Chapter II: A Thousand-Mile Journey's First Step
Date: Aug. 16. 1949
Location: [REDACTED], Pacific Ocean
The sun slowly crept over the Pacific horizon. The base was still quiet, not yet ready for the morning. Belfast woke early, as she always did. She stood in front of a full-body mirror in her private quarters on the estate. Absentmindedly brushed her hair, while her mind was adrift as she looked back on the last night's events. A small smile crept on her face. It was unexpected but by no means an unpleasant time. Seeing one of her sisters was like a deep drink of water from an oasis in the desert. It made her cubes sing in a way she hadn't felt in a while. She supposed the adage of 'distance made the heart grow fonder' was true. It saddened her, however, knowing that Newcastle would be leaving today. That she would be once again alone, surrounded by former adversaries. No friends - at least close ones, or family that she could depend on.
She quickly banished those thoughts from her mind. To think of such things was unbecoming of a maid. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on such matters, now that she had a new master under her charge. Despite her apprehensions, the thought brought a small smile to her lips.
Once she was fully dressed and felt presentable, Belfast gracefully glided out of her room. Her heels delicately clicked along the lacquered hardwood floor. Her lilac eyes scanned every conceivable surface for dust or other imperfections. She made sure the estate looked perfect. The colonial house itself was large and spacious. The foyer was open and was flanked by a wing with several guest rooms, and a well-furnished lounge room with an open fireplace. Straight ahead, were two curved stairs that ascended to the second floor. Past between the stairs was the kitchen and dining area. With large French doors, that lead to a deck. Giving the patron a magnificent view of the hills, sands, and ocean.
Before she began her day, she was greeted by Newcastle as she stepped out of her room. She looked well-rested and refreshed, she greeted her sistership and fellow maid with a respective bow. "Good morning, Belfast. I hope you slept well?" Newcastle asked, "are you ready for a new day?"
"I did, thank you, and of course. I always am." Belfast said with a light smile, usually, it was her who asked those questions.
Newcastle lightly sighed as she approached Belfast, "as I said yesterday - I will be leaving today. Why don't you wake up your new master, while I make us all breakfast?" The least Newcastle could do was leave on a high note. Belfast considered her sisters' words and nodded as she stepped aside and glided up the stairs, while Newcastle disappeared into the kitchen.
Her heels clicked as she strode towards her master's bedroom. As much as it saddened her that she would be alone again, she was internally grateful that he allowed her to spend some time with her sister. Once she reached his room at the end of the hall, she gave herself one more once-over, to make sure she was nothing less than perfect. Her new master deserved nothing but the best. She would make sure of that. Belfast gave the door a light wrap and waited a few moments, but there was no answer. She tried again and was answered with silence. She frowned, she hoped that this was not a habit of his. If it was, then this was already off to a bad start. With a huff, she stepped in. Only to have her annoyance rapidly replaced by a heavy blush, and an audible gasp that she concealed with her hand.
Levesque was laid splayed out on top of his bed, in only his skivvies.
It took a moment for Belfast to regain her composure and strode in, doing her best to calm her now burning cheeks. The room itself was large and spacious, comparable to only his office. His bed was in the centre, flanked by a couple of nightstands – one of which was holding an empty glass pitcher and a recently placed glass ashtray. A half-finished cigarette rested in one of the grooves, the grey smoke lazily wafted. His dresser hugged the back corner of the wall, next to a set of French doors that allowed him to the second-floor balcony. It was apparent that her master took some time to unpack some of his belongings. A couple of books and journals lay on the desk, while off to the side was a sizable decorative table with several chairs waiting to be used. She could smell the distinct harsh scent of shoe polish coming from the area. His drill cane rested comfortably next to one of the chairs, while his shoes rested on top of the table. Shining in the darkness.
Belfast sighed as she strode to her master's side, ready to open up the curtains to wake him. However, she took a moment to let herself examine her master's physique. It was a maid's duty to take care of their master after all. She needed to make sure that he was taking care of himself mentally, as well as physically.
Despite his rank as an officer; her master indeed looked like he took care of himself. Compared to the slender build of Adams, Levesque's was more solid. He looked like he was just as comfortable working in a mine or lumber yard, as he would in an officer's uniform. To her surprise, he was also covered in a fine layer of body hair. Especially along his forearms, and legs, while the hair on his chest, drastically tapered down his sternum. It was reminding her of a tree, somewhat. She wondered if all men from the "Great White North" looked so robust? She wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Harsh environments usually bred hearty people. The maid knew nothing of her master's homeland. She was aware of the more "independent" dominions of the Commonwealth, but she knew little of them. Knew nothing of him. He was a man of the Commonwealth; a subject to the Crown, at the very least. That was a small comfort - it was a start. She wouldn't be truly alone anymore.
The maid felt her cubes hum at the thought of having someone else to speak to about home. The royal marines were courteous enough, but she still felt that they gave off a polite disinterest to her - and the shipgirls in general. Would he be interested? If he was, she hoped it wasn't in the same way as Adams and his associates were. She involuntarily shuddered. The thought of their analytical eyes watching her like a lab rat left an acidic taste in her mouth.
She further observed her new charge as he looked like he struggled to sleep. Was he having troubling dreams? Was it about the war, or was there something else that plagued his mind? How many of Her Majesty's subjects had given their lives to protect the Isles? While her knowledge was limited, she was aware his kinsmen risked much defending Her Majesty's Merchant Fleets, as well as the Isles from the skies. They performed their duty amicably, and with absolute courage. As any good dominion of the Commonwealth should. But that didn't stop the gnawing pit in her chest. Did he lose any of his kin in the war? Did he have anyone back home he was hoping to see? Did he miss them? Was he like her?
Those questions only brought a dark cloud over Belfast. She missed her siblings. Whether they were across in the Atlantic or forever lost when the Sirens made their last gambit. Even worse were those who she lost, right under her nose. She should've known better, she should've acted faster, seen the signs sooner. She missed them dearly. She could only hope that Dido and Sirius were safe, wherever they were. She looked at her new master once again and sighed.
Belfast moved and tied the curtain open, to allow the slowly brightening sunlight in. It cast a light hue of bright yellows, reds, and oranges upon her master. The scene allowed her to see his body in detail. She couldn't help but giggle to anyone's surprise.
He was covered in sweat.
His chest hair clung to his body for dear life, along with his dog tags. He also wore another necklace around his neck. Belfast curled her head curiously as the sun's light reflected off the golden crucifix. Attached to the same silver chain as the cross, was a simple golden ring.
A pang rose within Belfast's chest when she focused on the ring. Her cubes sang a sorrowful song that she couldn't understand, but she shook her head to refocus herself. Even she had to admit she allowed herself to look at her master far longer than a proper maid should. The man in question groaned as the light of the sun hit his face. Belfast couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. She found it cute how his face scrunched up, "I am sorry Master, but it is time for you to wake and get ready for the day." She said soothingly, while he groaned as he opened his eyes. Grey met lilac.
"G-good morning to you too Miss Belfast… I hope you had a good visit with Newcastle?" He asked groggily as he slowly peeled himself off the bed. His eyes felt like they were on fire, as he rubbed them. Trying and failing to alleviate the pain. How many hours did he manage this time? Four? Five hours on and off maybe? "I have to say… that was the best and worst sleep I've had in a while, eh." Levesque chuckled hoarsely as he sat on the side of the bed. The captain tried reaching for the nightstand, only to curse when he saw the pitcher was empty.
"I did, thank you for asking Master," Belfast said with a kind smile, "It is always nice to catch up with people you have not seen in a long time. Even if I try to keep regular correspondence, seeing their face and hearing their voice is - I dare say, refreshing."
"I'm glad to hear Miss Belfast," Levesque responded as he forced himself off the bed. He groaned as he stretched his back, still in a half-conscious state, unaware of how close he put himself in front of Belfast. Her cheeks blushed while she took a gracious step back, "and I must add," he continued as he rolled his shoulders, "If you're the one who had been keeping this place clean and tidy throughout the years, you've done a phenomenal job. On the other hand, I expected nothing less from a woman who knows how to clean up a battlefield. Especially the North Cape."
Her lilac eyes widened, "you were there?" She took a step forward, a spark of excitement evident in her voice. He did mention that he knew of her ship. She tried to recollect if there were any Canadians with her, while she and her kin hunted down one of the 'Ugly Sisters'.
"I wasn't at the battle," he admitted sadly, "I served on the destroyer Haida, we continued escorting the convoy to the Soviet Union while you sent the Scharnhorst to Davy Jones' locker." Even though that didn't seem to matter in the end. He thought bitterly as the sight of the battlecruiser flashed to the forefront of his mind. He quickly banished those thoughts as he gave the light cruiser a light smile, "It's an honour and a privilege to see you once again." His smile widened, "beautiful face, for a beautiful ship." To have such a large weapon of war personified as a woman as stunning as the one before him, still made his head spin. That fact they even existed still baffled him, but he couldn't deny their existence or the results they brought. He'd seen too much with his own eyes.
Belfast paused for a moment, but gave her master a gracious curtsy, "thank you for your kind words, Master. I too look forward to serving by your side. There is a washroom in your quarters for you to freshen up, I shall be waiting for you in the dining room. Breakfast should be ready shortly, Master." She bowed and stepped out. Once he knew he was alone, he sat back down. Slipped the half-finished cigarette between his lips and groaned as he relit it. After a drawn-out drag, he sighed. His head was pounding, his mouth was dry, and sleep had eluded him once again. In other words; he felt like absolute shit, but that was par for the course at this point. For several long minutes, Samuel sat on the edge of his bed. His eyes unfocused, staring into nothingness, absentmindedly taking puffs of his smoke. When he finally noticed there was nothing left but the butt, he shook his head and snuffed out the cherry in the ashtray. At least the nicotine would help alleviate the headache. With a harsh crack of his neck, he grabbed a towel, headed toward the washroom, and turned on the shower. A pleasured moan escaped his lips as the hot water washed away the sweat and grime. Readying himself for the day ahead.
A short time passed until Captain Levesque stepped out of his bedroom. Now in his summer uniform, his face was freshly shaven. The moment he stepped out he was welcomed by pleasant smells. His mouth watered as he strode down the stairs, the clack of his shoes, and tap of his drill cane alerted both Belfast and Newcastle of his dissension. He stepped past the dual stairs and entered the dining area. The centrepiece was a large oval ornately carved oak table, with eight finely crafted chairs that matched its design. It looked like it cost a hefty penny as well. A finely polished counter separated it from the kitchen area to his right. There he spotted glass cabinets with decorated silken linens and fine china. The deck possessed a couple of rocking chairs that flanked the French doors to the open area. Belfast looked behind her, nodded towards the captain, and moved away from the stove while Newcastle finished up. Belfast offered him a pulled seat, "please have a seat Master, breakfast will be ready shortly." He thanked her as he removed his cap and placed it on an unoccupied area as he sat down. His cane rested on the side of his chair. Of all the things the estate had, there was no hat hook?
Not soon after Levesque sat down, he was greeted by a plate of a full English breakfast, with a cup of tea to wash it down. It all smelled wonderful, it brought back pleasant memories of his time on shore leave in England. He was about to start when he noticed both Belfast and Newcastle stood by his side expectantly. "Come on you two. Grab a plate and eat with me."
"We cannot do that Master," Belfast insisted speaking on her and Newcastle's behalf, "it is improper for a maid to eat at the same time as her Master."
He sighed and said in a softer tone, "Grab a plate and eat with me, please. I would like your company." Both remained hesitant, "I don't want to make this an order, eh." He ended with a playful smile as Belfast let out a defeated sigh and sit next to him, while Newcastle returned with a fresh plate for them both. Once the light cruisers sat down, he began to eat. Samuel smiled contently as he let the subtle spices tickle his tongue. The tea was nice as well. He would've preferred coffee in the morning, but the black tea would suffice. He added a teaspoon of honey, to meet his tastes. The three ate in comfortable silence, and Levesque praised Newcastle for her culinary skills. He had many meals onboard the Newcastle, made by the maid herself and she was more than adequate in cooking. She wasn't as great as his mom or grandparents, but he chopped that up to personal bias. Newcastle blushed and thanked him, while Belfast stayed silent in contentment, enjoying the light banter.
"If I may ask, Master," Belfast started as she took a sip of her tea, "what are your plans for the day? I assume you will be getting everything familiarized and organized?"
He paused as he chewed, "unfortunately I'm gonna be hunkered down in the office for a while. There's a backlog of paperwork that needs to be sorted out." He shook his head as he recalled the small mountain of papers, he witnessed last night. "I need to know how well this base is holding up, what supplies we do and don't have. It's gonna be a real kick in the teeth that's for sure, eh." Samuel admitted it was going to be a long, arduous day. Hell, he had months' worth of administrative work to go through, he'd be lucky if he didn't go cross-eyed by the week's end. What were the actual admin staff doing to cause such neglect? Samuel didn't want to know.
Belfast nodded elegantly, "it is good to hear that you are ready to get everything sorted and squared away, Master."
The captain nodded as he turned toward Newcastle, "so is there anything that you can share with us? Since you'll be dealing with the Aussies, eh."
Newcastle dabbed her lips with a napkin. "With the current war in the Dutch East Indies as well as the current communist insurgency in Vichy Indochina, I am being sent to protect trade routes from more opportunistic individuals." Levesque nodded his head. Southeast Asia had been an absolute mess after the war. Many of the colonial powers tried to re-establish themselves after the Japanese were thrown off their lands. Some were managed to be reined in, but many were spurred on by nationalistic fervour. While some wanted republican-style independence, others saw the victory of the Soviet Union and pushed for a more… socialist form of independent government.
"Well, I would say good luck to you Newcastle, but you're with the Aussies. If you were stationed with the Kiwis then I'd be concerned for you." The captain laughed and the other two shared a giggle. "When will you be leaving us?"
The light cruiser's face fell, "shorty after breakfast, Captain." Even though this wasn't new information to Belfast, the words still struck hard. It left a gnawing pain in her chest, as her cubes wept. Did she have to leave so soon? She knew the answer of course, but it didn't make it any less painful. She didn't let it show of course. It was improper for a maid to do so.
Levesque was silent but slowly nodded, "tell me when you leave, I'll see you off personally. It's the least I could do for you, for all you did for me." He gave her a light smile as a light blush coloured her cheeks.
"Thank you, Captain," she smiled, "I thank you for your praise, but I was simply doing my duty…"
"Nonsense." Levesque interjected, "you didn't have to, I could've gotten a regular ship n' crew to get me here, eh. But you brought me here, you protected me, and hell you shaved off a few days off, from a more contemporary voyage. So no, you have my thanks."
Newcastle's voice was barely above a whisper, "thank you, Captain…"
He smiled again but it quickly fell as he returned to his meal, deep in thought. It was going to be a long day, and already he felt like he had several fires to put out. He was just thankful he seemed to have some competent staff to work with. Lieutenant-Commander Scheer seemed capable, but why wasn't he given the position of base commander if he had far more experience with the shipgirls than he did? The captain suspected that internal politicking had been played with in one way or another. The thought made him shake his head. First, he had to get the base as functional as possible, then there was the whole missing fleet that he had to start looking into. One problem at a time. Samuel couldn't help but chuckle to himself - naval captain turned military detective. He never would've expected such a change in his career, but this was a responsibility his superiors entrusted him with. He'd be damned if he didn't give his all to succeed.
When the girls asked what he found amusing, he casually waved it off as he finished up his meal. The light cruisers finished up as well but insisted that they complete the dishes. Both stated that it was their duty to take care of the menial tasks. Levesque wanted to argue, but their faces and tone left no room for arguments. Samuel conceded with raised hands and let the maid perform their tasks. Before Levesque could leave the kitchen and disappear into his office, a brisk knock on the door caught everyone's attention.
The captain gestured for the girls to continue with their duties, as he ventured over to the front door. To his pleasant surprise, it was Scheer. The two men exchanged salutes. "Good morning, Captain," Scheer said, "I hope I'm not disturbing anything?" He asked as he peaked his head inside, catching a glimpse of the two maids cleaning up the kitchen.
"No, you're perfectly fine, Lieutenant-Commander. Just finished up breakfast." Levesque stated, "now is there a reason why you're here or may I begin sorting out that mess in my office, eh?" He asked in a light-hearted but justifiably annoyed manner.
The German officer rubbed the back of his head, "yes sir, I understand that, but yes, I do have some news. We just received word that one of our long-range patrol fleets will be returning to port in less than an hour. I believe it would be appropriate to welcome the girls back before you start on that work, sir."
"I see," Levesque said, "and why wasn't I informed of this yesterday?" Silence blanketed the two blondes.
"My apologizes, sir," Scheer said sheepishly. "We just received word on their arrival earlier this morning, and to be frank it's been a while since I've had to report to someone directly… I'm sorry Kapitän, a force of habit…"
Samuel sighed internally. He wasn't upset that he was being told this last minute - he was used to that. It did irk at him, however. He wanted to reprimand the man for what felt like a subversion of his authority, but that wasn't fair to either of them. He could understand where the lieutenant-commander was coming from, at a certain angle. He already had enough to deal with at the moment, but this felt like a slap in the face. Maybe seeing the girls would be good for morale? Plus, it would allow him to see Newcastle off, without looking or feeling like an aloof shut-in. Two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. "Alright," Levesque finally said, "I'll join you to greet them. I'll be there to join you shortly." Scheer nodded and gave an appreciative smile. The two men saluted and Levesque disappeared into the estate once again. He informed the girls of what was going on, and the two agreed to join him in welcoming the fleet's return.
She felt the cool ocean spray against her bow. The warmth of the rising sun against her back, as the wind blew through her light-pink hair. She could see the formations of the island crest over the horizon and couldn't help the small smile crease her face. It had been a long journey, and she was looking forward to the rest. More than likely a trip to the infirmary as well. Just that thought made her wince, as pain shot up her arm. She glanced down at her bandaged forearm. Gneisenau frowned. She should've been more careful, and paid more attention to her surroundings. She didn't know how those pirates managed to get their hands on a mass-produced destroyer. Maybe there were some factories that they missed when the war ended? Perhaps - and more likely - a black market sale? She and the other girls made short work of the destroyer and its auxiliary coastal boats. She was just happy to have sent those scum to the bottom before they caused any more damage to the convoy. The battlecruiser could've easily blamed her so-called "allies" for her injury, but she wasn't petty enough to do that.
To the common civilian, it would've looked like she was the flagship on a sortie. To her, however, she felt more like a prisoner being on escorted probation for good behaviour. There had been many times when she entertained the idea of going rogue; she had the most powerful guns out of the fleet, and her haul was able to take a decent beating. They surrounded her at ships equivalent, to knife-fighting range. Three cruisers and half a dozen destroyers all her in a diamond wedge formation. Even if she can take more than her fair share of punishment, sheer weight in munitions would eventually turn her haul into steel Swiss cheese.
Most importantly, however, if she did try to run, her sister and her remaining kin would be severely punished. Gneisenau couldn't do that to her family. Leaving her to act on her best behaviour, and try not to make the Ironblood look any worse than before.
She couldn't help but chuckle morbidly; even though she was surrounded by fellow shipgirls, and was allowed temporary freedom of the open ocean, she felt isolated and alone. While she couldn't wait to return to the island where she could be with her sister and kin. The irony wasn't lost on her.
She sighed as she slipped a fresh lollipop into her mouth. While many of her kin picked up the habit of their male countrymen and fellow soldiers, she couldn't stand the taste of tobacco. Gneisenau's natural sweet tooth, on the other hand, made sure she wasn't free from the curse that was cravings. The warship was about to drift off into space until a familiar voice rang in her ear. "Hey, Gneisenau! Mind if I come aboard!?" The pink-haired warship snapped out of her daze and looked over to the source. A small smile crept along her face and nodded in permission.
The person in question was another shipgirl. It was the Unionist girl, Cleveland. The strawberry-blonde woman was gliding along the open water with her rigging activated. There was a small conning tower on her back, that had two arms wrapped around her hips which housed her armaments. To her left was a split bow with two of her triple-barrel 6in. calibre, Mark 16 turrets. While on her right were two of her twin-barrel 5in. calibre turrets. While her rigging didn't possess the same amount of firepower as her vessel-propper, she could still do a number on anyone not careful. On the other hand, even the simplest of destroyer rigging had the firepower equivalent of a grenade launcher.
That would put a damper on anyone's day.
Cleveland gave the Ironblood an infectious smile, as she jumped onto the battlecruiser's deck. Gneisenau turned to properly greet her. She was on the shorter side when it came to her class type, but was at least taller than most destroyer-type girls. What she lacked in the womanlier traits other kansen in the same class, she made up for with her lithe and athletic build. At least she didn't use her lack of a chest as a crutch, unlike some people Gneisenau knew.
Cleveland; despite her more literal shortcomings was still an attractive woman. A fair complexion, along with her strawberry-blonde hair that flowed down to her mid-back, with an off-set ponytail. Her eyes were a pair of confident reds. She wore a simple blue and white, long-sleeved top. The skirt was black with red trimming while sporting star-spangled knee socks, with her iconic white cloak. While she also had pieces of red armoured plates on her shoulders, as well as hugged her hips.
"Good morning, Cleveland," Gneisenau greeted the Unionist cruiser.
"Glad to be finally back at port. I mean, Southeast Asia was great n' all, but it's nice to be home, right." Cleveland smiled as she deactivated her rigging with a flash of blue light. "How's your arm by the way?" She asked with concern. Gneisenau looked back down at her arm, then back to her. She would be lying if she said Cleveland didn't care about her. The light cruiser fits the caring "big sister" trope perfectly. She was so easy-going and approachable, that it baffled the German warship. Despite the fact they were enemies not even a decade ago, the strawberry-blonde had the uncanny ability to make friends with everyone.
For that, Gneisenau envied her.
"I'm fine thank you for your concern, Cleveland." Gneisenau said, "I simply didn't expect the enemy to pepper my haul with .50 calibre, and land a lucky hit on Anton's turret ring." She was more than thankful that she wasn't reloading at the time. What annoyed her more than anything was the fact that Anton was jammed at an awkward angle. It didn't hinder her speed or maneuverability; it was more reminiscent of an itch that couldn't be scratched.
The American cruiser blushed as she rubbed the back of her head, "yeah I'm sorry about that." Cleveland said bashfully, "I was too busy trying to pop those PT boats before they got close enough to launch their torps."
Gneisenau waved it off. "There is no need. The destroyer only caused minor damage." She leaned against the railing as she sank into her thoughts, "who do you think was behind the attack?" She asked out loud. Cleveland looked at her curiously. "We were between the East Indies and Indochina when we were attacked," Gneisenau explained, "but not close enough for coastal craft to operate normally. So, either they had a supply ship we didn't know about, or they had been given extra fuel."
Cleveland pondered this for a few moments, "I'm not sure. I didn't notice any marking on the vessels. Hell, not even on the destroyer. And they were all using a mish-mash of different weapons. So, it's hard to tell." She gave a helpless shrug. Maybe they were just pirates, or they were one of the many communist guerilla forces that had popped out of the woodwork throughout Southeast Asia. She just hoped the higher-ups could figure it out when they were given the after-action reports. Speaking of higher-ups. "Oh yeah!" The strawberry-blonde exclaimed, "aren't we supposed to be getting a new base commander soon?"
Before Gneisenau could respond another girl answered via their commlink, "yeah, you're right Cleveland. I managed to pick up some communications earlier yesterday on the radio. He arrived yesterday." Both girls turned toward the source.
To Gneisenau's starboard, was one of the Brooklyn-class cruisers. She was tall and was on the womanlier side; with a sizeable bust and curves to match. She was a tanned beauty, with ash-blonde hair that waved through the wind. Eyes red as polished rubies, with a face that could put a smile on the dourest of sailors. She dressed similarly to her sisters: a choker that attached two thick straps that supported, her short two-tone white dress. The dress itself reached her thighs, with two maroon stripes that went down the sides, with strategic slits that showed off the sides of her black panties. Dark-grey thigh-high stockings covered her shapely legs, while the matching fingerless long-sleeved gloves finished off her attire.
Nashville smiled as she waved at her fellow shipgirls from the haul of her sip. "I managed to pick up some talk from the other girls who were on their vessels." She said with a southern twang, "so I guess we'll be seeing him when we make it to port."
"What makes you think that he'll even be there?" The third cruiser interjected. She - like Nashville - was a Brooklyn-class light cruiser and made up the rearguard of the formation. She was pale with fiery amber eyes; her hair was as red as ripe apples. It was tied in twin tails with black ribbons cascading down her hips. dressed similar to her sistership; she wore a bow-shaped choker that was attached to two thick straps to her thigh-length dress. It was white, with navy blue stripes that ran down her sides. The same strategic slits that showed her panties were present as well. She also sported a pair of black stockings that ran up her long legs, with a pair of white long-sleeved gloves. She also wore a captain's jacket that draped over her shoulders, with an officer's cap that rested on her head. She crossed her arms under her impressive bust. "What makes you think that he's gonna be there? Hell, for all we know he's being a lecherous pig and ogling at the other girls. Probably thinks he hit the jackpot for a harem for all we know." Just thinking about it made Honolulu's skin crawl.
She knew that many of the marines stared at her no matter how discrete they tried to be. She knew how the guys would make lists on who was the most attractive woman on base. She always seemed to be in the top 10, but that didn't help the fact she felt like a piece of meat being appraised. Sure, she'd seen some of the men interact with her with genuine interest, but she couldn't help but suspect they had ulterior motives. Whether they were justified or not.
"Well, that's not fair," Nashville responded, "we can't make assumptions about people we haven't met yet. I mean sure he was a bad example, but not every officer is like him." As much as Nashville understood her sister's trepidation, assuming the worst about every officer would offer nothing good in this situation. While Honolulu only responded with a 'hmph' and a pout, the other girls decided to pitch in their two cents.
"Yeah, you're right Nash," Cleveland said, "we can't assume anything until we meet the guy. For all, we know he's the guy we need. I mean Scheer is okay, but he's not the… best qualified. Oh, no offence Gneisenau…"
The battlecruiser waved it off, "none taken. I feel the same way at times. Though he does have his uses. But I do agree with fräu Honolulu…" This allowed the cruiser a small satisfied grin, "my past experiences have not been the best when it comes to officers. So, I don't blame her for assuming the worst." The pinkette paused as she licked at her lollipop, "but I also desire for the best. Maybe the Fates have decided to grant us small mercy. We will have to see." She drifted off as the other girls let her words sink in. Gneisenau was thankful that she was surrounded by some of the more cordial Union girls. At least she didn't feel like she was walking on eggshells.
As they made their way closer to the island, Cleveland asked Gneisenau if she wanted to join her in a game of basketball later that day. The German warship humbly declined the invitation, stating she needed to write up the reports, but that didn't stop Cleveland from asking the others. Nashville also declined, stating that she wanted to listen to a couple of new records that she managed to snag when they were in Manila. While Honolulu simply didn't want to play.
Gneisenau looked at the Union girls with envy. They all seemed to be far happier… free-spirited than her and her kin. Even the more strict and stern Union girls, all seemed to know when to let their hair down and relax. The Ironblood on the other hand was more disciplined and professional, but they were also far more rigid, often dour and aloof. The only time she seemed to see any of the Ironblood's smiles was when they finish off a bottle of hard liquor, or when they were shooting at something. Target practise or not.
It frustrated her to no end. Was this part of the nature of the shipgirl? Did the 'spirit' of their parent nation influence and imprint upon their psyche or was it their experiences that gave them these attitudes? Was this an example of what humans called, nature vs. nurture? Gneisenau groaned as she rubbed her temples. She was a warship, not a philosopher. She had more important matters to attend to. Gneisenau took several breaths as she maneuvered her vessel into her berth. Once in position, she hopped off her warship and joined the other girls. They stood in formation in front of the welcoming party, where she was greeted by a small party of familiar faces and a new one.
The newcomer was the new base commander if his uniform and presentation were of any distinction to go by. He stood in front of Scheer, in his summer dress, as well as had his left arm behind his back, while his other hand held what looked like a .50 calibre bullet that was cut in half, with a long black wooden shaft, he was using as an impromptu cane. It was strange to the German warship, but she surmised it was part of his military traditions.
She was thankful that he looked more like an adult rather than a child pretending to be one. The previous commander may have had eyes beyond his years, but that did little to compensate for his youthful physique. The battlecruiser always wondered if the Unionists were as desperate as the Ironbloods for a time? The thought brought back the rare times she was given the privilege of shore leave back in Germany.
She remembered a particular moment, in the fall of '44. She was walking along the bombed-out streets of Kiel, on her way to a local bar to drown away the grief and stress. Gneisenau spotted a section of soldiers, who were being loaded into a transport truck. Young men - boys. No younger than 16 years, but no older than 18; barely old enough to grow any facial hair. They wore cheaper, shoddier uniforms, and their weapons she could tell were of lesser quality. When they looked at her, she saw the anxiety, fear, and solemn acceptance. They knew they would most likely die, but they were willing to fight to defend their Fatherland from the invaders regardless. She remembered the pang in her chest, and the sorrow her cubes sang out, once their Obersoldat encouraged his soldiers to sing Erika in her honour.
She never saw them after they were sent to the Eastern Front.
The tap of steel on concrete brought Gneisenau back from her reminiscing. The new officer walked towards them, only stopping a few metres away. His grey eyes observed them all. They all stood in silence, for several long moments. Then in a fluid motion, the man swung the cane under his arm and called everyone to attention. Military training kicked in, and all the shipgirls snapped to action with practised, precise motion. Gneisenau watched as the man walked over to Cleveland, who was at the front of the formation. "USS Cleveland of the Cleveland-class light cruisers Hull Number CL-55 - Knight of the Sea! The flagship of the returning fleet, reporting back from a long-range sortie, sir!" She declared in front of the man. Gneisenau could hear the gears turning in his head, as he tried to comprehend what he was witnessing.
Luckily for everyone, he was quick to recover, "welcome back, Miss Cleveland, I hope everything went well?"
"As well as things could've, sir." Cleveland said with her award-winning smile, "besides a few dents and bruises, we're all shipshape and ready to rock n' roll!"
The captain could only smile warmly at the small strawberry-blonde. "I like your enthusiasm." He moved down the line as he did the day before. Stopping in front of the bi-spectacled battlecruiser. He had to say she was a beautiful one.
Tall, with fair skin, and light-pink hair that ran down past her back. Intelligent blue eyes behind a pair of red-rimmed glasses. Levesque was surprised at seeing that a warship needed glasses, to begin with. A design flaw or maybe it had something to do with her cubes? Her top was a simple, white sleeveless shirt, that struggled to hold her large chest, and showed off her midriff. Her arms were covered with a pair of black and red long-sleeve gloves, that splayed out at the ends and cuffs. Her legs were covered by a pair of black thigh-high stockings, with knee-high black leather boots. Her matching short-shorts showed off a nice portion of her creamy thighs. A stylized wedge cap completed her attire.
After a brief moment, Levesque gave the German woman a kind smile. "I hope you had a good time enjoying the Pacific sun and waves Miss Gneisenau?"
"H-how do you know me, sir?" The pinkette did her best not to flinch, to keep her voice steady.
The captain gave her a friendly wink, "I recognize your hull, and since your sister is docked here. That could only lead to one conclusion." So, her new commanding officer was a veteran of the Atlantic theatre? She could've asked for worse people to lead her. It wouldn't be the first time a foreign power decided to dictate her people. What surprised her, however, was that there was a warm, welcoming tone to his voice. She expected malice but received none. She didn't whether to be relieved or suspicious. She would have to speak with the others about that and get some more insight into the man. Nashville's words came back to her, however; the benefit of the doubt. Gneisenau could only pray that she was right. "I wasn't there when your sister sank, but I heard she gave one hell of a fight, eh" He continued, breaking her from her inner thoughts. "I'm not your enemy, and you're not mine anymore. You girls have been blessed with a second chance. I'm going to make sure neither of you wastes it, eh."
That would be difficult knowing her sibling, "I-I will make sure of that… Thank you. We won't let you down, sir" He let out a light laugh, patted her bare shoulder, and nodded approvingly as he continued.
Next was Honolulu, who stared right back at Levesque. He didn't understand why, but her stare was full of disdain and felt far more personal. "Honolulu of the Brooklyn-class light cruisers, I've served in the Pacific and like you - am a fellow veteran. I expect you to treat me as such and not a walking pleasure object." She stated hotly.
There was a palpable silence. Several of the girls tried to comprehend what they had just heard. Some of the destroyers failed to keep their mouths from going a gap, while others had their eyes bug out. Some mentally started betting on what the new commander would do. Levesque on the other hand merely gave her uniform a quick once-over, and met her eyes, face unreadable. "Duly noted," was his only response as he moved to the next girl down the line.
Nashville did her best to restrain herself from facepalming at what her sister had said. That was not how you wanted to speak to a superior officer! Especially an officer who had nothing to do with what had happened in the past. Said officer met her eyes, and she did her best to hide her embarrassment behind a confident smile. "USS Nashville! It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Please don't mind my sister, she's just cranky after a long sortie is all." She tried to ignore the glare she could feel from Honolulu. Couldn't the ungrateful red-headed tsundere see that her loving sister was trying to save her from a public chewing out!?
Luckily for her, Levesque gave her a kind smile with a nod, "the pleasure is mine Miss Nashville, I hope you took care of yourself and your compatriots." He paused for a moment, " As for your sister being cranky? Your concern is noted, but that is still no way to speak to your superior officer. As much as I understand defending your sibling when they do something stupid, there is no to defend her, when she's perfectly capable of doing it herself. I'm not your enemy; I'm here to get this base in shipshape, but I need everyone's cooperation to make that happen, eh." When Nashville nodded he gave her a small reassuring smile while giving one last look to Honolulu before moving on.
He walked down the line of destroyers, acquainted himself with them and exchanged small talk. Never being too short to feel rushed, or taking longer than necessary. Once he finished, he returned to his position in front of the formation of shipgirls. "Alright, ladies!" He began, grabbing all their attention, "Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Capt. Samuel Levesque. As you have already assumed I'm your new base commander. I understand you all have had a long sortie, and are quite tired. I will be allowing you the day's rest, and let you get your medical issues checked out before you return to your regular duties." The majority of the girls all expressed varying degrees of gratitude before he continued. "As for the reports? I will be allowing some leeway, but I will be expecting them no later than before dinner. Am I understood?"
Once the girls acknowledged him, he nodded, "one last thing before I dismiss you. I will be spending a lot of time in my office, sorting out a lot of backlogs. So, I will tell you this; I have an open-door policy. If anyone has any questions, concerns or issues…" He emphasized as he made a pointed look toward Honolulu, who did her best to avoid direct eye contact, as her cheeks turned redder than her hair "… please don't hesitate to knock on my door, eh. Dismissed."
The girls filed themselves out once given the order. The destroyers all gaggled together and began chatting as they ascended to the base. Cleveland followed suit, while Honolulu stared at Levesque. She gave an undignified 'hmph' before she walked back as well. Gneisenau and Nashville stayed behind as they watched Levesque turn his attention to his XO. Even though they were far enough not to cause a distraction, their heightened hearing proved to be quite beneficial.
Levesque marched over to Scheer, "since I will be in my office, thanks to some rather incompetent staff," he stated with a low bite to his voice, "I need you to grab me the files of all the missing girls. As well as the main conspirators of that son-of-a-bitch. I don't care if they're post-it notes. I need information, and I want it all by day's end. The sooner I get everything organized and up to snuff, the sooner we can get this quagmire over with. Am I understood?" Once he looked Scheer in the eyes, he let out a small sigh. Levesque gave the German a small smile, and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'm sorry. Let's bring our girls home; let's get this done my friend," he said in German.
Scheer steeled himself as he gave his commanding officer a crisp salute, "yes sir!" He replied in kind as she swiftly marched toward the base. With an in his eyes, that many of the girls hadn't seen in years. Levesque watched him leave with a fond smile of approval. He turned his attention to the small gaggle of Bulin. At a loss of how to address them, he simply shrugged and told them to do their thing. They all shouted "Buli!" and stormed towards the ship's tools in hand. All were led by a lead Bulin who was wearing a marine helmet that was comically too big for her small head. Samuel couldn't help but laugh at the sight as he gestured the two maids to follow him toward the Newcastle.
That left only Nashville and Gneisenau alone. They stayed in silence for a few moments, only for the ash-blonde to look over at the pinkette. "I like him," Nashville said suddenly, "his eyes are cold." Gneisenau looked at her with a look that demanded she elaborate on such a statement. "His eyes are cold," Nashville repeated, "they're the kind of cold that makes you wanna wrap up in a blanket. With a nice cup of coffee or hot chocolate. Hell, a cold breeze on a mid-summer day, would also be an apt description."
Gneisenau took a moment to think about what her counterpart had just said. When she looked into his eyes, she could see an Atlantic storm. Powerful, and cold but she also felt a familiarity as well. He was not of the Kriegsmarine, but there was something there that she couldn't quite pin. Was it comforting? Perhaps, but it was too early for her to make any conclusions.
After a few moments, Nashville once again spoke, "I think it's time we get on with our day huh? I mean I got my music, and you got your report to make right?" Gneisenau nodded, while Nashville gave her a departing wave. "Well get some rest and get your arm checked! The last thing ya want is Vestal to give you an ear-full. Take care ya hear!" The bi-spectacled woman watched as Nashville retreated to her vessel. Gneisenau let out a weary sigh as she shook her head, then turned her attention to the barracks. It was time to have her little family reunion.
Captain Levesque, along with the two Royal Maids merrily walked along the dock. Exchanging in small talk, mixed with comfortable silence. The clack of their heels mixed with the tap of his drill cane echoed against the concrete. He caught a glimpse of the regiment-sized formation of marines on the parade square. He could hear Major Holland conduct morning PT.
Once the trio made it to the Newcastle, Levesque turned towards the woman. "Once again, I'd like to thank you for bringing me here, Miss Newcastle; you did a wonderful job. I pray for your safety in your future endeavours, and I hope to see you soon." He gave the woman a crisp salute.
While Newcastle looked at him, she smiled warmly as she returned with a deep bow. "You honour me with such kind words and praise, Capt. Levesque. I will do my utmost to uphold your wishes. Your company was wonderful, and I too hope to see you again. God save the Queen."
Levesque had to pause for a moment before he responded. "God save the King."
Before anything else could be said, Belfast tapped on the captain's shoulder. Levesque understood the silent request and stepped aside, allowing the two sisters to speak privately. "I wish you the best Newcastle," Belfast said, "please be careful and make the Commonwealth proud."
"No need to worry about that Belfast. You know I will do my utmost to do my best." Newcastle said.
Belfast nodded as she tilted her head to the side, deep in thought. She looked back toward Newcastle, "if you accept, I have something to ask of you." When Newcastle nodded earnestly Belfast pulled out a small bundle of envelopes from a pocket within her dress. "As I have said; I have been having difficulty corresponding with my sisters and acquaintances as of late. I would ask that if you can, deliver these to them?" Newcastle was silent for a few moments, and Belfast began to grow worried. Before she could say anything else, however, Newcastle stepped forward and delicately took the bundle in her hands.
"Of course, I will," she said as she slipped the bundle into a pocket. With another step, she wrapped her arms around Belfast, who immediately returned the embrace. It was an unsightly action for a maid to do, but if yesterday's actions were anything to go by; Belfast suspected her new master cared little for such conduct. "None of us have forgotten you," Newcastle whispered into the former head maid's ear, as she rubbed her back slowly, "we all still love you, and we all hope to see you again soon." Newcastle could feel the wet stinging pricks in the corner of her eyes, but she did her best to hold them back. "Please be safe, and take care of yourself. For all of us."
Belfast suppressed a shudder, "thank you," she whispered back, "I love you all too. You know I will, but please take care of yourself as well my sister."
"Of course, I will."
The two split apart and gave each other a curtsy. Belfast stepped back and returned to Levesque, while Newcastle stepped onto her vessel. Levesque noticed Belfast's glassy eyes as she tried to keep her composure. He didn't say anything but offered her a handkerchief. She accepted it and dabbed at her eyes. It was such an unsightly thing to do in front of her master, but who was she to refuse aid from her master? "Thank you, Master." She murmured as she returned it to him. He took it back as they watched the Newcastle maneuver her way out of the port and into the open ocean.
"Everything will be alright Belfast. You girls are tough. You'll see her again, eh" Samuel said.
Belfast was quiet for a few moments when an earlier thought came to mind. "Do… do you have anyone waiting for you back home, Master?" She looked towards him, a half-smile on his face as he looked off into the distance. A look of fondness and melancholy glazed over his features.
"My mom," he said simply, "... relatives here and there." She could sense that there was something amiss with his answer. His voice was weighed down, and his eyes had an all too familiar look to them. Her cubes sang a sad song, for their shared sorrow. They stayed in silence for a while longer before Levesque spoke again. "C'mon Miss Belfast, let's head back. We have a lot of work to do, eh." He gave her a small smile while she nodded in return. The two returned to the estate, ready to tackle the tasks ahead. Belfast couldn't help the feeling of elation rise within her chest, or how a simple "we" made a smile creep across her lips.
Everyone played their part as the day went on. Soon the bright yellow of the Pacific sun, became a golden orange as it descended toward the horizon. Samuel sat in his leather chair as the ceiling fan worked its hardest to circulate the humidity. A freshly lit cigarette between his lips as he tried to calm his increasingly frayed nerves. His desk was filled with a small mountain of forms that needed to be re-worked. He had been tackling this monster - and bane of his existence - ever since the morning. Samuel was doing his damnedest to not scream into his hands.
Oh, he wasn't livid, just very disappointed.
The requisition forms were littered with spelling as well as mathematical errors. 50 barrels of oil? It should've been 500. 10 cases of .30-06 Springfield? Should've been 10 crates! Everything from: ship munitions, vehicle parts, spare parts, extra weapons and food, everything from and up to the kitchen sink has been short-changed. Samuel was completely floored by this revelation. This was either a product of sheer incompetence or deliberate sabotage. He prayed that it was the former, he dared not to think of the implications if it was the latter. He honestly didn't know what he was more afraid of. There was one thing that Levesque knew, however, the moment he found out who was responsible for this, was going to get reamed nine ways to Sunday! Samuel chuckled morbidly to himself; he hoped they liked licking the flight decks clean.
Before he could continue with his sadistic fantasy of cruel and unusual punishments, he heard a knock on his door. He checked his wall-mounted clock and noted it was a little before evening chow. Cleveland arrived earlier with her report, so he surmised it might be Gneisenau. He assumed that it would've been the German who would give him the report first, but he guessed she went to the doctors for her arm. "Come in." He called out as he took a puff.
What he expected was a pink-haired woman, with red-rimmed glasses. The woman who came in was not Gneisenau.
She stood tall and walked with a confident gait. Golden blonde hair cascaded down her back, with matching bangs that framed her regal fair-skinned face. Her eyes were ice-blue as she methodically scanned her surroundings. She wore a stylized black officer's cap. Her tunic was black with golden laced accents, with a window that showed her impressive chest. A short black skirt, with thick vertical crimson and golden bars, hugged her long and slender legs. While white-fur-lined black thigh-high boots covered said slender legs. A white-fur-lined cape completed her attire; black with a crimson inlay. Samuel didn't need her to tell him her name. The blue crest, with gold and white oak leaves, told him everything he needed to know.
His knee-jerk response was to tell her to get the hell out of his office, but he refrained with considerable effort. His second reaction was to ask her what she was doing in his office, only to catch that she held a small bundle of manila folders under her bust.
Of course. He asked Scheer to get him documents before the day's end. It didn't matter who the messenger was. Levesque took a slow, calming drag; now was not the time. The two parties engaged in a silent, but heavy staring contest.
Once Bismarck was allowed entry, she allowed herself a moment to look over her surroundings. The commander's office was quite large, and if she may add a more comfortable accommodation. She immediately saw the commander's desk. It was made of fine dark wood and was flanked in front by matching leather seats. Behind the commander were a couple of bookcases, they weren't full, and they allowed for some personal memorabilia to be displayed. They flanked a set of French doors which allowed seeing the view of the beach, and sea, as well as the civilian town down below.
Further, to her left was a lounge area: a matching dark leather couch with a couple of chairs, surrounding a dark wood coffee table. While behind them was a raised platform with a long table and chalkboard next to it. Maps of the regions littered the table and walls around it. The biggest difference that Bismarck could spot was the ensign of his dominion that hung proudly on a wall. Then she turned her attention to her point of interest.
He sat in his chair, and it was obvious that he had been chipping away at the mountain of paperwork before she entered. He was as how Eugen described him to be. Even to his sleep-deprived, storm-grey eyes. That was what caught her attention. Those grey orbs stared at her with a wave of hidden anger that she was no stranger to seeing. She was used to getting the stares of barely hidden rage and disgust from those of the Allied forces. She still remembered the sneers and jeers when she and her Ironblood kin, were subject to when they were paraded out of their homeland. She was well aware of her and her people's reputation during the war. But from what Eugen told her, he was more than cordial with herself and Scheer. That was reinforced by the statements Gneisenau made when she made her report to her. That would suggest that his malice wasn't toward her people, but her.
She tried to recall if she knew the man, but she couldn't find any familiarity. When the Reich brought her back from her first death, they made sure that she wouldn't be lost again. That only left one answer.
"Commander -" Bismarck began in German.
"Captain." Levesque snapped back in his mother's tongue.
Bismarck paused for a moment, her glacier-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I have come to give you the profiles you requested from LtCmdr. Scheer, as well as the after-action report from Miss Gneisenau." Bismarck could see the storm that raged behind his eyes. They felt cold, and powerful like the Atlantic in November. She refused to relent either. Bismarck knew that she had her aura that could make even the most stalwart of men break. The man before her refused to back down. Which in itself was commendable. She could see he was struggling to keep his composure, however; like her very being was an afront to him. He dared her to blink first.
"Thank you, Bismarck." He said through gritted teeth, as he blew out a large trail of smoke, after a long drag. At least he acknowledged her existence. "Please… leave them on my desk and I will look at them when I can. If that is all… you are dismissed." He gestured to a corner of his desk, where she noticed the other after-action report.
So, Eugen was right; he did speak their tongue. He spoke so fluently and with the confidence of a native-born German. Though she picked up on a slight accent. Bismarck couldn't pinpoint what it was or where it was from, but it gave a subtle spice to his words. She moved forward and placed the reports together, and placed them on top of the bundle of manila folders. He didn't thank her as he went back to re-reading the old requisition forms. Bismarck refused to leave his office, she stood by a chair, watching him. Several long minutes passed before Levesque returned his attention to the golden-blonde. "I said; you're dismissed." He said in English.
"Sir, about the war, if this is about Hoo -" Bismarck started only to be halted by Levesque as he snapped his hand up to stop her.
"Don't!" Levesque barked.
A scant few moments later both could hear the rapid stomp of footsteps. Belfast burst into the room, ready for combat with her rigging activated. A boiler stack was attached to her back, with two metal arms that housed her armament. Each platform possessed two of her triple-barrel 6in. Mk XXIII guns. While an independent arm housed her triple 21in. Torpedo tube launcher. Her armoured gauntlets each had a miniature version of her vessels 4in. Mk XVI dual-purpose guns.
One of which was pointed toward Bismarck's head, while the other made controlled securing sweeps. "Is everything alright Master! Are you safe?" Belfast's voice was laced with concern, as she frantically scanned the area for any other immediate threats. Bismarck for her part stayed silent and deathly still.
Levesque on the other hand, let out a laboured sigh as he shook his head. "Everything is alright Belfast. No need to worry." He said in a calm, disarming manner. He had a morbid suspicion that if it did come to blows between Bismarck and himself, he'd be a red chunky mess by now. So the fact that Belfast could react so fast was beyond commendable. "But I will say; your reaction time is amazing, eh. I'm glad to see I'm in such capable hands. Now please," he said slowly, "allow me to discuss with… Miss Bismarck privately."
Belfast felt her cheeks warm as she looked between Bismarck and her master. It may have been a misunderstanding, but she couldn't fail again. It was bad enough that she lost fellow maids under her care, but to have her master die was far more insulting. Lilac met grey, and he gave her a small reassuring nod. He trusted her. As much as she wanted to stay just in case, she would trust his judgement. She deactivated her rigging and made an apologetic curtsy. "As you wish; my apologies, Master. Please, do summon me if needed. Lady Bismarck." She acknowledged as she gave the two one last parting look before disappearing out of the office.
Bismarck waited a few moments before speaking again, "I would like to -"
"Not now… please." Levesque strained.
"Then at the very least read the reports, and take a break from the forms. You must focus on the current mission as well."
There was another bout of prolonged silence, only being broken by the rotation of the ceiling fan, and the smoulder of his cigarette. Bismarck noticed Levesque's arm shake as let out a weary sigh as his shoulders sagged. He felt exhausted all of a sudden. "Yes. You're right…" He swallowed dryly. "If you're going to stay, have a seat." He gestured to one of the seats in front of him, and she accepted. He watched as she moved with dignity and grace. No move was wasted; even when she crossed her legs there was confidence in her movement.
The two stared at each other again, only for Levesque to use the reports to avoid her glacier-like gaze. Once again silence enveloped the two. Bismarck watched as Levesque's eyes danced along the reports. Subtle features crossed his face: narrowed eyes here, a raised brow there, pursed lips, to the touch of a frown. The look of concentration was admirable. Some time passed until Levesque shook his head slowly. He took one last puff of his smoke and snuffed the cherry in the ashtray.
The captain leaned back in his chair, he tapped his fingers against the desk, deep in thought. "The number of attacks on convoys in the Southeast are increasing." He said suddenly. "The wars in the East Indies and Vichy Indochina have emboldened communist sympathizers and pirates…" He trailed off. Trade routes needed to be protected, but he was under-equipped to do anything of significance. He couldn't do everything at once; It was like juggling while walking on a tightrope. He looked back at the reports, then his grey eyes met Bismarck's blue. "What class of destroyer did Gneisenau sink?"
"Le Fantasque-class, a mass-produced model, Kapitän."
"French…" Levesque murmured. At least it narrowed down where to look. NATO's relations with the Vichy were strenuous at best. But if he could assist them in stabilizing the region, they might be able to lend their hand. If Adams fled to any of the British or Dutch holdings, they would've received reports on his whereabouts long before a year. Indochina had been a mess since the end of the war. With the turnover from the 4th Republic of France, to Vichy France. Then to have Viet Minh communist guerillas declared Vietnam's independence. The country had become an absolute quagmire. What better place to hide or make a pit stop, than a country in turmoil?
It wasn't much, but it was at least a start.
"Still can't believe that Vichy is still around. Or that they managed to get any holdings, eh." Levesque said more to himself than not, but Bismarck nodded slowly in agreement.
"That is 'kansen diplomacy' for you, Kapitän."
Levesque didn't say anything, but let out a humourless laugh. Oh, how Perry would gawk at the mess he helped snowball.
What an interesting world they all lived in.
A/N:
I would like to say first and foremost, thank you to those who have faced and followed The Tempest. It means a lot knowing that it has caught your interest. Also, I would like to give a special thanks to DeltaDestroys01, author of Operation Rumor Mill, for allowing me to use his shipgirl OC Nashville. If you haven't read Operation Rumor Mill yet, I suggest you do give it a look. I know it's not finished, but what has been posted, has been an enjoyable read. It's probably one of my fave Azur Lane fanfics, sure it won't be for everyone, but I think it's still worth taking a look at. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please don't hesitate to contact me. I look forward to seeing you in the next installment of The Tempest.