The next morning, I woke up in a fantastic mood with calming muted sunlight gushing through the curtains draped over the windows. The room was cool and silent as if it were a moment frozen serenely. I sat up and leaned against the couch behind me, head turning to the right and seeing Monarch still peacefully snoozing in bed. I could almost hear her soft breaths and spent way too long staring at her sleeping profile. Deciding that it was getting creepy, I made to check my timepiece. 0930. I chuckled softly, shaking my head. Shit, that is late. What time did we end up sleeping?

"Morning," a sleepy voice drawled. Too sedated to be startled, I saw Monarch's eyes languidly open, her face still partially covered by the blanket. She looked at me and grinned.

I did the same, looking at her and replying, "Morning. Good sleep?"

"Yep," she exhaled, a hand reaching from under the covers to rub her eye.

We paused and I stared at the TV instead, trying my best not to weird her out already. Although I did still have a question that one might consider weird. "So, about last night." I sniffed and scratched the back of my head awkwardly, unsure of how to pop such a question.

"Mhm?" She hummed cutely, tired eyes and ruffled hair making it clear her systems were still powering up.

"Are we," I stuttered, scrunching my face up in apprehension. Can I just say it like that? Is there supposed to be a process for it? Fuck, I don't know! "Are we…you know," my hands gestured back & forth between the two of us as she furrowed her brows and smirked. "Are we still...friends?"

Monarch giggled. "What? Yes, we are. Are you okay? Do I need to take you to the infirmary?"

"I-"

I tilted my head from side to side and grimaced. Right. Just say it straight up. She's not gonna punch you or anything. I think.

"I mean…are we more than friends?" My heart skipped a beat and I was quickly in overdrive rambling clarifications and backtracks. "It's just because last night, we had this incredible conversation and it was just you and me and we talked about some really personal shit and I decided that I'm in love with you, so here we are." Talk about quick and dirty.

She blinked. "What?"

Fuck. "Okay, okay. I was wondering…"

"Mhm," she hummed. "Just let it roll off the tongue, Ed."

"…I was wondering if we could maybe…start a relationship. Question mark?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What d'you mean a 'relationship?' As in a relationship relationship?"

Okay, she completely missed that love part. Good. I think? I pivoted the statement in my head before agreeing with her implication. "Yeah. A relationship…relationship."

To my relief, Monarch laughed softly and rolled over onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. "I…think I'd like that," she grinned. Her cheeks were about as flushed as mine, and I couldn't help a smile of my own.

The same warm feeling from last night washed over me like a wave and I couldn't keep the elation to myself. I pumped my fist in the air and softly declared, "Yuss!"

Monarch giggled when she heard me and lay on her side once again, pulling some of the sheets over herself. "Anyway," she yawned. "I think I'll lie in a little longer. Wake me up in an hour."

An hour?! "Whoa, okay," I said sitting up and throwing the covers off me. "Get up, c'mon." I stood from my bed and walked over, crouching down next to her. Gently, I poked a finger where I thought her body would be. She flinched and I could hear a stifled snicker from under the blanket. Gotcha.

"Oy!" I laughingly coaxed. "Seriously, we're already an hour late. We have a lot of shit to do, c'mon." I poked playfully once more at the same spot.

"Hnnngh," she grumbled. "Fine, twenty minutes."

"How about zero minutes?" I retorted. "Seriously, let's go, hey!"

What's gotten into you? I suspect that she was acting lazy more out of cheekiness than anything else. Unfortunately for her, she doesn't know what she's getting herself into. Knowing full well that this is likely bait, I decided to take it and see what happens. "Alright, that's it," I said letting her know this would be her ultimatum. "If you refuse to get up…"

At last, she showed her face and lay on her back. Hook, line, and sinker. "What," she challenged.

"…I'm gonna get on top of you until you do." I finished with a dead serious look on my face.

The playfulness in her expression died instantly, but her voice seemed to coax me on. "You wouldn't."

I sighed theatrically. "Alright, here we go."

"No, no, nonononono-!"

Before she could do anything, I lay on top of her, hugging her over the blanket with my head on her chest, eyes shut. "Wow, this is a really soft pillow," I quipped.

"McConnell," Her voice was now much more alert as she fought to stifle her snicker. Looks like it worked. "Ed, get off of me-"

Emulating her grumbling from just minutes before, I insisted, "Only when you get up."

"Alright, fine! I'll get up," she laughed. "I yield! What else do you want me to say?"

I snickered under my breath, satisfied that one of the oldest tricks in the book succeeded yet again. The Paperweight Gambit had a chance to backfire on you, hard. But, when executed on the right person and at just the right timing, it could wake up the most lethargic of 'non-morning people.' Just as I motioned to get off her, the door to my left opened. I felt Monarch's body stiffen under me and I fought the urge to start ugly-laughing right then & there.

"Kommandant- Agh!" Zed's shocked voice echoed through the room. "E-es tut mir leid! I walked into something! So sorry!"

Monarch scrambled to reply, "No, wait, this isn't-" But the door shut once more before another word could be uttered. I felt her chest heave up and down as she sighed heavily. "McConnell."

"I think we both learned a valuable lesson here," I quipped snappily.

"…Yep," she conceded defeatedly.

Chuckling, I finally dismounted.

She sat up and rubbed any more straggling sleep from her eyes. A hand ran through her disheveled hair and she smoothed out her shirt. Then, we both looked at each other and started giggling.

"Okay, work?" I asked when we calmed down.

"Work," she confirmed.

Later, it was found out that the reason Z23 had peeped out the door was that she was looking for breakfast. Gloucester had arrived earlier that morning, but seeing I was still asleep, she decided it would be best to come back later. When asked why she didn't simply leave the meal trays for Zed and her companions behind, the maid explained that she assumed they would be asleep as well, promptly apologized, and solemnly swore to never repeat it again.

With that debacle out of the way, fully dressed, wide awake, and stomachs happy, Monarch and I got our day started. She left to run her usual errands and duties with Enterprise and the gang while I was left in the suite churning away at papers and documentation. I came across the as-yet unsubmitted decision file.

Opening it, Monarch's details were neatly filled in the cells and fields. It had my recommendation already typed out and good to go, proofread and proofread again five times over. Ever since her first exercise, I had the Trackers running telemetrically on every exercise conducted in these waters at Theodore's request. Among the more consistent top performers was our favorite battleship.

Assessing that her profile and technical statistics were more than up to par, I ticked off all the relevant boxes but left the confirmation field open per SOP. The last step is a PsychEval and Admiral Theodore and Price's signatures, and the transfer would be officiated. Satisfied, I saved the doc and moved on down the to-do list, scrolling through tasks that were yet to be accomplished.

My hand reached for the coffee mug close by when the phone rang. The caller ID registered Enterprise. Swiping, I opened the connection.

"Sir?" A hurried voice from the other end said.

"Enterprise?" I said, "What's up? You sound like you're in a rush."

"Yeah, that's because I am," the carrier replied. "Where's Monarch?"

"Uhh…" I grumbled, scratching my head and trying to think. "I don't know, I thought she was with you?"

"Well, yeah she was, but that was earlier this morning. We split up and agreed to meet back at the docks for a routine exercise at 1400." The carrier paused to catch a breath. "Well, it's 1338 and she's not here!" Enterprise explained worriedly.

I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips. "Oh."

"Yeah. Al and Javelin are already out looking for her, but I was wondering if you could help us?"

My eyes perused the task list, looking for something particularly urgent. Nothing popped out as something that needed taking care of right now, so I shrugged. "Yeah, I got time. I'll bring her to you when I find her."

"Sure. Thanks, sir!"

"No problem."

As the connection cut, I was up on my feet and out the door. Why don't you just send planes to look for her? That's not illegal, is it? I shrugged and ran for the elevator. Where do I even start?

By an astronomical stroke of luck, I found Monarch eating with George at an outdoor café overlooking the sea from a high wall. A smile played across my face as I approached the two in friendly conversation with each other. George was leading the exchange, laughing heartily at some anecdote she was sharing. It didn't take long for her to calm herself down and notice me walking up to them. She grinned and waved a hand high to make absolutely certain I wouldn't miss it. Chuckling to myself, I stopped in front of them.

"Well, this is nice!" I commented looking at the smoothies and nodding approvingly. "Good old bonding time, I like it. That's how it's done."

George smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "It took some convincing, but I was able to coerce my dear sister here into a quick break."

"I now realize that it is just what I need every now and then," Monarch agreed, sipping from her glass.

"Of course!" George declared. "Anyhow, what brings you here, commander? Care to join us?"

I held my hands up. "Ah, well I'd love to but I'm not really that hungry right now," I replied, "There is work to be done, and more pertinent to why I'm here…" I looked pointedly at the redhead, who cocked a brow in response. "…Enterprise is looking for you. You guys agreed to have an exercise at two?"

She abruptly lowered her glass and her eyes widened. "Ah, shit! Right! That completely slipped past me. Apologies, I've apparently got an exercise. I'll pay you back later-"

"Pah," George waved nonchalantly. "I thank you for joining me, no need to apologize. Go on then, that sounds important."

Monarch grinned and nodded. "Thank you."

The elder sister winked and smirked at her. "I'll be cheering for you from here."

"Right," Monarch said before nodding at me. "Let's go?"

"Yep," I raised my watch. "You're already ten minutes late. I gotta call Enterprise up. Nice seeing you, George!"

"Mhm. See you later, George!" Monarch echoed.

"See you," the blonde waved and giggled as the two of us hurried to the docks.

When we got there, time was not wasted on pleasantries and formalities, the action getting right underway. I was stationed off the battleground as usual for very good reason. Large battleship-grade shells weren't something I could hope to survive direct contact with. Accompanying me in a high-up observation tower were techs milling about to ensure the smooth & steady operation of the trackers and monitoring equipment while four other observers had special macrobinoculars for a direct close-up visual of the exercise goings-on.

A lot more refined than the old days, I chuckled to myself. There was a point in time when an exercise was merely a bunch of plucky folks who had a score to settle and a nice clearing of open water a safe distance from any land to settle it on. We also used to need the CO there at all times because observers were, for lack of a better word, nonexistent. Without the necessary hardware to monitor and referee, the commanding officer and a refereeing shipgirl were the only ones that could verify competitive integrity. This was largely because only a select few personnel at the time knew how a shipgirl operated in the first place.

Now, it's a different story. A shipgirl could be walking on the sidewalk and no one would bat an eye so long as rigging wasn't involved. There'd be the occasional admirers and…horny teenagers…but the sight of walking talking warships personified became pretty much commonplace in societies around the Union and the Isles.

That meant everyone knew what and who they were. You'd have to be living under a boulder not to. And with more minds cracking down on the issue, more solutions were quickly rolled out. One of the said solutions involved the near-full automation of exercise proceedings. I say near-full because a field referee was still required. When I came along, we introduced the DEMOStech, and here we are now.

This is only the second exercise under my direct observation throughout the entire duration of my mission here. Though I was inclined to observe the action, I decided there were more pressing matters on my plate, dividing attention with wandering thoughts. Primarily, it focused on the ticking clock that incessantly yammered at the back of my mind. When will they strike?

Bismarck has been largely silent, even Parsival only coming out of the room to hang with Christopher on very rare occasions. The treatment dictated we stick to what we know and what we could know, and right now, all extrapolation pointed to an attack on Tuesday. No, not next Tuesday. I was ninety percent sure it would be threeish days from now Tuesday. This isn't a lot of time, and I could set up an action plan with Theodore and the others right now if we could only fill the gaps in our data set. What the Kriegsmarine would send is a question still taunting us from a range just barely out of our reach. It is verifiably infuriating.

"Commander McConnell?" An officer said beside me, prompting a pause in my train of thought?

"Yeah?" I looked around and saw a man holding a tablet, standing smartly with purpose. "What's up?"

"Sir," he walked over handing me the device. "A packet from Duke of York's squadron."

I accepted the report and began skimming through it when a clause made me freeze in place.

The officer summarized it out loud as I read, "Some three hours ago, a sizeable German task force consisting an unknown number of unidentified mass-produced ships and a sighting of whom satellite imagery has confirmed to be Prinz Eugen accompanied by one or two other cruisers or destroyers, has been spotted."

"Shit," I whispered under my breath. The paragraph wasn't done, and neither was the officer.

"The formation, York reports, is being flagged by an aircraft carrier. They want to say it's the Graf Zeppelin or the Peter Strasser, but…"

The man trailed off and I looked at him with a raised brow.

"…Imaging suggests otherwise. She's brand new."

Well. I nodded my head, satisfied that we at least had more information to work with. An endpoint in sight, I formulated the beginnings of an action plan in my head.

"Does Admiral Theodore know about this?" I asked him.

"Yes, sir, he's been informed. It's your call moving forward," he reported.

"Cool. Tell him to tell everyone that there'll be a party in the situation room later at-" What time is it? "-1500 hours. This is level five, full resource protocol."

"Aye, sir."

"Alright. Thank you."

He nodded and was off on his way.

I stared out the glass walls at the exercise below, crossing my arms over my chest as the system prompted the winner.

EXERCISE OVER.

EDS_ANGELS WIN.

…The what? I looked at the observer to my left, tapping her on the shoulder. "What did the DEMO just call them?"

The woman snickered. "They called themselves Ed's Angels, commander. Said it would 'tick you off.'"

"Oh I hate them so much," I spat sarcastically, prompting a quick chuckle.

"You guys have a fantastic relationship, sir," she said.

Still laughing softly, I smiled fondly at the group. Allen high-fived Downes like always and Monarch and Enterprise exchanged cool and collected fist bumps. "Yeah, well, I try to take care of them."

"Mm," she hummed. "That must be applauded. Not a lot of officers around here are so lax all the time."

Before I could respond, she gathered her folders and bade me farewell, saying she had to rush to get her observer's report in.

Maybe that does call for a little pat on the back. I'll ask Monarch to do it later. In the meantime, I shook my head into the game once more. The briefing of our lives.

At three o'clock sharp, we were gathered in the situation room around a giant three-dimensional map projected onto a table before us. Theodore and George were looking contemplative, Warspite's expression was rather dire as was Elizabeth's, Enterprise and Cleveland were simply waiting patiently for the meeting to begin, and Monarch stood with Wales and Howe in deep thought. Illustrious, Formidable, and Victorious decided to follow in Enterprise's footsteps, deciding to simply sit & wait patiently for the proceedings to commence.

I was at the end of the table directly opposite Theodore and across from the door, scanning over scores of notes and documents including Duke of York's sighting with image documentation, preparing the flow of the briefing. Satisfied that I wouldn't freeze up at a difficult question, I clapped my hands to get everyone's attention. There was no hush, as the room was already deathly silent beforehand. Clearing my throat, I began.

"Alright. Good to see no one was late, although we have some folks who couldn't attend. We can just fill them in later." I tapped some buttons to bring a photo scanned copy of York's report to the center of the screen, briefly overlaying the map. "We're here to discuss the beginning of the end of this little saga. Duke of York has reported a massive bandit task force heading our way to this fair port. Further reconnaissance has confirmed it is joint-Siren, though these are limited to mass-produced units and basic troops. Purifier will not be joining us," I quipped dryly earning grim chuckles from the group. "These are the shipgirls who will be," I said.

Now, a number of IDs floated before everyone, containing face shots of the individuals concerned and basic biodata, statistics last measured, and all that jazz. "We have heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen who we now know somehow escaped back to Wilhelmshaven," I enumerated, "Her sister, Admiral Hipper, the newly-minted Roon, destroyers Z1, 2, 28, and 36, light cruisers Nürnberg and Leipzig, and what may be battleships Gneisenau and Scharnhorst."

Concerned looks and hardened expressions across the board as hushed chatter rose and speculation ran its course.

"I know," I nodded. "Pretty stacked. But we have data. We have numbers, we have wits, we have guns, and we have experience with almost every single one of them." I said confidently, earning looks of surprise from some and one of approval from Monarch. "What has me worried is their flag."

The mood dove back down to earth.

"We've tried to take images, match with any archive file we have, reference what we could." I shook my head disappointedly. "Turned up nothing. Whatever she is, she's brand new. The only thing we confirmed for certain is that she has a flight deck, and her design may be something similar to the Graf Zeppelin, meaning-"

"She's a blueprint carrier," Enterprise butt in, causing eyes to dart her direction.

I decided to let it slide. "Yes. Likely to be screened by the two battleships."

The esteemed 'Grey Ghost' shrugged. "Doesn't sound too bad to me. It's one carrier."

I gave her a stern look. "The last time we said, 'it's just one ship,' we almost got ripped apart. Let's not repeat Bermuda."

Enterprise grimaced and nodded, conceding. "Right, right. Gotcha."

Theodore looked confused. "What the hell happened in Bermuda? No, never mind, not relevant."

"We outnumber them, but that doesn't guarantee a win, it only increases our chances. Scharnhorst and Gneisenau have a pretty hot rep."

Cleveland whistled. "Have you guys heard the rumors?"

"Exactly, but don't worry, it's just a matter of containing and neutralizing them. Which brings me to our plan," my fingers flew over the keypad of the map, making the IDs vanish and bringing the birds' eye view back onto center stage. Numerous blips, blue and red, flickered into positions around the port, with three more friendly ships curiously outside the hotzone, piquing the interest of the attendees.

Wales got the words out first. Pointing at the extraneous spheres, she asked, "Who are those, commander?"

"Ah!" I grinned deviously at her. "Duke of York's squadron. We checked in a few minutes ago, and she'll be in range to provide flanking fire support very soon, lining up with the projected execute timing for the Ironbloods. Translation? She'll be right behind them, and they won't even know it."

The blonde laughed, nodding her head. "Alright. That sounds perfect."

"It is. Ark Royal and…uhh…Admiral, who's the other cruiser that's with them?" I asked, the name escaping me.

"You're thinking of Neptune. The other one of our two blueprint ships so far," the man supplied.

"Right," I snapped my fingers. "There, Neptune. So the firepower behind can be very helpful for the firepower ahead. It'll be a nice pincer, so long as the Ironbloods are funneled in and they don't spot York's force moving up."

Everyone nodded, acknowledging the advice.

"Anyway, here's our default." I keyed labels and callouts for the various positions, showing where everyone would be and when at any given moment. I liked to plan battles to the letter when I could. "We go from this one division into three defense groups to systematically burn through those MP units and get us to the meat & potatoes of our fight. Teams go from one to three."

"Just a numbered system?" Howe asked.

"I don't want alpha-beta jokes floating around comms again." I stared daggers at Enterprise who only chuckled nervously and scratched the back of her head. Howe and George looked at the carrier curiously while I proceeded with my explanation. "These groups will then be split into squads. As you can see, your operating routes should put you right in the perfect spots to coalesce and really put multipronged pressure on our German friends when we get the cannon fodder out of the way."

George now raised her hand. "Commander. Forgive me, but do you have a plan should the number of mass-produced ships exceed our projections?"

"Our contingency will be Perseus' air groups being held in reserve linking up with Ark's from behind. Then, we can see all the way to the very back of the lines, hopefully, give us a clear end goal should that happen," I replied.

"But what of mirror seas?" Illustrious inquired. "Sometimes, the battles we fight defy all conventions of practical mechanics."

"That is true, yeah," I nodded pausing to think. A fleeting thought ran through my mind, echoes of a deeply classified project. "Admiral? How are the M.S.D's coming along?"

The man took on an incredulous look. "The mir-? McConnell, those are still decades from deployment condition."

"Alright, alright," I shrugged. "Worth a shot. A mirror sea is honestly our worst-case scenario. I don't fully understand how it works just yet, so in that case, we'll need to put in more elbow grease. But I doubt we'll see one used here."

"Why's that?" Monarch piped up.

"Try to look back at old after-action reports in the database. Mirror seas require a certain amount of space to operate fully. We're kinda almost smack-dab face to face with the other side of the English Channel. Plus, even if one were deployed, given our timeframe and their mission objective, as well as the circumstances of said deployment, it wouldn't be so devastating to begin with. Our worst-case scenario is still manageable so long as everyone does their jobs. Bueno?"

"Aye, sir!"

"Now," I continued, sobering the mood back down and lapsing us back into monologue mode. "I wish I could say that that's the whole plan, and we can get some rest and gear up from here. But that unknown carrier is seriously concerning." Enterprise looked at me, nodding reluctantly. For however many accolades one may achieve in wartime, you're never impregnable. Twice the pride, double the fall. "We're dealing with an oh-eight-four if you will. We don't what or who we're dealing with. The best we have is a suggested link to the Graf Zeppelin-class. Other than that, we're in the dark."

The whole group nodded grimly.

"We need to be ready for anything. So-"

Before I could finish, the doors behind Theodore swung open, startling the living daylights out of the man. Through said doors barged in the one person perhaps least expected to be there. The admiral stepped aside to reveal Bismarck, proudly clad in uniform with a very serious look on her face.

Everyone seemed to recoil from the Ironblood leader, while I stepped away from the controls, my face displaying a more passive approach. Before either of us could say anything to the other, a breathless Edinburgh came staggering in behind the battleship, clearly having given chase all the way from the hotel to the building.

"I-!" The cruiser hastily began, "I'm so, so sorry, Commander McConnell! She-"

I held up a hand and cut her off gently. "Edinburgh? It's fine. You can step you want to."

Her eyes widened and her lips seemed to zip at that very moment. "R-right," she stammered. "I shall…be outside should you need something." Before we knew it, the doors were shut.

Though everyone else remained in the room, they all seemed to relegate themselves to the backseat for now, leaving me and Bismarck to talk one-on-one. This time, she started. "I am not here to appeal to your humanity, though I don't think that would be necessary regardless." Her tone wasn't pained as it was back at the interrogation room. No, there's something else there. "I am here to thank you first. For keeping me virtually locked in that room of yours. Contrary to my belief, it was exactly what I needed."

"How so?" I asked patiently, not wanting to seem too friendly, but not wanting to be hostile either. This could be the big break.

"While I was in there, I…I got to spend a very healthy amount of time with Parsival and Zed for the first time in…" She shook her head and waved a hand helplessly. "…Gott, I can't even remember when. That helped me figure out what I had been fighting for, and how I should have been fighting for it."

Everyone looked at her curiously.

"When you make a deal with the devil, you must be well-acquainted with the terms, and similarly ready for the bill," Bismarck said. "I was neither." The pride of the Kriegsmarine looked around the chamber.

"I have strung a severe and continuous sequence of errors in the long years since we broke off from Azur Lane. I am here because I should like to correct the errors that haven't already become mistakes." Her grey eyes fell on me. In them, gone was the tiredness. Now, a steely determination. The kind only a leader could've had in them. "If you all would allow me."

Theodore spoke before I could. "Does…this mean we have a treaty?"

Bismarck looked at him pointedly. "This means you have an armistice with the ships I brought with me here. As for myself, this means you have my cooperation. You have my guarantee, and my solemn swear to help you deal with whatever task force my fleet sends. It is…my responsibility."

Hm.

Theodore looked at me and shrugged. "Alright, commander. It's your call."

In the back of my mind, I knew there was a chance that this was an act. That since the counterattacking force was getting close, she was able to establish comms with them somehow, maybe an on-person transmitter. It was possible, then, that they prearranged a plan for her surgical extraction from the hotel and a great escape would be underway.

Seeming to have read my mind, Bismarck sighed dejectedly, staring down at the floor. "You have no reason to trust me. Maybe you shouldn't after all, and I'm clutching at straws thinking you would."

Weirdly emotional appeal there. I was about to raise red flags, but then she continued.

"Unfortunately, that's all I can give you. For as long as I am here, and the Siren are out there, I have nothing but my word. I am willing to wager it for a second chance."

Dammit. Alright, deep breaths.

I could feel everyone's eyes fall on me at the same time, confirming that Bismarck's cards were now laid out and the ball was very much in my court.

People liked to say that I was a good judge of character a lot of the time. I even once had an investigator say she'd rather have me than a polygraph because I'd be more reliable. But I always doubted myself. People are complicated. Emotions are incalculable, words not infallible. Bismarck could be making an empty promise here, and the smart and ultimately correct move would be to put her and her accomplices in some secure holding location and not let her out until this whole thing blew over. But then, there are two points arguing the opposition to that.

One, if she had the missing piece of our puzzle, that being the mystery carrier, we could potentially avoid having to extrapolate variables to complete our equation, therefore generating a far more adaptable battle plan.

Two?

I looked her in the eyes and tried to see past any potential façade. Maybe now, I'm the one grasping at loose threads to do so. Maybe there isn't one. I chuckled softly to myself. Point two…gut feeling.

Theodore's sermon echoed in my head. 'Gut feeling? A Spider-tingle?'

My plan was based on good conjecture then. But now, this was really just a gut feeling. I looked at Monarch because I had nowhere else to look. She graced me with a reassuring smile. Somehow, that was all I needed.

"Alright," I sighed. "Let's give it a shot."

Looks of skepticism, especially between George and Theodore, cascaded among the group, but no one raised an argument.

Bismarck, for her part, didn't look relieved as much as she looked even more spurred on than she had prior. I had one more thing to say before she could respond, though.

"This is a big leap of faith." I gestured to everyone in the room, quieting them down. "For all of us here. I generally like to know where we'll land, but I don't right now. Frankly, I don't think I can. But let's both hope," I said pointing at my chest then at Bismarck, "That we land somewhere no one gets hurt. For both our sakes. That clear?"

Bismarck nodded promptly. "Jawohl…" To everyone's astonishment, she finished, "Herr Kommandant."

I retained my poker face but nodded regardless. "Good start."

"What do you need help with?" The battleship inquired if not with a little challenge.

Seeing the opportunity present itself, I seized it before it could get away. Keying the images of the unknown carrier onscreen, I said, "Do you know anything about that?"

Bismarck furrowed a brow, stroking her chin as she walked closer to examine the picture. "It…is a carrier?" She postulated uncertainly.

I narrowed my eyes, stifling a snicker. "Yes. A carrier that Duke of York, one of the best spotters we have, mistook for Peter Strasser."

At that, her eyes widened with realization. "Oh, Scheiße…"

"Why?" I frowned. "What's the word?"

"Right, yes." She shook her head and waved a hand. "I recognize that design. That…is one of the latest from our B-SEP," she explained slowly, her eyes scouring all of the two images we could capture.

The what? "B-SEP? What's that?"

"Das Blueprint-Schiffsentwicklungsprogramm. The Blueprint Ship Development Program. We've had three batches thus far, and-"

"Sorry," Theodore interrupted. "You've had three batches?"

Bismarck looked at the admiral and nodded. "Ja."

"Intelligence only confirmed the cruiser, Roon," he mused. "Who are the others?"

She eyed him calculatingly, running her options by when she decided on a course of action. "I will only disclose on a need-to-know basis, Admiral. With all due respect, of course," she added looking between him and me. I inclined my head, not seeing any problem with the proposition. "Right now, it looks to me that you need to know about this carrier. So, that is all I will divulge. This carrier…"

I stealthily hit a button to record audio from the room, saving whatever information she would provide us for a card later.

"…Is a design based on the Graf Zeppelin-class. This may explain why your spotter misconstrued the two. She's designed big and fast. Her name…" Bismarck paused seemingly for dramatic effect, "…is August von Parseval."

"Ah," I said unceremoniously. "That'll get confusing." Parseval, Parsival…

"It's in the pronunciation," Bismarck supplied simply, tracking back to task. "Regardless, she will be a threat to whatever plans you may have laid out, being a completely new vessel and only seen prior on paper as a concept."

"August von Parseval, huh," Cleveland mumbled the name quietly.

"Well, it's one unpredictable carrier surrounded by a group of friends. You all have firepower and numbers. Surely, you can handle her!" Queen Elizabeth blurted. At that, I wondered internally what the Royal Navy's chain of command was. If admirals and officers ran operations for the Navy, what is it exactly Elizabeth does? Maybe a good question better saved for later.

Warspite looked mildly concerned at her liege's pseudo-interruption but couldn't get a word in edgeways. As she did her best to quiet Elizabeth down a tad, I gave them a tight grin. "I appreciate the confidence, but it may be a bit misplaced here." Murmurs of acknowledgment and silent agreement rose as everyone else nodded.

So far, my only personal firsthand experience with a 'blueprint ship' was with Monarch. And if what she was capable of on the waters was any indication, we'd need to completely reshuffle our strategy around what August could be capable of.

Okay. "Bismarck," I said. All eyes fell on me once more. "What can you tell me about Parseval? Strengths, weaknesses, abilities…"

She shook her head and grimaced. "Unfortunately, her rig was barely finished when I departed for our little maneuver. I am actually surprised myself to see her out on the water so soon."

Literally fresh off the press. "Alright, that puts a wrench in our plans."

"Why, commander?" Warspite inquired. "Yes, she may be a formidable carrier, but surely nothing that can fundamentally alter battlefield conditions. If she does have such power, then…we may already be too far gone."

I looked at her as gears in my head started turning. Unfortunately, she took it as a warning sign that she'd overstepped, frantically backtracking on her statement. "Ah! My apologies, I didn't mean it to sound so grave. Perhaps if we-"

"No, no," I shook my head. "You're right. I'd be willing to hedge my bets on it that you're right. And in that case…"

Ohh, shit.

I looked at Enterprise and Cleveland, a thin smirk playing on my face.

"Commander?" "What are you thinking now?"

"Kensington Protocol," I said simply.

The two of them looked shocked, to say the least.

"No way." "Sir, the-"

"-The last time we tried that," I finished the sentence for her, "We ended up okay. It's the only option we have. Unless we roll a dice on the one combat scenario that we can counter-strategize flawlessly. The thing is, we run the risk of being systematically dismantled if we gamble wrong. Run the numbers. With something as volatile as this, where we don't even know what the rig on her looks like?" I was reminded bleakly of the discussion I had with Bismarck during her interrogation. Advanced sentience anomalies.

The two of them exchanged concerned glances, whispering to each other unintelligibly. I couldn't hear, nor I assume could anyone else. The rest were all looking at the three of us curiously, no doubt wondering what Kensington Protocol meant. At last, Cleveland sighed and nodded as Enterprise stood up straight once again.

"Yeah," the light cruiser said.

Enterprise said, "I guess we're doing that, then. But what's our baseline? Kensington still needs a model."

I nodded, "Right, yeah. Okay, so-"

Monarch cut in before I could go further. "Hang on a minute. What is 'Kensington Protocol?'"

Pointing at her, I replied, "I was just getting to that. Our battle plan will be KP, meaning we won't have a battle plan."

"What?!"

"Okay, okay, that sounded weird, just listen for now. We can stick to our default from earlier, but with adjustments. First, no more rigid positioning. Just stay roughly in your operating radii. I need people ready to rotate in and out on a dime. Be like water. I trust all of you to be coordinated enough to do this. Needless to say, this is a rigging-based battle so you can stay agile and flexible. Understood?"

"...Aye, sir."

"Our play is a little different. We'll let them push for the contact." I shuffled the group tags on the map, overlapping ranges and providing clear designated choke points. "Wipe the MP's, use cover from Ark when she gets in range. Stay alert. Remember, this isn't a supremacy force, despite being as large as it is." I placed an objective marker on the base. "This is a rescue. Don't let them get to Bismarck. Speaking of," I looked at the sole German in the room, concocting a plan on the spot. "Admiral, Bismarck, for a moment."

When we had gathered at the head of the table, facing away from everyone else so they couldn't hear, Theodore asked in a hushed voice, "Yes, Commander? Is there a reason for the sudden secrecy?"

"Yes. I don't want anyone else to know, and there might be a listening device around here somewhere." I could see the Admiral about to dismiss that concern as something out of an over-the-top action film, and swiftly addressed it. "Sir, we both understand the risk of an Ironblood informant trying to find a way for their task force to get their mitts on her. Better safe than sorry." He narrowed his eyes and held my gaze for a moment longer, shrugged, and allowed me to continue. "I'm wondering about where we should put her," I explained pointing at Bismarck.

"What do you mean? Wouldn't a holding cell be enough-"

"No, sir, think," I retorted. "An Ironblood extraction team would expect Bismarck in a holding cell. I'm thinking she can stay hunkered down in the armory. It's literally underground and crawling with officers and personnel. Plus, it's out of the way of the holding cells, practically on the opposite side of the facility. Double plus, there aren't any more entryways from the outside save for ventilation shafts. If we can keep her there..."

"...We can just station guards on a post, keep an eye on her, and dupe a rescue party at the same time," Theodore nodded catching onto my plans. "Alright. I like it. We'll clear out a corner in the main area."

"Sweet. You good with staying there?" I asked the battleship.

Bismarck nodded. "Not that it would've been an option, of course."

"Alright, cool. Let's get back to the rest of them."

They nodded and dispersed back to where they were earlier.

I began to address the curious group with a nod and a quick explanation. "We were just wondering how her breakfast was. Good to know the eggs weren't overcooked."

Although they looked a little confused, Enterprise was quick to catch on, whispering to Cleveland, "He's just speaking code. We're not allowed to know."

The cruiser, understanding, nodded and passed the message on in a similar low-profile tone. That sequence repeated until everyone was filled in, acknowledging with affirmative gestures of their own.

"What about her posse?" Cleveland asked, restarting the exchange. "Do we let 'em join in the fun?"

"No," I replied instantly, catching some people off guard. "Hard no. We're gonna keep them somewhere in the hotel with a security detail on watch. If we let them out, best case scenario, they hesitate. Worst case scenario, they…" Monarch cocked an eyebrow. "…Yeah. You know the worst case." I clapped my hands to refocus everyone. "Now, our objective is direct. Stun them and bring them in warm. Dead bodies aren't very useful."

"That August von Parseval, however," George said. "Are you sure we can even attempt nonlethal measures?" She held up her hands before a point could be raised against her. "No grudge here. Just a genuine talking point. We don't even know what makes her tick."

"She raises a valid concern, commander," Wales agreed.

"Yes," Monarch added. "We can probably improvise a way to incapacitate the others. But if this one is as gobsmacking as we're projecting her to be, then…"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I see where you're coming from."

A kill order may just be necessary. Trying to go otherwise could be asking too much at that point. I just hope that Bismarck won't mind if…

…

"Wait," I snapped my fingers as pieces clicked into place. Sentient rigging. Altered mechanics. An extraction unit. "Okay. Leave that bit to me. I'll assess battlefield conditions and then we can decide what to do with August von Parseval."

Though it wasn't the answer they might have been hoping to hear, it was the one they got, and they seemed willing enough to accept it. Hesitant acknowledgments were enough for me.

"Alright, then. Here are the defense groups. I looked around at the timetables for everyone available to us. Fortunately, though it knocks a lot of folks out, we should still have enough to work with." A list of names separated into columns floated up, everyone finally coming closer again to get a better read. "Team 1, flagged by Monarch. You guys are on fire support and auxiliary. If someone's making the early rotation, then it's one of you. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Team 2, George will be flagging, Sheffield's taking point. You're getting your hands dirty, shepherding them into choke points. Just remember not to overdo it."

"Sorry," Theodore cut in before I could continue. "McConnell, as much as I'd like to believe these formations will pan out, those Ironbloods are still out for…" He shot glances at all of us. "They'll be shooting to kill. Scharnhorst and Gneisenau especially, those two have a reputation to uphold."

"Which is why we're on a clock," I said. "Team 3, you're suppression. Enterprise is flagging. Keep them down, but not out."

Keying the map on, I addressed Theodore's valid concern. "Remember, they're not here to take the port, they're here to get Bismarck back. So, we fight long enough for them to think we're distracted. When that happens, their extraction team, whoever that may be, is drawn out. We can take them in the middle of the act."

"Right, so you'll need someone in reserve watching," Monarch surmised after an awkward silence. "For their extraction team."

"Yeah," I inclined my head. "Unfortunately, everyone will be out there to maximize the firepower output. I don't wanna cut corners. Perseus is the only reserve we have, and I want her around primarily for medical..."

"What are you suggesting, commander?" Enterprise narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

I looked at Theodore. "I think the best we can do is call in some ground troops, get ready to evacuate civilians within a set radius, and put this base on lockdown. Can we do that, sir?"

He shook his head and sighed uncertainly. "I don't know. Maybe I can ask for a squad."

"It's for the defense of an important British port against a major German force, plus an alliance with the Ironblood on the line. I'm sure they'll spring for it," I said.

"Let's hope they do," Theodore countered. "But they've been rather...difficult to work with lately. In the case they don't?"

…Yeah. I already had a backup plan in mind, but I wasn't about to divulge it here. No one's gonna like that contingency. "I'll," I paused hesitantly. "...Figure it out."

"See to it that you do. Whoever's watching for that team has the rest of the operation on their shoulders."

"Yes, sir."

A very tense silence was left hanging in the air. People either kept murmurings to themselves, stared at the tactical map of the battle scenario up & down to get to grips with it, and Howe had produced a little notepad, jotting down whatever she happened to be.

"Alright," I said, calling attention back to me one final time. "We have a plan, an objective, and an end goal. Keep Bismarck secure here, cripple their force, and bring them in too. You know your positions, your teams, and your tasks." I nodded reassuringly at each of them. "This is the start of something new. Rest up. Cool down. Calm yourselves a little bit. We have three days before the expected strike. I know you'll all use it well. Fill the absentees in, make sure they're up to speed. If you have any questions, just approach me and ask. Now's not the time to be shy. The floor's open."

It seemed that however convoluted the flow of conversation may have been for the duration of our briefing, they'd gotten the gist of it.

"Good. Proceed business as usual. If those Ironbloods are running recon, we don't wanna be tipping them off. You're dismissed."

As everyone filed out the room, the screaming train of thought in my head grinding in its rails began to ring in my head once more, threatening to drown me in an endless spiral of inquiry. I'd based the defense on a ticking clock device. Divert, and draw out. And yet, a gnawing unknown value was still left staring me in the face even with Bismarck coming up clutch and filling in every other gap. What would that extraction team even be like? A squad of subs? Destroyers? Some secret tech we don't know about? Teleportation? What if a Siren does pop up? What if…

When the last person was out of the room, Monarch lingered at the threshold a little longer, holding a hand against the doorway. She looked at me over her shoulder with a very concerned expression. I did my best to keep the rushing dam of paranoia hidden beneath the surface, but I questioned how good a job I was doing.

And then she smiled at me.

Strangely, in the split second she did, the racket was silenced. It was choked, snuffed out. With the light of the hallway behind her contrasting the darker atmosphere of the situation room, she looked like an angel.

I smiled back and nodded.

She returned it, mouthed 'See you later,' turned around, and walked away.

…That was lovely.

Okay. We somehow have...I don't know, eighty percent of a plan. I still have a lot of questions to sort through. I buried my face in my hands to try and gather my bearings, shutting my eyes, and drawing deep breaths in and out. When I reopened them, the emptiness of the room was all that was left. That was definitely a good thing. I'd be much more useful with a clear head.

There are times in a person's career where their ability to discern will be challenged. I grimly designated this as one of those times.

Shutting the map down and grabbing my folders, I opened the door and walked back out. Another glorious day in the navy.

A/N: Hello, folks! This set of chapters has proven quite the doozy to write, but we're truckin' on. I was just wondering how a quick AMA would go over. Just keep in mind questions about personal information are off-limits (and don't ask what happens next.) If you've got one, just pop it in via the review section, and I'll answer in the author's note in the next chapter! I'll be on the lookout for questions until 1 week after this chapter goes live. Thanks for reading and the support! 'Till next time.

Cheers, Jarvis.