3rd-Person Point of View
Date: Sunday, July 4th, 2021
Time: 7:42 PM
Location: USS Nimitz Multinational Task Force, Gulf of Aden / Heavily Fortified Pirate Stronghold, Somalia
Darkness had settled over the Gulf of Aden by the time the multinational rescue force moved from preparation into full battle readiness, and USS Nimitz stood at the center of it all without moving a single foot through the water. Her one recovered Westinghouse A4W reactor remained at full available output, her Aegis combat system and radar networks watched the surrounding air and sea, her communications linked American, NATO, Azur Lane, and partner forces together, and her enormous dark-blue flight deck glowed beneath carefully controlled lighting as aircraft crews worked around armed machines. The second reactor remained silent, the four steam turbines and four shafts remained unavailable for propulsion, and Mary understood that limitation better with every passing hour because she no longer thought of those systems as belonging to another vessel. They were parts of her, waiting for the human-shaped Kansen body inside Somalia to return before her full vessel form could become whole again. Even motionless, however, Mary Elizabeth Nimitz had become the stationary heart of an armada.
From her physical position inside the pirate stronghold, Mary could feel that armada gathering around her ship body across hundreds of miles of darkness. American escorts held protective positions around USS Nimitz, while British, French, German, Italian, Canadian, Dutch, and other allied ships occupied assigned sectors throughout the wider formation, and partner forces from Japan and Russia coordinated through the growing rescue structure without being folded carelessly into the NATO command designation. Aircraft crossed above the task force, helicopters moved between decks, and command circuits carried an almost continuous flow of voices as nations that would normally require days of coordination compressed planning into hours. Mary could not consciously follow every transmission without overwhelming herself, but when she concentrated on her own communication systems she understood their shape almost instinctively. Thousands of people were preparing to enter danger because dozens of hostages…and Mary herself…were trapped inside the same fortified compound.
The special operations element was unlike anything assembled for an ordinary anti-piracy mission, because the governments involved had discovered that almost the entire missing humanitarian mission was concentrated at the main stronghold. Naval Special Warfare Development Group…DEVGRU, known to much of the public as SEAL Team Six…stood beside personnel from the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta…Delta Froce, while the 24th Special Tactics Squadron coordinated specialists supporting the larger joint force. Green Berets, elements of the 75th Ranger Regiment, and crews from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment prepared alongside Air Force Pararescue personnel and Combat Control Teams, while Marine Raiders from MARSOC joined the American contribution. Across the multinational force, Britain's 22 Special Air Service, Germany's Kommando Spezialkräfte, France's 1er RPIMa and 13e Régiment de Dragons Parachutistes, Russian Spetsnaz GRU personnel, and Japan's Special Forces Group added their own capabilities to the coalition.
Nobody aboard USS Nimitz treated the collection of elite units as an excuse for overconfidence. The hostages were still alive precisely because the pirates had not yet realized the scale of the force organizing against them, and every commander understood that secrecy mattered more than bravado until those prisoners were safely clear. Plans remained compartmentalized, assault details stayed within operational channels, and Mary was never given unnecessary information that might become dangerous if she were overheard or captured more closely. What Mary could provide was equally valuable without requiring her to direct the raid herself: where the hostages were concentrated, what condition they were in, what portions of the compound they had observed, when guard activity changed, where civilians appeared to be moved, and what sounds suggested vehicles or larger gatherings outside. Lieutenant Commander Mercer and the other military hostages quietly checked every detail before Mary transmitted it through her HOOK3.
Mary sat beside Mercer while an allied medical worker finished checking the bandage of another hostage, and she carefully held the HOOK3 near her chest as she reported another observation. "Nightwitch One-One to Nimitz, I still have all humanitarian and military hostages in the primary holding room with me, and nobody has been removed since the last report," she said softly, keeping her voice low enough that it would not travel beyond the concrete room. "We have several injured who can move with assistance, a smaller number who will need immediate medical attention once we're secure, and morale is holding." Enterprise answered from USS Nimitz through the protected circuit, her voice controlled but unable to hide the emotion beneath it. "Copy, Mom, and medical reception teams are ready for everyone you bring out."
Mary smiled despite herself. "Sweetheart, I believe the point is that you're bringing us out." Enterprise immediately replied, "I'm still counting you as part of the rescue team because I know you." Mercer looked toward Mary with amusement while Yorktown joined the circuit and said, "She's right, Mom, and before you argue, remember that you materialized with a suppressed pistol and immediately started collecting intelligence from the other prisoners." Mary shook her head and whispered, "I have apparently raised entirely too many lawyers." Hornet's voice came through next, bright with nervous energy as she replied, "No, you raised daughters who know exactly how you operate."
One of the civilian hostages sitting nearby had been watching Mary for several minutes with an increasingly puzzled expression, and eventually she raised her hand as though requesting permission to interrupt a classroom. Mary noticed immediately and lowered the radio. "What's wrong?" The woman hesitated before looking Mary up and down from boots to head. "This is going to sound incredibly unimportant right now, but didn't the first reports over the radio say you were seven feet tall?" Mary blinked, looked down at herself, then slowly stood against the concrete wall while Mercer immediately started smiling.
The hostage squinted at her. "You're not seven feet."
Mary stared at her. Mercer finally laughed. "I wasn't going to say anything."
Mary turned toward him with genuine betrayal. "You knew?" Mercer raised both hands. "Admiral, you've been having an unusually complicated day." The hostage laughed and shook her head before answering, "You're about six-five, maybe exactly six-five if I had to guess." Mary looked down at her own body again as though offended that it had apparently failed to provide accurate specifications. "I died, came back as a nuclear aircraft carrier, discovered I have two bodies, and somehow the first thing everyone got wrong was my height?"
Mercer's smile widened. "Apparently."
Mary lifted the HOOK3. "Enterprise."
Her daughter answered instantly. "I'm here."
Mary's voice became suspiciously calm. "Who told the fleet I was seven feet tall?" Silence followed from USS Nimitz before Hornet could be heard laughing somewhere away from the microphone. Enterprise finally answered, "There may have been some confusion during the first reports." Mary narrowed her eyes even though Enterprise could not see her physical face at that moment. "I am six feet five inches tall."
New Jersey's voice broke into the channel. "So you're still really tall."
Mary replied, "Honey, that is not the point."
Hornet was openly laughing now. "Mom, we thought you came back enormous!" Mary stared toward the concrete ceiling. "Six-five is already enormous compared to half my daughters!" Enterprise finally gave up and laughed with everyone else before saying, "Fine, official correction: Mary Elizabeth Nimitz, six feet five inches tall." Mary sat down again and muttered, "Thank you, history has been saved."
The laughter inside the hostage room lasted only until something warm and strange began moving beneath Mary's skin. Mary stopped. Cyan light traced briefly beneath the white sleeve of her Admiral Full Dress White Uniform.
Mercer immediately noticed. "Admiral?" Mary raised one hand and stared at the immaculate fabric that had not remained immaculate at all after hours sitting in a dusty concrete prison. The white coat bore streaks of grime at the elbows and along one side, her trousers had gathered dust around the knees, and even the polished shoes that had manifested with her were now marked by the filthy floor. "I think something is happening," Mary whispered.
The Wisdom Cube answered. Cyan light moved over her body from boots to shoulders.
The transformation did not resemble someone changing clothing manually; one uniform dissolved into geometric particles while another assembled itself over Mary's body in seconds. Her Admiral Full Dress White Uniform vanished beneath the glow, replaced first by a white military undershirt and then the camouflage pattern of a U.S. Navy NWU Type III combat uniform. The trousers settled correctly over coyote-brown anti-microbial boot socks and 5.11 Fast-Tac eight-inch boots, while a coyote-colored slimline belt appeared around her waist. An Improved Outer Tactical Vest formed across her torso, followed by magazine, utility, medical, grenade, communications, and equipment pouches positioned across the armor.
Mary stared down. "Oh."
An Advanced Combat Helmet formed next, equipped with GPNVG-18 panoramic night-vision goggles, a Comtac II communications headset, helmet-mounted camera, light, and supporting equipment. The system settled onto her head with the familiarity of gear she somehow already knew how to adjust, while her existing Mk 23 remained physically in her hand rather than being replaced by the weapons listed among the equipment her new Kansen knowledge told her she could eventually manifest. A reinforced communications pouch held the combat radio associated with the uniform, while another secured survival-radio position formed specifically for the HOOK3 Mary had awakened holding. Mary slid the HOOK3 into it and felt the retention system lock safely around the device without interfering with immediate access.
Mercer looked her over. "That seems more appropriate for where we are."
Mary tugged lightly at the front of the IOTV. "It certainly beats crawling around a pirate stronghold dressed for a naval ceremony."
One of the hostages smiled. "You looked impressive."
Mary raised an eyebrow. "I looked like somebody dropped an admiral into a basement."
The woman shrugged. "You technically were."
Mary laughed quietly.
Hundreds of miles away aboard USS Nimitz, Belfast had just stepped from one command passageway into a briefing space when cyan light appeared directly in front of her. The Royal Maid stopped so abruptly that Mary's sister nearly collided with her from behind. Enterprise turned at the same moment, followed by Yorktown, Hornet, New Jersey, Mary's brother, and two of the cousins. Something white slowly formed inside the glow before dropping gently into Belfast's arms.
Belfast caught it instinctively. Then she recognized the fabric. Mary's Admiral Full Dress White Uniform. The clothes were exactly as they had been upon Mary's rebirth only hours earlier, except they were covered in the dust and dirt of the Somali holding room. Fine brown grit marked the trousers, darker streaks crossed one sleeve and part of the coat, and the black United States Navy nametag still displayed one unmistakable word: NIMITZ.
Belfast's face crumpled. "Mary."
Mary heard her through the microphones.
Her attention shifted instantly through USS Nimitz's cameras until she found Belfast holding the discarded uniform against her chest. "Bells?" she asked through the overhead speaker, startled by seeing her clothes hundreds of miles away. Belfast looked toward the camera with tears already gathering. "Your uniform just appeared in my arms." Mary looked down at the combat uniform covering her physical body in Somalia, then back through the camera at the dirty dress whites aboard her ship. "Apparently my wardrobe has decided you are responsible for it."
Belfast gave a tearful laugh. "I suppose some responsibilities survive even death."
Mary softened. "Don't clean it yet."
Belfast looked down. "The dirt?"
Mary nodded instinctively in Somalia even though Belfast only saw the slight movement of the camera. "I want to remember where I woke up and what happened there." Belfast carefully folded the coat over one arm. "Then I will preserve it exactly as it arrived until you decide otherwise." Mary smiled. "Thank you, Bells."
New Jersey looked toward the camera. "So if you change uniforms, the old one comes back here?"
Mary answered, "Apparently."
Hornet grinned. "That's convenient."
Mary sighed. "You're all learning far too much about my new abilities before I understand them myself."
Enterprise smiled upward. "We're helping."
"You call this helping?"
"Yes."
Mary laughed. "Of course you do."
While Mary adjusted to her combat uniform, the fleet around USS Nimitz entered its own transformation. Kansen daughters who had arrived aboard allied ships began moving toward open water as human commanders finalized the larger rescue posture, and Mary watched through external cameras as one familiar woman after another approached the edges of their decks. Enterprise stood beside Yorktown and Hornet on USS Nimitz's flight deck, while Queen Elizabeth and Prince of Wales prepared aboard the British contingent, Richelieu and Jean Bart aboard the French force, Bismarck and Tirpitz among the German ships, and Vittorio Veneto and Littorio with the Italian group. Other daughters from Eagle Union, Royal Navy, Sakura Empire, Iron Blood, Northern Parliament, Iris Libre, Vichya Dominion, and Sardegna Empire answered the same call across the broader formation.
Mary felt something almost maternal rise inside her. "My girls."
Enterprise looked toward the nearest camera. "We heard that."
Mary answered through the flight-deck speaker. "I meant for you to."
One by one, the Kansen summoned their ship forms. The ocean around USS Nimitz changed.
Wisdom Cube light spread across the dark water in enormous flashes as vessels emerged from impossible energy, steel hulls taking shape where moments earlier only waves had existed. Enterprise's carrier form appeared with the dignity of a ship whose name had survived generations, while Yorktown and Hornet brought their own carriers into existence nearby. Battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and carriers from other factions manifested across the allied formation until modern NATO vessels found themselves sailing beside warships representing histories that had once belonged to rival nations.
The sight stopped conversations aboard several bridges.
The President stepped onto an observation area aboard USS Nimitz with senior officers and watched another wave of ship forms appear around the task force. Mary's sister and brother stood nearby with several cousins, while Belfast remained close enough to protect Mary's dirty Full Dress White Uniform from being misplaced. The President looked across the water as Bismarck's form settled into existence beyond one section of the screen and asked, "How many Kansen are planning to participate?" Enterprise answered from nearby, "As many as the command actually needs, sir, because Mom's daughters have been volunteering faster than anyone can assign them."
Mary's voice came from a speaker. "That sounds like them."
Enterprise smiled toward the camera. "You're proud."
"Very."
The President turned toward the camera. "And worried."
Mary did not deny it. "Terrified."
Her admission quieted everyone close enough to hear. Mary continued, "Being their mother doesn't stop because I became one of them, sir, and knowing what they can survive doesn't make watching my daughters prepare for combat easy." Her voice trembled for only a moment before strengthening. "But the hostages in this room have families too." The President nodded slowly. "That's why everyone out there is preparing."
More ship forms emerged. Mary shifted cameras. Then she noticed New Jersey. The battleship remained in human form at the edge of USS Nimitz's flight deck while nearly every daughter around her had already summoned her vessel. New Jersey looked toward the water, rolled her shoulders, and then glanced toward the nearest camera with an expression Mary recognized immediately. It was the same look Honey used whenever she knew she was about to do something dramatic.
Mary's camera zoomed closer. "Honey."
New Jersey smiled. "Yes, Mom?"
"What are you doing?"
New Jersey's grin widened. "Joining my sisters."
Mary became suspicious. "You look too happy."
Enterprise looked toward New Jersey. "Oh no."
Hornet immediately turned. "What?"
Enterprise pointed. "That face."
Yorktown looked over. Her eyes widened. New Jersey stepped toward the edge. "Love you, Mom."
Mary answered quickly. "Honey, what did you…"
Cyan-blue Wisdom Cube light exploded across the sea. The shock was not the existence of USS New Jersey (BB-62). Everyone knew what New Jersey was. The shock came when the light faded. The Iowa-class battleship standing in the water was not configured as many of the Kansen remembered her.
Her nine 16-inch/50-caliber Mark 7 guns remained unmistakable within three enormous triple turrets, and twelve 5-inch/38-caliber Mark 12 guns remained across her secondary batteries, but additional systems covered the ship in a configuration that immediately sent naval officers reaching for binoculars and sensor operators checking identification displays. Four armored box launchers accounted for thirty-two BGM-109C Tomahawk land-attack cruise missiles, while sixteen RGM-84 Block 1C Harpoon anti-ship missiles occupied their own launchers. Four 20mm/76-caliber Mark 15 Phalanx Block 1 close-in weapon systems completed the transformation.
Mary stared through her camera. The President stared from the island. Enterprise stared from the flight deck. Belfast slowly lowered Mary's folded uniform. Hornet's mouth dropped open. Yorktown whispered, "New Jersey."
Mary finally found her voice. "Honey."
New Jersey looked toward the camera. "Yes?"
Mary's camera zoomed farther in. "Why do you have your 1982 modernization?"
The battleship blinked. Then looked over her own vessel. "I…"
She stopped. Her eyes widened. "I don't know."
Enterprise moved closer to the flight-deck edge. "You manifested Tomahawks."
New Jersey looked toward her ship. "I can see that!"
Hornet pointed toward the water as if New Jersey might somehow have missed the enormous modernized battleship she had just created. "You have Harpoons too!" New Jersey turned toward her. "Hornet, I am currently trying to process the fact that I apparently woke up thirty-nine years more modern than expected!"
Mary burst out laughing. New Jersey looked toward the camera. "Mom!"
Mary struggled to stop. "I'm sorry, honey."
"You are not sorry!"
"No, I'm really not."
The laughter spreading across Mary's speakers became contagious enough that Enterprise began laughing too, followed by Hornet and several sailors who had been staring at the modernized battleship in disbelief. Even New Jersey eventually placed both hands over her face and started laughing because the alternative was trying to understand another impossible Wisdom Cube surprise during a day already overflowing with them. "Okay," she said after regaining some control, "I have nine sixteen-inch Mark Sevens, twelve five-inch Mark Twelves, thirty-two Tomahawks, sixteen Harpoons, and four Phalanx systems." She looked at the carrier camera. "Mom, did you do this?"
Mary immediately answered. "I did not."
New Jersey pointed at USS Nimitz. "You are the weird Wisdom Cube phenomenon!"
Mary sounded offended. "That does not automatically make every strange thing my fault."
Enterprise muttered, "It has been a surprisingly reliable theory today."
Mary shifted the camera toward her. "I heard that."
Enterprise smiled. "I know."
New Jersey looked back toward her battleship form and slowly extended one hand as though feeling the systems through her own Kansen connection. Her laughter faded into genuine astonishment as she recognized the modernization not as equipment bolted onto something separate, but as part of herself in exactly the same way Mary had been learning to understand USS Nimitz. "They're mine," New Jersey whispered. "I can feel the Tomahawks, the Harpoons, the Phalanx mounts, all of it." Yorktown stepped beside her and asked, "Does it feel wrong?"
New Jersey closed her eyes. "No."
She opened them again. "It feels like it's always been there."
Mary became quiet. That answer mattered. She understood it better than anyone else present. "Then maybe Wisdom Cubes don't care as much about when a ship carried something as we thought."
Yorktown looked toward the camera. "You think her Cube accepted the modernization as part of her identity?"
Mary replied carefully, "I don't know enough yet to call it an answer, sweetheart, but Honey doesn't sound like someone controlling an upgrade somebody added externally." She focused again on New Jersey through the camera. "She sounds like I do when I'm talking about my reactor."
New Jersey looked toward USS Nimitz. "Like it's me."
Mary's voice softened. "Exactly."
The revelation traveled rapidly across the Kansen contingent, although command prevented the excitement from disrupting final rescue preparations. Human officers recorded the unexpected configuration for later study while New Jersey confirmed that she could keep every modernized weapon safe and under controlled Kansen command. Nobody treated the unexpected Tomahawks or Harpoons as permission to fire them toward a hostage-filled compound, and New Jersey herself was the first to reject such stupidity. "My sisters and Mom are in there," she said sharply when a junior planner merely mentioned documenting all available weapon systems. "Nothing leaves my launchers unless the rescue command specifically needs it somewhere that doesn't put them at risk."
Mary smiled through her camera. "That's my girl."
New Jersey's entire expression softened. "I love hearing you say that again."
Mary's voice nearly broke. "I love being able to say it again."
The fleet's emotional moment ended when a secure command notification moved across the communications systems aboard USS Nimitz. Final readiness checks were beginning. Aircraft crews moved toward assigned planes, helicopter crews gathered around machines that would support the recovery force, medical teams checked casualty-reception stations, and the multinational special operations personnel prepared for the roles already assigned through their national chains of command. The 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment coordinated aviation support, while Combat Control and other air-ground coordination personnel prepared to support the broader operation without broadcasting unnecessary details. Pararescue teams and medical elements checked equipment for recovering wounded hostages, while Rangers and other supporting forces prepared for their designated responsibilities outside the most sensitive assault elements.
DEVGRU and Delta personnel disappeared deeper into restricted preparation areas, while British SAS, German KSK, French 1er RPIMa and 13e RDP, Japanese Special Forces Group personnel, Russian Spetsnaz GRU representatives, American Green Berets, Marine Raiders, and the other participating units synchronized only what the combined force required. Nobody needed fifteen different elite formations trying to prove themselves in the same doorway, and the multinational command deliberately assigned roles rather than allowing prestige to create chaos. Mary heard enough of the coordination through her own ship systems to appreciate the professionalism without trying to insert herself into planning she could not see from inside the target. Her job remained simple.
Keep the hostages together. Keep them calm. Keep feeding verified information. Stay alive. Mary touched the HOOK3. "Nightwitch One-One to Nimitz."
Enterprise answered. "Go ahead, Mom."
Mary looked toward Mercer. He nodded. Mary continued, "No major change in the holding area, but we heard additional vehicle movement outside approximately ten minutes ago and more voices than usual in the corridor." She deliberately avoided guessing at numbers she could not verify. "We cannot determine whether they are reinforcing the compound or simply changing personnel."
A command officer aboard Nimitz acknowledged the information. "Copy, Nightwitch One-One. Do not expose yourself trying to confirm."
Mary almost smiled. "That order was definitely written specifically for me."
Her brother's voice suddenly appeared on another internal microphone aboard the carrier. "Yes, it was."
Mary's eyes widened. "You are not on this circuit."
"I am standing beside Enterprise."
Mary could hear Hornet laughing nearby. "Traitors. All of you."
Her sister joined them. "Stay in the room, Mary."
Mary sighed. "I am in the room."
"Stay there."
Mary looked toward the reinforced door. "I heard you."
Her sister's voice became more emotional. "No, I need you to hear me as your sister, not an admiral. We already buried you once."
Mary's expression changed. Every nearby hostage heard the silence. Her sister continued through USS Nimitz's microphone. "I cannot watch Mom and Dad survive losing you again because you decide everybody else's life matters more than yours." Her voice broke, but she forced herself onward. "Help them. Protect them. Do whatever you have to do if the room gets hit, but don't go looking for a fight."
Mary closed her eyes. Through USS Nimitz, she saw her sister standing beside Enterprise. Through her Kansen body's ears, she heard hostages breathing around her. Both were equally real. "I promise."
Her sister stared toward the camera. "Say exactly what you're promising."
Mary almost laughed despite the emotion. "You really are my sister."
"Mary."
Mary surrendered. "I promise I will stay with the hostages unless remaining here becomes more dangerous than moving, and I will not go looking for pirates to fight."
Her sister exhaled. "Thank you."
Mary smiled. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The battle-stations call moved through USS Nimitz soon afterward. Mary felt it before she heard it. Compartments shifted into readiness. Sailors moved with purpose throughout her passageways. Aviation crews checked aircraft across her deck. Aegis continued painting the surrounding airspace.
The restored reactor maintained steady output. Her guided-missile systems remained powered and controlled. Her first reactor was awake. Her second reactor remained silent. Her four shafts remained still. But Mary no longer interpreted any of those facts as something happening to a separate ship.
She was standing still. She was watching. She was preparing. Across the water surrounding Mary, her daughters' ship forms settled into their places throughout the combined force. Enterprise, Yorktown, Hornet, Queen Elizabeth, Prince of Wales, Bismarck, Tirpitz, Richelieu, Jean Bart, Vittorio Veneto, Littorio, New Jersey, and others formed an extraordinary ring of steel around the modern allied warships. Some represented carriers, some battleships, others cruisers or smaller combatants, and every one carried a woman whose emotional reason for being there was identical.
Their mother was inside that fortress. So were innocent people who had been taken while trying to help others. Enterprise stood upon USS Nimitz's flight deck and looked across the gathering fleet. "Mom?" she asked quietly.
Mary answered through a nearby speaker. "I'm here."
Enterprise took a slow breath. "We're almost ready."
Mary's physical hand rested over the HOOK3 pouch on her combat vest. "So are we."
Hornet stepped beside Enterprise. "You scared?"
Mary did not pretend. "Yes."
Hornet nodded. "Me too."
Yorktown joined them. "Good."
Hornet glanced at her. "Good?"
Yorktown looked toward the camera. "Fear means we understand what's at stake."
Mary smiled. "That sounds like something I would have said."
Yorktown smiled back. "I learned from my mother."
Mary almost cried again.
New Jersey approached from behind them while her modernized Iowa-class vessel remained visible across the dark water. "Everybody ready for one more surprise today?" Mary immediately replied, "No." New Jersey grinned. "Fair." Enterprise looked toward her and asked, "How does the modernization feel?" New Jersey's expression became thoughtful. "Like me."
Mary responded softly. "Then that's enough for tonight."
Belfast arrived carrying Mary's dirt-covered Full Dress Whites in a protective garment bag she had found without cleaning a single mark from the fabric. "Mary, your uniform is secure," she said, glancing toward the camera as she approached the daughters. "It will remain exactly as it arrived until you personally decide otherwise." Mary felt a strange warmth at the sight. "Thank you, Bells."
Belfast looked across the water. "Your daughters are ready."
Mary shifted cameras. She looked upon them. All of them she could see. Ship-girls aboard modern vessels. Ship-girls standing beside their summoned forms.
Sailors. Pilots. Special operations personnel. Medical teams. Her biological family.
The President and senior commanders. Thousands upon thousands of people preparing to bring strangers home because those strangers needed them. Mary spoke through USS Nimitz's shipwide speakers. Her voice reached passageways, flight-deck stations, command spaces, and carefully selected operational areas throughout the carrier. "This is Nimitz."
Everyone listening stopped for just a moment. Mary drew a breath inside Somalia. "I know most of you have spent the last day hearing more impossible things about me than anyone should be expected to process, and I know some of you are preparing to risk your lives for people you've never met." She looked around the hostage room before continuing. "I am sitting with those people right now."
Several hostages looked toward her. Mary's voice traveled through her ship. "They're tired. They're scared. Some are injured. Some have families waiting for them, and some don't even know whether their families have been told they're alive."
Enterprise closed her eyes. Mary continued. "They are not objectives on a map."
The President listened from Combat. "They are people."
The flight deck quieted as much as an active carrier deck could. Mary's hand closed around the HOOK3 pouch. "And so are the men and women preparing to bring us out."
She swallowed. "I will not tell any of you that you aren't allowed to be afraid, because I'm afraid too."
New Jersey looked toward the camera. Mary's brother lowered his head. "But we are going to do this the way my daughters have always done the impossible."
Enterprise whispered the answer before Mary said it. "Together."
Mary smiled in Somalia. "Together."
The word traveled through USS Nimitz. Then the battle-stations atmosphere returned. Engines started aboard aircraft and helicopters where authorized. Crew chiefs finished final inspections. Shipboard communication networks carried readiness reports.
Kansen daughters returned attention toward their own vessels. The multinational armada tightened into the posture required for the operation to come. And beneath every sound aboard USS Nimitz, Mary felt the one operating A4W reactor beating steadily like a massive nuclear heart. Her heart. She was still immobile.
Still incomplete in one important physical sense. Still waiting to reunite Kansen body and vessel form. But Mary Elizabeth Nimitz was no longer a dead woman trapped helplessly in Somalia. She was a mother inside the stronghold. She was an admiral speaking through an aircraft carrier. She was the carrier around which an international rescue force had assembled.
She was on the USS Nimitz. And her daughters were coming.
Time: 8:16 PM
The multinational rescue operation began without ceremony, because by that point every person involved understood that speeches had ended and the people trapped inside the Somali stronghold needed action rather than promises. Across USS Nimitz's restored dark-blue flight deck, aircraft crews moved away from fighters and helicopters as engines climbed into powerful roars, while Mary's daughters aboard their summoned ship forms launched aircraft of their own and brought weapons into readiness under the combined command structure. Enterprise, Yorktown, Hornet, Saratoga, Lexington, Akagi, Kaga, Queen Elizabeth, Prince of Wales, Bismarck, Tirpitz, Richelieu, Jean Bart, Vittorio Veneto, Littorio, New Jersey, Cleveland, Helena, and every other daughter assigned to the theater took some part in the rescue, whether through aircraft, naval fire support, reconnaissance, air defense, electronic warfare, or protecting the outer perimeter. Mary felt the movement through USS Nimitz as aircraft rolled across her flight deck and the single operational A4W reactor continued beating steadily within her enormous vessel body. Sitting on the dusty floor hundreds of miles away, she whispered to herself, "Bring them home, girls, and come home yourselves."
F/A-18E/F Super Hornets rolled into launch positions aboard USS Nimitz, while F-35Cs prepared behind them and EA-18G Growlers joined the larger air package to protect the force electronically rather than simply adding more weapons over the hostage zone. E-2D Advanced Hawkeyes maintained the broad aerial picture as helicopters belonging to the rescue force departed from multiple ships and staging points, their crews carrying the special operations personnel who had spent hours preparing for this moment. Aircraft launched by Mary's carrier daughters joined the modern formations in carefully separated groups, transforming the night sky into an extraordinary mixture of twenty-first-century military aviation and Wisdom Cube-created aircraft representing several generations of naval warfare. Battleship daughters remained farther offshore where their heavier weapons could be used only against targets positively identified away from hostage buildings, while cruisers and destroyers protected the approaches and watched for anyone attempting to escape by sea. Nobody in the command network confused overwhelming available firepower with permission to use it carelessly.
Inside USS Nimitz's Combat Direction Center, the President stood behind the officers directing the American contribution while Mary's brother, sister, and six military cousins remained in protected areas aboard the carrier rather than interfering with the professionals fighting to recover her. Belfast moved between command stations and communications personnel with her usual efficiency, though Mary's dirt-covered Admiral Full Dress White Uniform remained secured nearby exactly as Mary had requested. Enterprise and several sisters shared information with the human commanders, while other daughters operated through their manifested ships and aircraft outside. Every few moments someone instinctively glanced toward one of USS Nimitz's cameras because everyone aboard now understood that Mary could be watching through it. She usually was.
Mary's physical Kansen body remained inside the hostage room wearing her NWU Type III combat uniform and IOTV, with the Advanced Combat Helmet and GPNVG-18 ready if the room lost its remaining light. Her suppressed Mk 23 rested in her right hand, the HOOK3 remained secured in its dedicated position, and the AN/PRC-152A carried with her manifested equipment sat inside the reinforced radio pouch on her vest. Lieutenant Commander Mercer and the other military hostages had organized the civilians away from the reinforced entrance as much as the cramped room allowed, although nobody pretended a locked concrete chamber offered true safety once fighting began outside. Mary heard the first distant explosion through her human ears at almost the same moment that USS Nimitz's sensors registered aircraft crossing deeper toward the operation area. "That was ours," she said quietly, and Mercer gave her a strange look before remembering that the woman beside him was simultaneously sitting in Somalia and existing as a guided-missile aircraft carrier hundreds of miles away.
The HOOK3 sounded, and Mary immediately answered while keeping her voice down. An American controller aboard USS Nimitz told her that a dedicated communications preset had been pushed to the combat radio that had manifested with her uniform, allowing her to leave the emergency-survival channel behind for normal rescue communications. "Admiral, use preset six on your PRC-152A, designated MOTHER NET," the voice explained, deliberately giving her a fictionalized mission channel designation rather than forcing the HOOK3 to carry every conversation. "Your callsign remains Nightwitch One-One, and authorized Kansen command stations are tied into the net so your daughters can hear you directly when necessary." Mary stared at the combat radio for a heartbeat before exchanging the HOOK3 for it and selecting the indicated preset.
Static whispered through her Comtac II headset. Then Enterprise spoke. "Mom?"
Mary's entire expression changed. "Enty?"
Hornet immediately broke onto the shared channel. "Mom, we can hear you without that tiny survival radio now!" Yorktown followed with a calmer but equally emotional voice, telling Mary that all participating daughters had access through their assigned communications nodes rather than trying to crowd onto one uncontrolled circuit. New Jersey could be heard laughing somewhere in the background before saying, "Welcome to MOTHER NET, Mom." Mary covered her face with one gloved hand and replied, "Who named it that?"
Belfast answered from USS Nimitz. "I have elected not to disclose that information."
Mary narrowed her eyes. "Bells."
"I am afraid operational security prevents comment."
Mary could hear her daughters laughing across the circuit, and for several precious seconds the fear inside the hostage chamber weakened enough for civilians to smile as well. Mary shook her head and adjusted the push-to-talk control connected to her headset. "Fine, MOTHER NET it is, but if this becomes the official name after tonight, I am blaming all of you."
Enterprise answered warmly. "We can live with that."
The first reports from the assault force arrived moments later, and the emotional warmth disappeared beneath professional voices announcing that aircraft were approaching the wider stronghold while special operations elements moved toward their designated objectives. Mary did not receive detailed routes or assault instructions, because nobody needed a hostage carrying information that would endanger rescuers if her radio were taken. Instead, she received what mattered to her: friendly forces were moving, the hostages should remain inside unless forced out, and Mary should report only things she could directly verify. She acknowledged and looked toward Mercer. "They're coming."
The civilians around them reacted in different ways, with some starting to cry and others suddenly looking more frightened because rescue transformed a week of helpless waiting into something immediate and dangerous. A humanitarian nurse clutched another woman's hand and whispered, "They're really here?" Mary holstered her pistol momentarily and crouched beside them, lowering herself so her six-foot-five frame seemed less imposing. "They're here, and I need everybody to listen to the military personnel in this room even if things get loud," she said, her voice gentle despite the explosions beginning to roll faintly through the concrete. "My daughters and a lot of very determined people came a long way to bring you home."
The first major clash erupted outside the stronghold when surveillance aircraft identified vehicles moving from protected areas toward likely defensive positions, and military controllers began passing only confirmed hostile targets to the aircraft overhead. Through MOTHER NET, Mary heard a calm voice report of armed vehicles clear of known hostage structures, followed by acknowledgements from allied pilots and Kansen daughters whose aircraft were already circling above the battlefield. Mary could not see Somalia through USS Nimitz's cameras, but radio traffic constructed a fragmented picture in her mind as hostile technicals and heavier military vehicles emerged from camouflaged sheds and hardened compounds. Then a surprised controller said something that caused everyone listening to pause. "Be advised, armored vehicles include T-72 Main Battle Tanks."
Mary's eyebrows rose. Mercer heard the report through a shared earpiece and looked at her. "T-72s?"
Mary shook her head in disbelief. "Pirates with tanks."
Outside, the battle intensified as the unexpected armor attempted to move along roads within the wider stronghold complex. Controllers called the vehicles only after establishing that they were away from marked or suspected hostage locations, and attack helicopters maneuvering above the battlefield answered alongside fixed-wing aircraft and Kansen aviation. Mary heard a pilot call "Rifle," followed several seconds later by an explosion powerful enough to send a dull vibration through the building around her. Another voice reported that the lead T-72 had been struck and was no longer moving.
Aboard USS Nimitz, one of the tactical displays showed the strike as an enemy armored symbol disappeared from the picture. The President watched silently while Enterprise gripped the edge of a console and listened to voices from aircraft overhead Somalia. "Mom heard that," she said quietly, and Belfast nodded because Mary's combat radio remained active on another station. New Jersey's voice came across the Kansen circuit from her modernized battleship form, sounding almost offended by what the pirates had somehow obtained. "Do they have actual tanks protecting a kidnapping network?" Mary answered from Somalia, "Apparently somebody decided piracy wasn't complicated enough."
Hornet's aircraft swept across a separate section of the stronghold, engaging armed vehicles that had moved clear of hostage-marked zones while Enterprise and Yorktown directed their own aviation toward targets identified by allied controllers. Akagi and Kaga's aircraft joined another portion of the attack, while Royal Navy, Iron Blood, Iris Libre, Sardegna, Northern Parliament, and Eagle Union daughters each supported assigned sectors rather than descending into an uncontrolled competition. Bismarck and Tirpitz held their heaviest guns until commanders identified hardened positions sufficiently distant from civilians, while Queen Elizabeth and Prince of Wales did the same under British coordination. Richelieu and Jean Bart supported the French special operations movement, and Vittorio Veneto and Littorio protected another approach. Every daughter wanted to reach Mary personally, but all of them understood that loving their mother meant following the plan designed to prevent killing the people standing beside her.
New Jersey's 1982-modernized ship form remained an extraordinary sight among them, her Tomahawk and Harpoon launchers visible alongside the massive 16-inch guns and Phalanx systems, but she refused to employ weapons whose effects were inappropriate for the immediate hostage area. Instead, she used her presence to cover the force and remained prepared against threats that might emerge beyond the rescue complex. "I swear, Mom, having thirty-two Tomahawks and being told none of the targets require them feels incredibly unfair," she complained over MOTHER NET. Mary replied, "Honey, if you ever say that sentence when civilians are nearby again, Belfast is going to make you write an essay." Belfast's perfectly composed voice followed immediately. "Twenty pages." New Jersey groaned, while even tense operators aboard USS Nimitz laughed.
The humor died when footsteps suddenly thundered outside the hostage room. Mercer's head snapped toward the door. Mary's pistol came up. The military hostages moved between the civilians and the entrance without needing anyone to tell them why the sound was wrong. Voices outside were louder than the usual guards, angry and hurried, and the unmistakable clatter of weapons followed before something slammed against the reinforced door. Mary felt every civilian behind her go silent.
"Everybody down," Mercer ordered, keeping his voice controlled despite the terror crossing his face. Mary raised the combat radio long enough to transmit, "Nightwitch One-One, hostile movement at our holding room, multiple armed personnel attempting entry." Enterprise's immediate response carried fear Mary had never heard from her in battle. "Mom, stay alive." Mary looked toward the door and answered, "That's the plan, sweetheart."
The lock disengaged from outside. The door opened.
Ten Somali pirates entered with weapons raised, and nothing in their expressions suggested they had come to relocate prisoners peacefully. One shouted toward the hostages while another began bringing his rifle around, and the trained military personnel in the room reacted before the civilians fully understood what was happening. Mary fired her Mk 23 as Mercer and the other military hostages seized the narrow opportunity created by the pirates' assumption that everyone inside remained helpless.
The exchange lasted only seconds. It felt much longer.
Gunfire hammered through the concrete room while civilians pressed themselves against the floor and military captives fought from whatever positions the cramped space gave them. Mary moved instinctively between the attackers and the civilians, firing only when she had a clear hostile target, while Mercer and several allied servicemembers engaged alongside her. When the shooting finally stopped, all ten pirates who had entered the room were dead or motionless from fatal wounds, and none of the hostages had been killed.
Mary stood frozen for half a heartbeat. Her pistol remained pointed toward the floor after she confirmed the immediate threat was gone. Then she heard someone crying behind her. She turned at once. "Is anyone hit?"
Mercer began checking the military personnel while medical hostages moved toward the civilians. "No friendly casualties in the room that I can see," he answered, breathing hard as adrenaline caught up with him. Mary closed her eyes for a moment and whispered, "Thank God."
Enterprise had heard the gunfire over MOTHER NET. "Mom!"
Mary immediately keyed her radio. "I am here."
Enterprise's breathing came through raggedly. "What happened?"
"Ten armed pirates entered the holding room and attempted to kill us." Mary looked across the bodies but kept her description clinical for the daughters listening. "Military personnel and I stopped them, hostages are alive, and we are checking everyone now."
Hornet's voice trembled. "You had to shoot them?"
Mary's expression tightened. "Yes."
Silence followed from several daughters. Mary looked down at the Mk 23 in her hand, feeling the emotional weight of what had just happened despite the necessity. "I don't feel good about it, girls," she said quietly. "I feel grateful the people behind me are still alive." Enterprise answered after a moment, "That's enough for me, Mom."
The surviving military hostages moved quickly because the attempted execution had changed their situation completely. Weapons, ammunition, and usable communications equipment carried by the dead pirates were collected and distributed only to trained military personnel rather than frightened civilians. Mercer took one recovered rifle, while Royal Marines, French naval security personnel, German troops, Italian military personnel, and other trained captives armed themselves from what was available. Mary remained with her Mk 23 and combat radio, positioning herself where she could protect the civilians while the military hostages watched the entrances.
A frightened aid worker stared at the rifles now in allied hands. "Are they coming back?"
Mercer answered honestly. "Probably."
Mary moved beside the woman. "But they're not walking into a helpless room anymore."
The woman looked toward her. Mary gave her a reassuring smile despite how violently her own hands wanted to shake. "And our people are getting closer."
Above the stronghold, they were much closer than Mary realized.
Helicopters from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment moved across the night while attack aircraft and Mary's daughters' planes kept hostile vehicles from concentrating against the incoming force. Air Force Combat Control personnel and other controllers coordinated strikes against verified targets clear of marked civilian locations, with military voices calling out vehicles that attempted to rush toward the fighting. A group of technicals racing from an outer compound disappeared beneath strikes from Kansen aircraft, while another armored vehicle was stopped by allied fixed-wing support before it could reach the main hostage area. The battlefield became a chaotic mixture of tracers, explosions, rotor noise, aircraft overhead, and the deeper thunder of naval gunfire directed only toward distant hardened targets cleared for engagement.
A second T-72 appeared from behind a damaged warehouse and turned toward the sound of approaching helicopters. A controller spotted it. "Armor moving near the western vehicle yard, clear of hostage markings."
One of the attack helicopters above answered. Mary heard the call over MOTHER NET. Seconds later the missile struck.
The T-72 disappeared inside an orange-white flash before smoke rolled outward across the vehicle yard, and one of the military hostages near Mary instinctively whispered, "Jesus." Mary could not see the tank directly, yet aircraft reports confirmed that it had stopped. New Jersey's voice arrived through the network a moment later. "Mom, remind me after this is over that we need to have a serious conversation about who was supplying these people."
Mary's expression hardened. "We will."
That question was becoming larger with every minute.
Pirates possessing technicals and old armored vehicles could be explained by decades of regional weapons proliferation, but a fortified network with multiple T-72s, organized communications, protected vehicle yards, and enough resources to imprison a multinational humanitarian mission suggested something more than a handful of criminals operating from fishing boats. The President and intelligence officers aboard USS Nimitz were already reaching the same conclusion. Nobody allowed that mystery to distract from the immediate rescue, but everyone understood the operation might uncover evidence pointing beyond the stronghold itself. The first special operations personnel to reach Mary's building came from DEVGRU. Two SEAL assault squads approached aboard special operations helicopters while hostile attention was divided by the wider battle, and Mary heard the aircraft before anyone inside could identify them. The deep rotor noise passed almost directly overhead, followed by a sudden increase in activity above the concrete ceiling. Mercer looked upward and grinned for the first time since the shooting. "That's not pirate aviation."
Mary's heart jumped. "MOTHER NET, Nightwitch One-One, I have helicopters directly over our building."
A controller responded quickly. "Friendly."
Mary closed her eyes. Through USS Nimitz, Enterprise heard the same confirmation. "Mom, they're there."
Mary laughed once through sudden tears. "I know."
On the roof above them, the helicopters held position only long enough for two DEVGRU squads to fast-rope down before pulling away from the immediate building. The SEALs secured the rooftop and immediately established a visible friendly identification marker, placing an IFF/IR strobe where friendly aircraft and forces monitoring the rescue could recognize that the structure contained allied personnel. Within the tactical picture, the building holding Mary and the main hostage group changed from a suspected location into a positively marked friendly rescue site. The effect across the allied communications network was immediate. "Primary hostage building marked friendly."
Aboard USS Nimitz, Enterprise covered her mouth. Yorktown took her hand. Hornet began crying. Belfast closed her eyes. Mary's brother wrapped an arm around their sister while the President watched the marker appear upon the tactical display.
One of Mary's cousins whispered, "They reached her."
Mary heard him through the carrier's microphones. "Not quite yet."
Her voice came from USS Nimitz's overhead speaker at the same time it came through MOTHER NET. Her brother looked toward the camera. "Close enough for me to breathe again."
Mary smiled despite the gunfire outside. "Me too."
The DEVGRU operators moved downward through the building while Mary and the armed military hostages held their room from inside. They did not exchange elaborate radio instructions or attempt to coordinate a complicated maneuver through an open channel; instead, Mary simply confirmed that friendly hostages were alive and armed military captives were protecting the civilians. The SEAL element already had the building marked and knew where friendlies were concentrated. That was enough.
The sound of fighting approached from outside the room. Then a voice shouted from the corridor in English. "United States Forces!"
Mercer nearly sagged. Mary raised her radio. "Nightwitch One-One, friendly voices outside our room."
The answer came immediately. "Confirmed."
The door opened again. This time the weapons entering pointed away from the hostages. Two SEALs appeared first, followed closely by the rest of the lead element, and one of them froze for the smallest fraction of a second upon seeing the six-foot-five woman in the U.S. Navy combat equipment standing among armed former hostages. His eyes dropped to the NIMITZ identifier and then returned to her face. "Admiral Nimitz?"
Mary almost laughed from sheer relief. "In the flesh."
The SEAL looked at the pistol in her hand, the military captives holding recovered pirate rifles, and the ten dead attackers farther inside the room. "You've had a busy evening." Mary let out a shaky breath. "You have absolutely no idea."
Mercer stepped forward and identified himself before giving the lead SEAL a rapid status summary, while medical personnel among the rescue forces began checking the wounded and preparing the civilians for movement when the building was secure enough. Mary did not interfere with their work. Instead, she moved backward among the hostages and looked at people who had spent a week believing they might never leave Somalia alive.
A humanitarian worker grabbed Mary's sleeve. "Is this really it?"
Mary looked into her eyes. "Yes."
The woman started crying. Mary wrapped one arm around her. "They found us."
The woman clung to her. Mary's own tears returned. "We're going home."
Outside Mary's building, the rescue operation expanded rather than ended.
The stronghold was larger than intelligence had fully understood, and special operations teams moving through separate sections began discovering evidence that the main chamber with Mary was not the only place prisoners had been held. British SAS personnel found another secured building containing additional captives who had not been listed with the original humanitarian convoy. German KSK elements reported another group elsewhere in the complex, while French 1er RPIMa personnel and reconnaissance support from 13e RDP helped identify still more protected structures. Japanese Special Forces Group personnel, Marine Raiders, Green Berets, Rangers, Delta operators, Russian Spetsnaz GRU personnel, Pararescue teams, and other assigned elements worked across their designated areas within the broader rescue effort.
As each building containing confirmed friendly hostages was secured, an IFF or infrared strobe marker appeared. One became three. Three became five. The tactical map aboard USS Nimitz changed repeatedly as more friendly-marked locations appeared throughout the sprawling compound.
The President stared at the display. "How many hostages are actually in this place?"
An intelligence officer shook his head. "More than the original missing list accounted for, sir."
Enterprise heard that and looked toward Mary's camera. "Mom."
Mary was already listening. "I heard."
Her expression hardened as another rescue team reported civilians from a different incident who had apparently been held by the same network. "These people have been collecting hostages."
Belfast's voice became cold. "For considerably longer than one week."
Mary nodded inside Somalia. "Then nobody gets left behind."
The phrase moved through MOTHER NET before command could repeat it. All of Mary's daughters heard her. Enterprise answered first. "Nobody."
Yorktown followed. "Nobody."
Hornet's voice came next, emotional but determined. "We will find every last one."
New Jersey joined them. "And we bring every last one home."
Other daughters echoed across their assigned channels until the sentiment became larger than any single faction. Queen Elizabeth answered for the Royal Navy daughters, Bismarck for Iron Blood, Richelieu for Iris Libre, Vittorio Veneto for Sardegna, while Akagi and Kaga joined from their own aviation sector. Mary could hear dozens of voices overlap for only a moment before proper communications discipline returned, but the message had already reached her.
Every daughter was fighting. Not simply for Mary. For everyone.
Carrier daughters kept aircraft over the battlefield and provided reconnaissance, interception, and precision support wherever controllers identified safe targets. Battleship daughters engaged only those hardened hostile positions that could be struck without endangering marked hostage buildings, while cruiser and destroyer daughters used their weapons against vehicles and escape routes beyond the civilian zones. Kansen aircraft swept after pirate reinforcements attempting to reach the complex, and daughter-controlled fighters protected the helicopters carrying special operations forces and medical teams. The mixture of ship-girl power and modern military aviation turned the pirates' initial attempt to organize a coordinated defense into fragmented pockets increasingly isolated from one another.
Mary heard Hornet call over the shared network after one of her aircraft hit a hostile vehicle outside the hostage-marked sectors. "Mom, one vehicle stopped, no friendly marker anywhere near it." Mary closed her eyes briefly and answered, "Good hit, sweetheart, keep your eyes open." Hornet sounded almost like a child receiving praise despite the battle around her. "I will." Enterprise followed from another aircraft group, reporting that her planes were remaining overhead while rescue helicopters crossed beneath them.
Akagi's voice entered next. "Okāsan, my aircraft is above you."
Mary's breath caught. "Akagi."
"I cannot see you inside the building."
Mary smiled. "But you're there."
"Yes."
Kaga joined her sister. "We both are."
Mary looked toward the ceiling. "My girls are everywhere tonight."
Bismarck answered from offshore. "As we should be, Mutter."
Queen Elizabeth immediately added, "Honestly, Mother, did you expect anything less?" Mary laughed despite the battle and replied, "No, sweetheart, I really didn't." Richelieu's voice followed more gently. "Then trust us to help bring you back." Mary rested one hand against the wall of the building and answered, "I do."
The DEVGRU team leader approached Mary after receiving another update and told her the roof and immediate building were under friendly control, though fighting continued elsewhere in the stronghold. Medical teams were beginning to sort the hostages according to condition, and movement would occur in controlled groups as safe routes opened. Mary immediately looked toward the most seriously injured civilians. "They go first."
The SEAL nodded. "That was already the plan."
Mary gave him a small smile. "I like you."
Mercer laughed nearby. "He's known you for thirty seconds."
Mary glanced at him. "Competence makes excellent first impressions."
The SEAL's mouth twitched before he returned attention to his radio. The recovered pirate weapons held by military hostages were gradually handed over or cleared as rescue personnel took control of the room. One Royal Marine seemed almost reluctant to release the rifle he had used to protect the civilians, not because he wanted the weapon but because giving it up meant accepting that someone else finally stood between the hostages and danger. A British operator reached out and took it from him, saying quietly, "We've got them now." The Marine stared at him for a heartbeat and then nodded.
Mary watched the exchange. She understood exactly what it meant. For hours she had believed she needed to be the wall between the hostages and everyone trying to hurt them. Now there were other walls. DEVGRU was inside her building. More special operations teams were sweeping the stronghold.
Her daughters controlled the skies and sea approaches. Aircraft and helicopters struck or blocked hostile vehicles whenever friendly controllers confirmed safe engagement. Rescue medics were touching the wounded. IFF strobes glowed above every building where hostages had been found. Mary finally allowed her shoulders to lower.
Enterprise noticed the change in her voice when Mary keyed MOTHER NET. "Enty."
"I'm here, Mom."
Mary swallowed. "They reached us."
Enterprise began crying. "I know."
Mary's mouth trembled. "They really reached us."
Yorktown and Hornet could be heard crying behind Enterprise, while New Jersey released a broken laugh over another connection. Mary pressed her gloved fingers to her mouth and looked around at the civilians beginning to realize they were no longer prisoners.
Enterprise answered with the same words Mary had used for them their entire lives. "You're safe with us."
Mary closed her eyes. Through her Kansen body, she heard the SEALs and rescued hostages around her. Through USS Nimitz, she heard her crew, family, daughters, and the President hundreds of miles away. Through MOTHER NET, she heard aircraft and daughters moving across the battle. For the first time since rebirth, both halves of her existence seemed to point toward the same destination. Home.
Mary looked down at the combat radio and whispered, "All stations on MOTHER NET, Nightwitch One-One." Several daughters acknowledged almost immediately, their voices overlapping until communications personnel separated them again. Mary smiled through tears before saying, "The primary hostage building is secure, friendlies are inside with us, and the wounded are being prepared for evacuation."
Enterprise answered first. "Copy, Mom."
Mary continued. "And the other hostage buildings?"
A controller aboard USS Nimitz responded that multiple additional locations had now been confirmed and marked with IFF strobes, with rescue teams inside or approaching each one. Mary closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Then keep going."
New Jersey answered softly. "We will."
Mary looked toward the rescued civilians. "Nobody gets forgotten."
Bismarck answered. "Nobody."
Queen Elizabeth followed. "Not one."
Akagi's voice shook. "Okāsan, we will bring them all back."
Mary smiled. "I know."
Outside, another helicopter crossed the compound as a distant vehicle erupted under a precision strike far from the marked hostage buildings. Fighters swept overhead while Kansen aircraft joined them, and the thunder of the wider battle continued around structures now flashing friendly identification into the night. More rescue teams moved among the buildings, more prisoners emerged from locked rooms, and more names were added to a list that had begun with one missing humanitarian convoy and was rapidly becoming evidence of a much larger network of captivity.
The fight was not over. The stronghold was not fully secure. Mary had not yet returned to USS Nimitz. Her second reactor remained silent, and her four shafts remained motionless in the Gulf of Aden. But the distance between Mary and her ship body no longer felt impossible.
For the first time, people were physically carrying her toward it. Mary looked toward the SEAL standing at the doorway and asked, "How long until we move?" He told her they would move as soon as the route and evacuation sequence were confirmed, keeping the answer simple because battle conditions could change without warning. Mary nodded and looked toward Mercer.
He smiled tiredly. "You kept your promise."
Mary raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"
"You stayed with the hostages."
Mary looked around. "I told my sister I would."
Mercer chuckled. "I suspect disappointing her frightens you more than pirates."
Mary considered it. "Have you met my sister?"
He laughed. "Fair."
Mary's radio came alive again. "Mom."
Enterprise. Mary smiled immediately. "Yes, Enty?"
Enterprise took a trembling breath. "When they bring you out, I want you to know something."
Mary listened. "I don't care whether you arrive on a helicopter, in a transport, walking, flying, or somehow riding on New Jersey's bow."
New Jersey could be heard protesting faintly in the background. Enterprise continued through tears. "The second your feet touch your flight deck, I'm hugging you."
Mary's throat closed. She could already imagine it. Her six-foot-five Kansen body stepped onto the 1,092-foot carrier that was also herself. Her daughters are waiting. Her brother and sister are waiting.
Her cousins are waiting. Belfast holding the dirty white uniform Mary had worn when she first returned from death. The President is waiting somewhere aboard. And deep beneath all of them, the silent second A4W reactor and motionless propulsion plant waiting for their Kansen heart.
Mary pressed the push-to-talk button. "You'd better, sweetheart."
Enterprise laughed through her tears. "I will."
Mary looked toward the ceiling as another helicopter thundered overhead. Then she whispered the words her entire family had been waiting to hear since May 3rd. "I'm coming home."