In our world, when significant ships reach the end of their lives at sea, they are often converted into museums. Having served long careers, become surplus, or just rendered obsolete by changes in technology, ships both military and civil (usually military) become display pieces. Most are usually scrapped, of course, and it's rare that a ship is turned into a floating or drydocked relic.
But in a world where ships are in fact attractive women armed with powerful weapons rather than boats, what happens?
In the Museum of Ships, Iowa was to meet her fate. The blonde battleship was surplus to requirements, and years of service meant she was simply too expensive to maintain. Years more in reserve had been her idle fate, but now, she was to be Museumed.
"I can still fight! You think missiles and planes are enough, huh? What if Marines need shore bombardment?!"
Her protests meant nothing, though. Naval warfare had changed, and her class as a whole were obsolete. They'd all been stricken from the register, her and her three sisters. Her three sisters had been sent here years before, and now, the namesake of the class was sent to become a display.
Dejected, but obeying the order, Iowa climbed up onto the pedestal, a couple of Navy officers with her. Across from her stood HMS Belfast. Like her and all the other shipgirls here, Belfast was disarmed, and stood before her looking otherwise normal. The Town-Class Cruiser held her maid skirt up, but looked despondent and dejected.
And was of course made completely of steel. Once white hair shined silver, her blue and white dress was a mirror sheen. Her white stockings were now the sheen of stainless alloy. Like every other Shipgirl that had been Museumed.
And now it was Iowa's turn.
"It... doesn't hurt, right?"
"No, ma'am. I don't believe it does," one officer told her.
"Okay. I mean, I could take it if I could, I'm tougher than any ship in the Navy today!" She said, with a little defiance, but her face fell anyway.
She thought of all those other ships now out there. Aegis ships, Supercarriers, Subs, Destroyers. She wondered if all those ships launching drones now knew she'd been the first?
"Are you ready?" An officer asked.
"...Fine," She sighed.
It indeed didn't hurt, but felt a bit cold. She was unable to move as soon as it started, her expression locked in a defeated pout, as her boots turned to steel. The transformation rose, changing her flag-styled stockings into featureless steel. Her legs and short skirt turned next, followed by her bare midriff, and then up to her impressive-calibre bust. Her shoulders became silvery, the effect pouring down her arms, as her face became a mask of metal. Finally, her blonde hair changed to stainless and shimmering reflective grey, museum lights twinkling off her curves and edges. Her mirror eyes stared with sadness across the way, to Belfast.
Just two more Museum Shipgirls in a gallery filled with them.