are to be stored with the rest of the human bodies recovered from the wrecks we have recycled, with all the care and respect similarly given. That is all!"
The Princess jerked her head, indicating that Demon follow her, likely back to the Throne room. Once they were back in the less crowded corridors, Demon felt that the pair could take once more.
"What do you hope to accomplish, giving the Humans the bodies from the Wa-Class? Wouldn't it be better to simply leave them for the sharks to dispose of and forget they existed?"
"I hope to accomplish the same thing I hope for in returning the bodies of the sailors and personal affects we've recovered from all the wrecks from Blood Week onwards we have been dismantling in the vicinity Demon – Good will, through showing that we have respected their dead, and have treated them honorably, and return them to their nations and families in the hopes of providing closure."
"But, the Wa-Class cadavers have no identifying features."
"They have DNA. They would need to be closed casket funerals of course, but at least the families will have a grave to visit. And they will have us to thank for giving them that much. Which is why Woken's first mission will be to the UK. Carrying samples of our oil production, a sampling of the resources we have to offer the surface, and the bell, nameplate, location, and the honored dead recovered from Her Majesty's Ship Ocean, who valiantly went down with all hands fending off the forces of Central Atlantic Princess - may she rot in Hell - from the RMS Queen Mary 2 during Blood Week."
"And you really think they won't just sharpen their knives for tampering with their graves?"
"Oh some would no doubt give a hue and cry. But at least we haven't behaved like those South Pacific monsters and scattered the bones like trash while we blew up their ship."
"Hmmm..." Demon considered that, but one grain of a thought still bothered her, "Shouldn't we at least be seen to try and reverse the process that made the bodies into the Wa-Class?"
Again, the Princess waved a hand dismissively.
"I am to craft an image of a Fair and Just Sovereign my Demon, not a miracle worker. I'll forge some documentation about failed experiments if pressed and call it a day. If someone were to come up with something I can always ask to use it for the remaining transports, but I cannot waste time on effort for the dead of peasants when there are affairs of War and State to be worked. All of this is a gamble Demon. But gamble we must… Of course, that doesn't mean we cannot stack the deck in our favor. Which is why it is important that you understand my plans and strategies for-."
"PRINCESS!"
The conversation was interrupted by a Chi-Class cruiser barreling down the corridor towards them. Without thinking Demon stepped in front of her Princess, even as the cruiser came to a stop and slumped, panting in exhaustion. When she recovered, the cruiser pointed vaguely in the direction of the Throne Room.
"P-Princess! It's Aircraft Carrier Princess Goda! She's demanding all of our resources!"
Their was a palpable silence in the corridor. Until the Princess gave her opinion on the latest development.
"Fuck. A. Duck."
