Prinz Eugen

The weather was musty, damp and wet. Not really anything new for someone from Germany like me. Kiel was the same, and so were the continental parts of our country. Still, there was something to this mustiness inside a mirror sea that was just unnerving to me. Not that anything was going to go south inside this one. It had been that woman, Odin, who set it up after all. Around us, for some reason, Graf was laying down some plastics and nailing them to the deck of the ship we were in.

"And one… two… three!"

I stood up, supporting the woman who had her arm over my shoulder. Dunkerque was sweating profusely with a pained expression on her face. On her right, Jean Bart worriedly looked at her while supporting her other arm.

"C'mon, Dunkerque, you can do it!"

"I-I don't… don't know, Jeanie… it hurts…"

I looked down. I remembered seeing Dunkerque right after the scuttling, when Deutschland… when Lützow dragged her all the way here. Just bloody stumps wrapped in messy cloth. And now she was wearing some brand new Sardegna-style prosthetics, generously donated to us by that girl with an unnecessarily long name. By the looks of it, getting used to them was no real task.

After a few steps that took what felt like ages, Dunkerque almost tripped and took us with her.

"Dunkerque, what's wrong?"

"Jeanie... I can't…"

"Sir Parzival, one serving of wheelchair here!"

"Comiiiiing!"

U-556 pushed the wheelchair that we had left a few meters back until Dunkerque was able to sit again, panting and wiping the sweat from her forehead. Still, she found it in herself to thank U-556.

"Thanks…."

The little sub stood at attention with a serious expression in her face

"The daring Knight, Parzival of the Seas, presenting to duty!"

It was always impressive to see how much dignity came from someone so small, but she always seemed to melt when she got any sign of recognition, such as me messing with her hair.

"H-Hey, Eugen!"

"Oh? Is some patting too much for a Knight to deal with?"

"No! Definitely not!"

"Then how about our brave knight goes scouting the waters for potential threats?"

"Roger that!"

U-556 ran towards the end of the ship's deck and jumped into the water, doing some acrobatics before sinking below the waterline with her rigging. That girl was always full of energy.

"You are all different from what I had imagined."

That voice was Jean Bart's. It had been a surprise to see the proud, arrogant woman I had heard of mellow down this much. Deutschland probably had something to do with it, she had mentioned how she wanted to set things straight. What had she done to our frenchie here?

"Oh? And what exactly had you expected? Monsters that came to eat your children and take away your croissants?"

"Authoritarianism. Ruthlessness. And on top of it all, I didn't expect a girl as small as that submarine to be the only member of your knight order."

"U-556 is a true warrior of the seas." Graf finished nailing the plastics to the deck and stood up. Sometimes I wondered how she even dared to wear a tank top. Those goods of hers were about to spill out "There is noone in the Ironblood more deserving of respect than her. I hope one day she will assist me in my quest to slaughter the gods."

Jean Bart raised an eyebrow. I chuckled internally, of course it would be a big change for someone of religious background to suddenly hear someone openly state they wanted to kill god. Our Graf was just that special. Dunkerque giggled.

"How do you think Richie would react if she heard this, Jeanie?"

"She would say something boring about everyone's beliefs and such. Jeanne would have a stroke or something, though."

It was strange, to see Jean Bart smile. For the first few days here, all we got out of her were pained gazes while she made her usual rounds from the cafeteria to the ER. Perhaps having people there to forgive her made it easier for her than it had been for me.

"Leaving the Priest aside, I have laid these down for a reason. Fraulein Dunkerque, I have come to assist you in your customisation of your paint job."

Ah, that must have been why Graf requested we meet in this place, the deck of Dunkerque. While the woman herself still had ways to go, we had finished repairing a bit earlier. Probably would have finished days ago if Hipper was around, she was the most skilled mechanic in the Ironblood, but she had gone to the Baltic and all…

"Aiding me? How so?"

"I shall paint your ship in the color you desire. Noone should ever go to war with the gods and the world without proper attire."

Dunkerque looked slightly confused, but even through her sweat and twitching legs, she managed to keep a smile up.

"Thank you, Graf."

"Think nothing of it. You may have proven to be a poor drinking partner, but if your sweets manage to bring a smile to Viersechs's face, then I will forever offer you my help. What color will it be?"

"If I had to think… probably white, and gold for the detailings."

"Those were our colors back in the Orthodoxy." idly mentioned Jean Bart. I remembered hearing something along those lines, but that after switching sides, the Vichiya Dominion had adopted a gold and black theme, departing from the gold and white one from their former allegiance. I also remembered hearing it being due to demands from the Ironblood High Command. I wouldn't put it past them to do so, to be honest.

"Very well."

With a gesture, Graf summoned her rigging, and took out a few… umbrellas?

"I suggest you take these."

I grabbed the one she offered me, opening it. You had to give it to her, she always came prepared in case it rained or something of the like.

"Go!" She launched a few planes from her flight deck, which flew a few times in circles around us in circles like vultures.

"Hey, Graf, what is this?"

"The official designer calls them Junkers Ju 87. But since he is a buffoon, and for convenience's sake, we call them Stukas."

"I think they are more concerned about the reason why your planes are circling us, Graf." I said. I wasn't nervous, not really. After all, Graf was quite possibly the biggest exponent in the world of barking dogs seldom bite. But our french guests didn't seem to have caught the memo.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

I grabbed Jean Bart's shoulder before she had a chance to run away carrying Dunkerque in her arms and put my umbrella over us.

After Graf pointed downward, the stukas came down screaming with the infamous roar that pretty much every european had come to know in the last three years. We couldn't see them from behind the umbrellas, but I recognised the metallic sound of their payloads deploying and a loud bang when they exploded, whatever they were.

"It seems it has all gone right."

I closed my umbrella. Somehow, the entirety of the ship, which had been of a raw metallic color until seconds ago, was fully painted with a delicate white coat, much to everyone's surprise.

"Did… did you use an airstrike?"

"Yes."

"TO PAINT A SHIP?!"

"Indeed." Graf nodded as if it had been nothing. She… wasn't the most normal woman in our fleet, for sure "Just a way of showing my appreciation. Once this coat has set, I will contact Odin for the detailing job, she is far more talented than I am. Now, I am off for my

Schärfung Sonntag."

Graf jumped off the deck of Dunkerque's deck and sped towards the fortress in the distance, leaving me with a confused looking Dunkerque and an exasperated Jean Bart.

"What a bunch of nutjobs… What even is this Scarfing whatever?"

"Schärfung Sonntag." I commented idly "Stands for Sharpening Sunday."

"Sharpening what?"

"Depends on how she is feeling. A month ago it was her AP bombs. Last week was her plane's wings. She may decide to do rockets today."

"Sharpening her… bombs?"

I shrugged "She says it's to destroy the world or something."

I had to admit, seeing the confusion in their faces at Graf's outlandish way of being managed to get a laugh out of me. It had been a while since I last laughed.

"What, is the Ironblood too much for the great Jean Bart and the Templar Knight?"

"Listen here, bucko." Jean pointed her finger at me "I woke up early to come here with Dunkerque to see if we could get some rehab going, and in the span of three hours I have gotten enough sarcasm to make a mime break character, and I have been carpet bombed with white paint. The only positive here has been that submarine girl that…"

In that instant, an explosion ensued next to us in the water, sending U-556 flying towards us, followed by a metallic serpent. One I, unfortunately, knew too well.

"Ah, for fucks sake, what now?!"

"Jeanie, language!"

"I'm tired of this shit, Dunkerque!"

Next to them, U-556 struggled with the machine, who was… playfully licking her all over, leaving streaks of motor oil on the girl with it's metallic tongue, making a sound similar to what a dog would make when meeting their owner, if that dog was made of Kruppstahl and weighed a few tons. U-556 laughed out loud while brawling with the rogue rigging.

"Stop it, Eisen! You'll get my hair all messy!"

"Icing? That thing has a NAME?!"

Before I could answer…

"EUGEEEEEEEEEEEN!"

I was tackled off my feet by a certain unstoppable force. Don't get me wrong, I had tried to resist it before, but Heinrich just had way too much horsepower behind her tackle hugs.

I sighed on the floor with her on top of me. This had become something that happened fairly often. That is, every time either she or I came back from sortieing. And it was honestly becoming a bit of a bother.

"Heinrich, can you just get off of me?"

She showed me her tongue with a pout

"Such a killjoy. Who am I supposed to snuggle with? Lützow doesn't want anyone ever since Spee, Tirpitz always keeps her distance, Odin is a weirdo… and U-556 is being monopolised by Eisen!"

"How is that my problem?"

"I get it, must be a Hipper class thing, to be so reserved… before transferring to Kiel, Mainz always ran away from me with the excuse to have coffee!"

Mainz… That girl was rather unsettling. Actually, half of the girls in this unit were. Odin, Heinrich, and Mainz, but especially the latter, considering how she, supposedly, was my half sister. An Admiral Hipper hull with different armament.

"She ran, always, saying something about coffee, and I couldn't even snuggle a bit, or let her pat Eisen!"

"Leaving that aside, how about you introduce yourself to our guests?"

"Ah, how could I forget!" She faced Dunkerque and Jean Bart, striking one of her 'cute poses'. I swore, her ribbon must be part of her hair and she must be able to control it. No way for it to twitch along with her movements, no way. "P klasse panzerschiffe Prinz Heinrich at your service! I've heard you make great sweets, can I get some?!"

At the sound of those words, Eisen stopped his brawling with U-556 and eagerly poked on Dunkerque's wheelchair with his snout until she got her to stroke it, letting out some pleased mechanical sounds.

"Hehe." giggled Dunkerque "I wouldn't mind making some once we get back to the kitchen."

"Cool! I am sure the others have missed them too, it's been a while since they last saw you."

The rest…. ah… I had almost forgotten that not all Vichiya Dominion girls were still in the ER recovering.

"It's been a while, Dunkerque, Jeanie."

Algerie. Firepower to equal almost any of the Ironblood cruisers, in a hull confined by the Treaty. A mind adept in tactics that had gotten even Odin's praise for her mindgames at the Basilica. If I had to be wary of someone in the Vichiya Dominion, that would be her.

The silence spread through Dunkerque's deck in an awkward pause to Heinrich's and Eisen's antics. I didn' t like those, it made the entire situation feel like a badly written romance novel.

"Aww, a reunion between long-lost friends, how heartwarming…"

"Shut the hell up, ya snake tongued scurvy dog."

Pirate slang as usual. If you asked me, Jean Bart got a bit too into her role at times. Finally, Algerie opened her arms.

"Won't you give your old comrade in arms a good hug, Jean?"

"I ain't a hug person, Algerie. And there's… a lot to talk about."

"We have time for that, later." Said Algerie with a bit of disappointment "You won't be able to escape her, though."

She pointed to some empty spot behind her, making everyone on deck raise their eyebrows. When she noticed, she turned around, sighing and walking to the edge of the deck, staring directly down.

"What are you doing…. I told you… there's no Sister Meeting Protocol…"

"Algerie, is that…"

"Shush, Dunkerque, it's a surprise for Jean! Now you… come up, please?"

After a few more seconds of arguing, another girl came on deck. This one was strange, I didn't remember seeing her before. Greyish hair with a blue strand, and a strange tiara with metallic things pointing upward

The girl walked through the deck until she was right in front of Jean Bart and… just jumped into her arms, much to the pirate's outrage.

"W-What?! Get off me!"

"Analysis: this is the recommended procedure when meeting a sibling."

"I am NOT your sister! Algerie! What kinda weirdo did you pick up along the way?!"

Dunkerque gently pulled on Jean Bart's sleeve "Let the girl introduce herself, Jeanie."

The girl pulled away from Jean Bart. Then, with a monotone, almost robotic voice…

"Introduction, Fourth ship of the Richelieu class of fast battleships, Gascogne. Good day to you, ma sœur."

Jean Bart

It had been a very long day. Very fucking long. It started with the entire rehab stuff. Seeing Dunkerque almost unable to even walk wasn't too good on my conscience. Then, that carrier woman had carpet bombed us with paint. And as if all of that wasn't enough to completely mess my day up, there was this new issue…

The issue being this girl that didn't want to go too far away from me. A girl that claimed to be my sister, somehow, despite only two Richelieu-class battleships ever being launched. I had tried to call Odin to get an explanation, but she was busy with something and didn't answer the radio.

The more I looked at the girl, the less did she look like a sister of mine. Both Richelieu and I had red eyes and hair of different shades of brown, while this girl had yellow eyes with cross pupils that reminded me of Le Malin, and bluish grey hair. She talked like a complete robot. The only reason why anyone would ever believe that we were sisters was because she equipped the same armament as me, though in a different configuration.

Her presence made the room even less comfortable. It was already hard enough to be chill around Deutschland, considering how she all but ran me over when we first met. At least she didn't look in the mood to talk.

The door opened and Tirpitz walked in, carrying a few glasses on a tray, and offered a few ones to me and the rest.

"What's this, alcohol again? I have enough trouble as it is, waiting for the results on Dunkerque's checkup."

"Analysis, water with a high grade of carbonation. Locally named Sprudelwasser."

"I thought you could use a refreshment." said Tirpitz, laying the tray on the table in the middle of the room "A glass of water always helped me clear my mind in Norway, reminded me of home."

"What were you doing up there?"

Tirpitz looked uncomfortable with my question

"The High Command… They called it a fleet in being. I was stuck inside a fjord as an unspoken threat so the Royal Navy can't spread their forces too thin."

"In other words…" Deutschland downed her glass "She is the reason why your sister is still stationed with the Royal Navy. We left a mass produced Tirpitz up there, they can't tell the difference. They are forced to keep someone around just in case 'she' moves."

That… wasn't that different from what little role I had played in the war. Secluded from everything and everyone. It wasn't a situation I would wish anyone to go through.

"Look at you now, surrounded by friends."

Tirpitz let out a bitter chuckle.

"The war has made you grow a sense of humor, Frau Jean Bart. We are fundamentally different despite our similar pasts."

"Enlighten me."

"You are the embodiment of your country's hope." Tirpitz granted me a cold gaze. Not hostile, not of hatred, just cold. "I am a Bismarck-class Battleship. I am a symbol of terror, of fear, my name alone is enough to make the Royal Navy rethink their entire line of operations in the Atlantic."

"And now your compatriots are scared of you, go figure. That's what you get for sticking your cannons in other people's countries."

"I had as much choice in this as you did. Do you really think I chose to be the Lone Queen of the North?"

"Gascogne detects tension in the atmosphere. Probability of a fight breaking up calculated over 73%. Gascogne recommends consuming the cold sparkling water as a means to 'cool down'."

Lützow broke into laughter, making Gascogne tilt her head. Any ill intent in the room dissipated and only made the entire situation unbearably awkward once again.

"Gascogne finds herself in a state of confusion."

Deutschland wiped a tear from her eye "That's not what cooling down means, you idiot!"

Lützow's laugh got so loud that Akashi bamged the wall from the other side, complaining about our racket. Great, now I also had a green cat girl angry at me. As if my day could go any…

"Gascogne proposes a group activity. According to Gascogne's database, questioning one another is the fastest way of building bonds and understanding. As such, Gascogne recommends us to share questions and answer them truthfully."

Ah for fucks sake….

"I… don't think that will work here…"

"Why not, Tirpitz? It's not like any of us has anything to hide anyway. And I bet we all stand to gain a bit from this, don't you think?"

Tirpitz scratched her chin for a few seconds before just nodding silently.

"And what if I refuse?" I said calmly, with a cheeky tone "I don't think yall have any information worth a damn for me."

"Gascogne recommends participating. Considering their background, there is a 94% chance their points of view would be helpful with your situation."

I sighed deeply. I wasn't down for this. I really wasn't. But if the last few hours had been anything to go by, this girl wouldn't let me sleep until I gave in.

"Fine, but let's keep it short. One question per person. And you start, this mess is your fault."

Gascogne faced Lützow "How does anger feel?"

"Well, that came outta nowhere…" Lützow raised an eyebrow "If you know about my records and shit you probably mean that one time… I can't say it too well. It's like you want to do something, or see, hold something, and you just can't. The frustration that comes with it. You just have to… vent it somehow, I guess?"

"Analysis, answer considered adequate. Thank you."

"Since I got asked, my turn next. You, frenchie." She pointed at me "What's the deal with the entire pirate thing? Are you an actress instead of a warship?"

I felt my eyebrow twitching.

"Just my namesake. He was a pirate, a corsair. Do you get your arrogance from your namesake being your own country?"

She whistled "I wonder how long you would have lasted before, when I was still Deutschland."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll take that as your question." She put her boots on the table "We had another Lützow before. Remember that Heinrich mentioned Hipper being in Russia to go look for someone? That is Lützow, they sold her away. And to cover up for that, and in fear that a ship with the name of the fatherland would be sunk, they just changed my name. Just like that."

"Your entire chain of command is a fucking mess."

"Hey." She shrugged "Tell me something new."

"I'll wait until the end for my question, if you all don't mind."

"Acceptable. Gascogne has a question for you though. How does loneliness feel?"

The question apparently felt like a slap to the face to Tirpitz. Those months she spent up there sure must have taken a toll.

"Ah…" she really had hit a nerve "It's a bit like anger, but without the frustration. Impotence, if that makes sense?"

"Adequate. Next is sisterly unit Jean Bart."

I sighed "If ya really are my sister, then I won't bother asking you anything right now. Instead…" I faced Tirpitz "How was she?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My entire purpose was to fight two classes of ships. The Littorio class, and the Bismarck class. I am curious about what the feared Bismarck was like."

"I…. I…. don't think I can answer you."

"Changing rules, are we?"

"I just…" Her shoulders dropped a bit "I never met her. All I know about her comes from U-556."

What?

"You never met your sister?"

"That's why I told you to stop fucking around and make peace with your sister. You don't know how lucky you are."

"This again? You said the same the other day while trying to choke me to death. You know nothing about me."

"Let's see… I know you got to spend time with Richelieu. And that… Gascogne, what was her status again?"

"Mild distress, but otherwise healthy."

"There you have it. Met your sister, and she is alive. That is more than Tirpitz and I can say."

I… honestly had no idea. I mean, who could blame me, isolated from any kind of news on the war. Still…

"Don't pay it much mind. I am not the only girl in the Ironblood that is alone. When I think about Friedrich or Odin, I find some sort of solace in the fact that I at least had a sister."

"I suppose that submarine girl wouldn't tell me about…"

"No."

Short and emphatic. Just 'No'. From both of them at the same time.

"U-556 already takes her promise very seriously. She goes out of her way to keep me safe." said Tirpitz with a downcast voice "I don't want to trouble her anymore."

"The time that girl came towing almost 45 thousand tons of what remained of Bismarck is the only time I have ever seen both Odin and Friedrich left speechless. So yeah, it's an unspoken rule of this unit. Never bring Bismarck up in front of our little Parzival of the Seas."

That girl… had towed a battleship? For thousands of miles? What could her displacement be, 500 tons at most? Had she surfaced the entire time, and towed someone more than eighty times her own displacement, exposing herself?

How?

What drove her to do that?

A member of the Ironblood doing that? The same people that would step over their own soldiers just to take our land?

"Sorry for my answer. For my question, you can keep it to yourself, if you don't feel comfortable but… how is it? Having a sister."

Just after the information on U-556, another bombshell.

"You know, I am interested as well, what exactly do you think now that you are a bit more relaxed?"

My sister.

Where did things stand, exactly?

Richelieu and I were enemies. One part of Iris fighting for the allies, and the other for the axis. But it wasn't that simple.

They had, easily put, betrayed us. Betrayed me. Allied herself with those damn brits after they had attacked us in Mers El Kebir.

And yet… despite all those…

"I really, really want to hate her. I just can't bring myself to do it. If I could forget her warm, caring smiles before the war started, it would all be far easier."

"War's been a bitch for us all, heh." Lützow downed Tirpitz's glass of water without even asking "We may be able to do something for you if we can end this hell for once though."

"Ah, you ain't getting out of this without answering something personal yourself." I said, pointing my glass at Lützow "Every time you open your mouth you have something bad to say about the Ironblood. What's up with that?"

Tirpitz's eyelids rose slightly, nervously looking at Lützow's complicated expression.

"Listen, you don't need to…"

"Nah." She glanced at me from head to toe "It's about time I tell someone my version of the story. Frenchie, do you know of the Battle of River Plate?"

I shook my head. "It happened while I was still in Saint Nazaire, so I've at least heard of it. Not much, just that the Ironblood was defeated."

"That's enough. On one side, Ajax, Achilles and Exeter. And on the other… Admiral Graf Spee."

That name… ah…

"Your sister."

"The one and very same. We got word of the battle in Kiel the same day it started. I requested to be sent more times than I remember. And that man, the Grossadmiral declined every single one of those."

"They didn't allow you to assist your sister?"

"I would have been fine with that, if the Grossadmiral wasn't an incompetent. We intercepted orders from the Royal Navy to assemble what they called Force H. A battlecruiser, a carrier and a bunch of cruisers." Deutschland grabbed my glass now. "No matter how big our guns are or how fast our engine can make us, there's nothing to do when you are THAT outgunned."

"Force H was also the one that stopped Operation Rheinübung. The one that sunk my sister."

"Thing is, Force H couldn't be assembled that soon. But the damage was done. The information got into the chain of command, and next I saw I knew they had issued an order for my sister to scuttle herself."

My throat clenched. This story hit way too close to home for my liking.

"I did the only thing that came to mind. I broke out of the base by blowing up a few ammo reserves and sped through the Atlantic to Uruguay. But I arrived too late."

That wasn't too far away from my own desperate orders back in Casablanca.

"When I arrived she was already… well. You get the idea. But I saw some of the locals trying to break her up for scrap and… something broke inside of me. A switch or something. I just lost it. Now half of Montevideo is a bunch of craters and the other is half burnt."

"Excuse me?"

"It ain't that hard to get." Lützow's face contorted into a pained expression "There's no excuses to be found. I leveled the city, and carried my sister's remains. Halfway through the Atlantic I did run into Force H, but they lost me in a storm. And here I am right now."

"You… destroyed a city."

"Definitely the biggest fuck-up of my life. Uruguay wants my head, and Germany itself is willing to hand it to them. That's why I am here. Odin told me he couldn't promise me revenge, but something better. Curiosity is the only thing that keeps me going at this point."

"No devotion to the Ironblood?"

"Fuck my superiors. And their superiors. And if that God your countrywoman preach to exists, fuck him too. Spee was the sweetest girl. Always asking for hugs, always complaining when I ruffled her hair. Always willing to do her best. The only thing that keeps me where I am right now is the promise Odin made. If there's something better than revenge, I want it."

Lützow reached for the table once again, but the glasses had run out. Even Gascogne's, who had drunk hers herself. Lützow let herself fall back on her chairs, massaging her temples.

"Ah shit, I am starting to sound like Graf. You really should have brought Jagger, Tirpitz."

Author's notes: I am sure you aint interested in excuses for delays, so I'll just leave the chapter here for you to read. A bit of development for the people over at the mirror sea fortress. Jean is still having a few trust issues that can only be solved with a cliched, eye opening heart to heart conversation, but we are getting there.

I wanted to mention something. I know the newest line of PR ships was just announced, and they look awesome (holy shit, Parseval's rigging), but it is due to this recency that they won't be appearing in this fic. Sorry, PR4 fans, there is no spot for them in this fic. If this fic is finished and it gets a sequel, that's anoither thing, but I havent even planned that far yet

As usual, I hope you enjoy this!