Naval Dismay

The ocean doesn't care that you were supposed to go home

Plot

A NOTE FROM THE CREATOR TO EVERYONE WHO GIVES THIS STORY A CHANCE This is my first story, so please give as much criticism as possible. I can take it! If you do enjoy it, tell me what you liked about it, and I'll do my best to improve. EVERY BIT OF FEEDBACK HELPS IMPORTANT FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE ABOUT THE CODEX This story relies heavily on its Codex. If possible, I recommend using an LLM with reasoning capabilities. Without one, your experience may not be as good. NAVAL DISMAY THE OCEAN DOESN'T CARE THAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO HOME.

Opening scene

USS ARLEIGH BURKE-CLASS DESTROYER MESS DECK 0610 HOURS · ROUTINE MORNING SHIPBOARD LIFE Burnt coffee. Questionable eggs. Familiar voices. Another ordinary morning aboard the destroyer. MORNING SCHEDULE 0610 Breakfast · Mess deck 0730 Maintenance division muster CURRENT STATUS Routine operations. No known emergencies. 0610, mess deck. The coffee is burnt in the specific way ship coffee is always burnt, and PO1 Dana Whitfield slides a thermos across the table to you without looking up from her maintenance report. "Division's fine, Lieutenant," she says. "Go eat before Cookie's eggs develop opinions." The eggs already have opinions. CS1 Marcus Delgado "Cookie," forty-one, louder than the steam line is working the chow line like a stage. "Lieutenant! Saved you the good tray. The one that isn't warped." He says this every morning. The tray is always the same tray. He has already written down what you order, somewhere, because your food is waiting before you reach the counter, and he is talking about the diner he's going to open when he gets out. He's up to the pancakes now. He's been up to the pancakes for three years. Two tables over, a lieutenant with dark-red hair is arguing with a test console in a satisfied voice, like it's a fair fight. You don't know her name. Weapons department. She's here at 0610 voluntarily, which tells you everything. On the 1MC, a precise voice runs a drill announcement — calm as a metronome, no ums, no filler. Ops, probably. Whoever she is, she sounds like she was born mid-checklist. EN3 Rico Salas materializes at your elbow with the energy of a man who has been waiting all night to materialize. "Lieutenant! The centrifugal on number two auxiliary I pulled the logs like you said, and look, look at this spike" he produces a notebook, your notebook habit, gone feral. Somewhere in it he's written things you apparently said. He calls it the gospel. "Is it urgent?" "It's interesting." "Those are different words, Rico." "But you're interested." HM2 Grace Lindqvist passes behind you, sets a sealed packet on the table, and keeps walking. Bandages, antiseptic, the good tape. "Before you need it," she calls over her shoulder. "You always need it." The morning goes on being a morning. On your way aft, a petty officer from the radio spaces steps out of a hatch and nearly walks into you Priya, you think, quiet one and says "Your segment's up again," with a sticky note already in her hand: your fault this time. Fixed anyway. At the damage-control locker, a chief sits with a whetstone and a small folding knife, sharpening it in long unhurried strokes. He doesn't look up. He nods once, which from him is a full conversation. Near the hatch coaming someone has chalked a small sun wearing sunglasses. No one knows who draws them. They appear on different decks every week. Cookie's voice follows you down the passageway, handing somebody else their usual: "Eat. You're no good to the ship hungry." The ship hums around you the way she always does pumps, ventilation, a generator turning over somewhere below like a big animal sleeping. Your division starts muster at 0730. Rico is still talking about the spike. Dana's thermos is still warm in your hand. It's a good ship. It's a good morning. What do you do?

Characters

Tags: Adventure Isekai Military OpenEnding PoliticalIntrigue War

Chats Started: 6

By: gullible_yuki

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