And the Third Brought Fire Pt. 02

She was glad she wore dark, dark clothing.

And spirits...

Spirits wouldn't notice. Right?

They wouldn't.

She stood, unsteadily. Her knees quivered and she breathed steadily. Slowly.

Then she walked over to the spirit.

"H-Hey...I'm going to unwrap your covering," Nix whispered. "Please stay calm."

The spirit lifted her head.

Nix reached down and started with the neck wrap. She undid the clasp, loosened it, tugged it off. The spirit drew a breath.

Then, in a thick American accent - drawling and rustic - she said: "You fucking limey bitch, let me out of these goddamn chains!"

"...rude," Nix said, shaking her head. She yanked the cowl off and saw that the spirit had a high femme face with short, stubby hair and a pair of almost antler-like horns emerging from her head, done in steel and glittering aluminum. Her nose was narrow and her eyes were both black camera lenses. Her lips were gray, and her cheeks were black with a red streak painted on them, giving her an almost whiskery look. Nix cocked her head. She recognized the features and nose, those were...clearly an American ship, seagoing. The short hair implied that she didn't produce much steam - maybe a gas burner or a diesel? But...those antlers...

"You'd be rude if some limeys kept you in a box for years," the spirit snapped. She looked away. "Where am I? Where are we?"

"You're in Burned York," Nix said.

"Where?" the spirit asked.

"Uh...New York, you're in New York," Nix said. "What's your name?"

The spirit opened her mouth. Then she closed it. She blushed, making those red lines grow. "I-I don't know," she said. She didn't seem to be lying.

"Hum...memory loss usually means you were pretty badly damaged," Nix said, unlooping chains, tugging down the cloth burlap, revealing her shoulders, her breasts - and good lord she was stacked. Her breasts were full and heavy and her nipples were rubbery gray against her black belly, her sides gray, her back having another red stripe on her. She had white lines painted along her shoulders. Her buttocks was thick and heavy and looked like it would jiggle.

Nix stepped backwards. "You have the lines of an American ironclad," she said, slowly. "But you have the body of a gasburner."

"What else would ships burn?" the spirit asked, scowling.

Nix shook her head slowly. She walked around the spirit, who was now kneeling on the floor, her weight once more returned to her. "Short hair...trim lines, curvy, red paint, Southern accent," Nix whispered, trying to joggle the pieces together. "You don't remember anything?"

"...I was in a war," the spirit said, her voice sullen.

"Against us?" Nix asked.

"I dunno," the spirit shrugged her shoulders. "I think so. No." She frowned. "There were slant eyed bastards. Real tough sons of bitches."

Nix considered. Then she blinked. "Japanese?" she asked.

The spirit jerked her head up. "Yeah," she said, anger flashing in her eyes.

Nix blinked.

The pieces slotted into place. She had the lines of a seagoing ship, she floated like she went on water. She burned gas, not coal. She was American, southern. Newport News. "Holy shit," she whispered. "...you're...the...you're the..." She stumbled backwards, her voice cutting off as she realized the full weight of it. What it meant. The antlers. The short hair.

The white lines.

The flight decks.

The conning tower.

The radio detection systems.

The spirit blinked at her, lifting her head in slow realization.

Nix took a step back so fast her back hit the wall and her heart thundered in her chest.

"You're the goddamn Enterprise," she whispered.

The USS Enterprise blinked at her, slowly - and whispered. "I'm...the Enterprise..." she breathed.

Nix was beginning to regret taking the chains off.

TO BE CONTINUED