Today was an exciting day. We'd received some valuable intelligence that gave us a tempting siren target. It was important enough to warrant the formation of a task force out of our ships currently in reserve. Offensive operations were uncommon, as we were never sure any information we got our hands on wasn't intentionally given to us by the sirens. That was frustratingly common. Still, I was optimistic, despite my lack of rest.

I walked the hall down to one of our briefing rooms. I was a little bit early, but didn't have anything else to do. Usually, I just played games on my phone until the meeting started. I did hear some commotion coming from one of the empty conference rooms, though. It was the one that ended up being a break room, since conferences between officers of a ship weren't a thing anymore. I went to check on it.

Most of the table was taken over by a laminated canvas with a hexagonal grip printed onto it. There were some miniature characters standing on it and populating some crude drawings in dry-erase marker. Papers, snacks, drinks, and dice of every size, shape, and color were strewn about the surface. Sitting at the table were Erebus, Jamaica, Z36, Helena, and surprisingly, Cleveland and Sheffield. There were a few others sitting around outside and spectating, notably Javelin, Cooper, and a few bulins. Z36 clearly seemed to be the one telling the story, as she had the most paperwork and miniatures around her. As I walked in, Cleveland asked, "So, just how big is this giant? Are we talking like a house, or an elephant, or…"

Z36 said, "See your characters?"

Cleveland replied, "Yeah?"

Z36 climbed up and stood on the table. "This is how big the giant is."

Jamaica asked, "Has it seen us?"

The destroyer dropped a twenty-sided die onto the table and looked at it. "Nope, not yet."

I walked over to the vending machine and deposited a few coins in it. Of course, my bag of chips jammed inside. I opened the front of the machine and retrieved it. That's right, the window of the vending machine had been removed and replaced with a plexiglass panel with hinges. No, it was not locked. Yes, we all still paid for our snacks. The machine ended up jamming so much, the window had been broken by the more emotional members of the harbor. After the third time replacing the glass, we all decided to put a door there. You might be thinking that this openly invited petty thievery, but I could feel the security camera behind me. Non-prank theft was very difficult here because the eye of Akashi was always watching. If she found the culprit, punishment wouldn't be immediate or direct, but it would be devastatingly inconvenient.

I actually liked to participate in tabletop games, but I was just busy. This restricted me to occasionally playing the role of some NPC's. I thought they were an excellent pastime that let the ships do some creative venting and live out some fantasies without the risk of assault charges. It was also relatively inexpensive compared to video games, with Long Island's several thousand dollar gaming rig as an example. Except for the books. They punched an unexpectedly large hole in everyone's wallet, unless some individual managed to come across PDF scans of the book online and downloaded them. I swear, piracy was rampant around here. At least Jean Bart was open about it. I doubt there was a single thing on her laptop that she actually paid for.

I munched on the chips and watched the game for a little while. After a few minutes, I sidled over to Cooper and said, "How's it going Cooper?"

She turned to me and replied, "Hey Commander. I'm just sitting and enjoying my shore leave."

"Yeah, that's pretty awesome. It's good to get some last few minutes of enjoyment in before you head out to your task force."

She was confused. "My what?"

"You know, your task force. The one I sent you a message about a few days ago. The really important one, which will be one of our first true offensives against the sirens. The one with a lot of really important details you had to know before the briefing on it in half an hour. The one where we can't afford to screw up. That one."

Her face gradually turned to one of blind panic as she grasped the hint. "Wow, Commander! That sure sounds important and I'll totally be in the place where it's supposed to be on time! I suddenly have to go to the bathroom! Bye!" In a blur of motion, she blasted to the other side of the room and used the side of the door frame as a vertical monkeybar to propel her down the hall.

Javelin remarked, "You know she's more than a little scatterbrained. It's difficult for her because that's just how she is. There's no need getting mad at it."

I sighed. "I know. I'm not mad. I also know I can't keep giving her mulligans. If I keep forgiving and forgiving, she'll never learn and be better. I'm sure both I and she want her to be someone that can be depended on. I mean, what if the sirens launch kitty cats at us and she gets distracted?" I chuckled.

Javelin returned her gaze to the game. "I suppose you're right. Still, you do look rather disheveled. Did you sleep well?"

"I had trouble going to sleep. Something kept waking me up, but I don't know what it was."

"Jamaica said she saw you coming from the Iron Blood dorms really early in the morning. I also heard from South Dakota that you dismissed her from guard duty last evening."

"Yeah. I saw her outside and felt bad. You know how it is. I don't want to let me being a high-ranking officer get to my head, so I took her place for the night shift. I ended up falling asleep, so I guess I'm not a very good MP, am I?" I chuckled again.

"Well, that's very noble of you commander."

"Oh yeah… noble."

Fast forward half an hour and I was in the briefing room, prepping myself. I really do care about them all, and none of them really get on my nerves too much. I want them to succeed, and I want to be the one they look to when they want to succeed. But, you can't have success without the succ, and I had to put on my officer character. It was a sort of tough love, I guess, almost like a father figure. Thinking about that made me realize nobody here had any sort of parents, myself included. Maybe that's why we all got together so well. We all were subconsciously making up for all of that lost affection with each other. Maybe that's why we were all awkward about it, frequently going either too hot or too cold in either direction. I was thinking of this when the door opened.

They all arrived at the briefing room exactly on time. Yorktown and Haruna were the only capital ships in this force and were in command. They were the first through the doorway. Portland and Columbia came next. Continuing down the line of tonnage, the destroyers walked in. They were: Icarus, Downes, Laffey, and Cooper. U-73 was last through the door and shut it behind her.

Haruna barked, "Commander in room!" They all stood at attention. I waved my hand and said, "At ease. Sit down."

They all sat down quickly and I began, "Hope you enjoyed your shore leave, because you're gonna need some good memories to keep with you."

I cleared my throat. "Two days ago, at 1800 hours, one of our satellites detected an unusual burst of radiation coming to the east of Palau. A stealth reconnaissance plane from Colonia was sent." I paused.

"They found something very interesting. They found an island where one shouldn't have been. It was obscured by a heavy, but very artificial haze. The only way the island could've been found was if it was directly in your path, or you were intentionally looking for it. I'll display some of the images our plane took up here on the board. Based upon it's architecture and huge-ass antenna on top of the main building, command believes this island to be a siren information relay post. Judging by the lack of change in activity there, we also believe they aren't aware we know of their little relay base. Don't worry about mirror seas. That area was swept a long time ago, and it's probably why the sirens are using it."

"Your objectives are as such: First, U-73 will provide submerged reconnaissance of the island and surrounding waters with a detachment of five other mass-produced submarines. Each destroyer here will command four other mass-produced of their kind, and then are to sweep for possible mines and eliminate any enemy submarines. This is where things will get interesting."

"At Guam, you will meet up with an amphibious ready group and escort them to the island, provide shore bombardment, air support, and will hold your position. Now, you're probably thinking, 'Commander, won't they set off the alarm and suddenly we'll be swimming in siren ships?'. You are very correct, which is why you will also be joined by Gascogne and Roon. Both of them will serve to jam all wireless communications, and by all I mean all. You will have to resort to morse code, as this will be a night operation."

"Roon can take care of herself, but Gascogne will also serve a second purpose. Considering the sheer amount of data we're going to be handling and we won't have all day to transmit it, she is the only mobile unit capable of handling and storing that much information. We're going to run a massive data cable between her and the base. Protecting her is the top priority, before, during, and after the operation. As an incentive to those who might feel negatively to a Vichyan ship, I will be commanding onboard her. The only time any of you get to relax is when she moors back at this island."

"The amount of time for you to secure the waters will be very short, and those marines are not going to wait for you. They will land on the beach with the cable, find the data storage, and hook it up to Gascogne. We know very little of siren technology, but with some help from Sakura and Iron Blood, we can interface with it and perform a simple download. What's done with the information isn't our problem."

"You will hit fast and hard. Don't give them a moment to breathe because the moment you fire the first shot, the clock is ticking. You can bet the sirens will start to get suspicious when that compound doesn't phone home every now and then. Don't even think about your killcount, and don't try to put on any sort of flair and special moves, or as San Diego likes to put it, "Sparkle". Follow your orders. Nothing more, nothing less. If you try something and break formation, you'll start to feel a funny feeling in your pants. That will be my boot up your ass. If you screw up, tell your superior and as always, don't panic. Don't try to impress me, because all I see are after-action reports. I can't stand save-asses and I won't abide kiss-asses. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Okay. I wish you all the best of luck, fair winds and following seas, and know that I'll be keeping an eye on you."

An hour later, the task force exited the port and we were on our way. The air was humid from the previous storm, but it was a beautiful day otherwise. It almost seemed ominous, but that was just my paranoid brain at work. I opened the bridge door and looked at all of the equipment. They really spared no expense when it came to Gascogne's electronics. Some of it seemed to be almost the stuff of science fiction. I placed my rifle on a table.

Gascogne was suddenly next to me. She didn't intentionally sneak up on me, nor was she even quiet. The girl just had zero presence. People she spoke to often got startled. She asked, "Query: Why do you bring that weapon with you during this operation? It is incredibly unlikely we will encounter a vessel it is capable of penetrating, considering sirens' composite armor plating."

"I do it because I want to give myself at least the feeling of contribution. I don't like just standing around all stiff and issuing orders. Besides, we have crates upon crates of .50-cal in storage anyway. Nobody's going to notice if a few rounds are skimmed off the top. It also doubles as a spyglass."

"Wearied question: Have you ever hit anything with it?"

"Yes, I've clubbed over the head the last thirty manjuus who've asked that same question. Also yes, I use it to taunt sirens by shooting them in the face. I'm not expecting to do any damage, but it's the annoyance factor that's important."

I sat down in a chair and stared out the window.

"Observation: Our trip will take at least a day, Commander. Shall I put on some music to pass the time?"

I looked up from my phone. "You're only equipped with your standard rigging right now."

"Mocking disclosure: I do not require my specialized rigging to play music. It is only with my equipment that I can weaponize the music."

"Ah. Hey, isn't the band working on a new album right now?"

"Response: Yes, though production has been delayed. Roughly three-quarters of the tracks are considered completed and are pending review. The vocal components, my components, are complete, however."

"Well, since we've got the time, why not look them over? Care to give me a sneak-peek?"

"Statement: The tracks are not yet complete, and I feel unworthy to play in front of you."

"Why not? The band does amazing things for keeping up morale and culture on the island. I'm not gonna be super hard on a track because I know it's not done yet. Can't be embarrassed of a song you're gonna publish eventually, because you know what it means to everybody."

"Correction: That is true, but I do not make them simply for everyone. I also make them for you. You are also a member of the audience, and I consider you to be worth more than the average listener."

The console on the bridge illuminated and beeped, reporting a thermal irregularity in the engine room. Gascogne quickly glanced toward the console, and it immediately shut up.

I continued, "I… I'm flattered, but I want to help you. I really want to help you make something you're proud of. That, and I can't think of anything else to do for this journey."

"Concession: Well, I suppose we could review something. Specifically, the synchronicity between the lead guitar and vocals on track number five. Now, I suggested…"

Much later, the band would be greatly annoyed that the songs they'd been practicing were suddenly completely different. Admiral Hipper would especially challenge the necessity of my beatboxing in their third track. Cleveland thought it was a good idea, Akagi would support any song that included any sound I made(regardless of it's origin), and that resulted in an argument. Ironically, this remixing would result in greater delays, but they all felt the quality of the album had been improved as a whole.

We met up in Guam to see the amphibious force escorted by Chapayev and some other ships. She left them to us and met me on the main deck to discuss things.

She stood on the deck, illuminated by a cloudless sky. Her hair was the same color as it, yet also was more disheveled than usual. Beads of sweat occasionally ran down her forehead, and she was forced to wipe them away with a handkerchief. I grabbed a towel out of my pocket and handed it to her. I always kept a towel with me because a book I read told me to.

She sighed and said, "Thank you, commander. This one was nearly spent."

We both looked each other dead in the eyes for a few seconds.

She frowned. "Don't say it."

I grinned.

"It wasn't funny the first time, nor the second, nor the tenth."

I asked, "Lovely day isn't it?"

This started her off into a little tirade. "You are all crazy to even be going outside in this heat! If temperatures came even close to this up north, it would be a national emergency. I'm shocked your brains haven't boiled away by now."

"I'm shocked you haven't melted."

She tugged at her collar. "Don't bet against it. This is even my warm-weather clothes. Uniform, skirt, tights, that's it. I even undid a few buttons for you, but I'm still going to bake."

"I appreciate that you've gone through so much for me. Gascogne's bridge has air conditioning if you're about to suffer a stroke, but she might take offense at you dripping everywhere. That being said, I don't think you have anything else to do. Want to join us in the raid? It'll be good fun."

She pulled out a bottle of water from somewhere and took a gulp. "Yes, that would be nice. More heat. Well, if I'm going to participate, would you like to join me in a little pre-battle superstition of ours up north?"

"What is it?"

"It's fairly simple. We do it before any major conflict. Each person confesses one wish. Just one, and we vow to keep that wish in mind when we fight."

"Looks like you're only talking to me. Are we going to do this with everyone?"

"No. That would take too much time, and your goal is the only one I really want to hear."

"Oh, thank you. Well… I have to think about it for a minute."

I thought for some time, then said, "I really started noticing it after starting to plan this raid. The sirens always seemed to be overwhelming in technology and fleet power, yet never overran us. I always felt like we were being toyed with, but now I feel like we're really striking back; like we're about to earn some respect. That's what I really wish for. I want something, anything, to tell me we have a fighting chance at this."

Chapayev seemed happy, and said, "That's a very noble desire. Mine is embarrassingly much simpler."

"Don't say that. Sometimes those are the best ones."

She touched her mouth and said, "You flatter me, commander. Well, all I've ever truly known is war, and I never really knew what I wanted for a long time. I didn't know what to wish for. Recently, I've done some reading. Don't laugh, because I know you're from the Union."

I tightened my lips and said, "Never. What is it?"

Her face got whimsical. "I would like to go to Montana, maybe live there for some time. I would like to marry someone and raise rabbits. Oh, and I would like to own a 'pickup truck', as Hornet likes to call it. Maybe even I will have a… er… What is it called? Oh, a 'recreational vehicle'. I would drive from state to state in it. Do they let you do that in the Union?"

"I suppose they do."

"Yes. In winter, I will go to Arizona. Minnesota is always talking about it, despite being named after another state entirely. Actually, I think I may need two husbands."

I mockingly said, "Oh, at least."

"There. That is my wish."

"I wouldn't call it noble, but it's one I think it's worthy of working towards."

The LCU's moved into formation and we moved out to the island that probably was still there. If everything went as planned, the submarine group would arrive a half a day beforehand and do their job of spotting. At the same time, Roon and Gascogne would move to the north and south of the island and jam communication. After that, there would be radio silence. We'd only have a stopwatch for coordination and the hope that everyone was where they were supposed to be. A few hours before zero-hour, destroyers would stealthily minesweep, screen for submarines, and try to opportunistically pick off any capital ships with torpedoes. Night would set in, and not much later, all guns and aircraft would turn their sights to the island, and blast it to hell. We weren't worried about damage to sensitive data. We all knew full well that siren strongholds could take it. Bombardment finished, the marines would... well, the rest of it is in the briefing.

All we had to do is not screw it up.

Chapayev must've sensed my tension and placed a hand on my shoulder. She calmly said, "No pressure. Worry will only harm you. Instead, think about how you can secure victory, rather than imagine the ways we could be defeated." She tightened her grip around my collar bone and massaged a pressure point. I felt both physically and mentally better. She asked, "Perhaps this would be a good point to encourage others who are feeling nervous?"

Yeah, that was a good idea. I found a radio and switched it on. I could've gone on about glory, honor, defending the homeland, attacking an evil invader, or the definition of heroism. Nope. Instead, I hit a colossal writer's block with a live broadcast. I realized I was leaving dead air, so I waffled, "Uhhhhh, friendship and evil aliens and… stuff. Get 'em. That's all."

I swear, I could hear the laughter even from the submarines.