Meanwhile, back at home, Amazon was enjoying herself in her dorm. She'd heard rumors that there was some sort of new information found, and tensions were rising. Whatever. She had no time for petty gossip. She was busy with important things, like tossing up erasers and skewering them with her saber mid-air. These were the only things she could do alone, because she had a character to maintain. Every now and then, she did enjoy her breaks where she could let her hair down and fantasize about things.

Suddenly, she heard three sets of heavy boots stomping down the hallway. That was weird. Royal Navy ships, even if they did choose to wear heavy footwear, were always more subtle. These steps seemed so loud, it was almost like they wanted to be heard. All of the other nations except Sakura were so pompous, it could be any but them. As the steps got closer, she heard the swishing noises of an unnecessary amount of leather moving. Bugger, not them.

There was a knock on the door, then "Guten abend, may I please come in?" Amazon answered, "Of course."

First to enter was Gneisenau, followed by her grizzled sister, Scharnhorst. Bringing up the rear was Deutschland, brandishing a sadistic grin. Truth be told, Amazon really didn't have much experience being around other ships of larger tonnage. She would never admit this, but she was more than a little scared of vessels larger than a destroyer. Bring two experienced battleships and a cruiser into an enclosed space, and this became a situation that really tested her fortitude. Of course, Gneisenau said, "May I come in?" and not "May we come in?", implying it was just her. However, Amazon nervously chuckled and supposed that was just how Iron Blood worked.

Scharnhorst asked what was funny.

Amazon tried her best to deal with an increasing cold sweat. "Oh, I was just thinking of something. What… what can I help you three with today?"

Scharnhorst and Deutschland both backed away. The former leaned against the wall and did her best impression of a stone sculpture. The latter stood in the doorway and played with her hands. Both of them, while confident in themselves, recognized Gneisenau's much greater skill with words. She began, "I heard you are quite the chivalrous duelist. I've seen you certainly hold your own and then some during exercises, especially since your retrofit gave your sword more fiery properties."

It took enormous amounts of effort to stop her voice from shaking, but Amazon replied, "Thank you. I always enjoy proving myself, even if most of my deployments are escort duty. My sword always stays just as sharp as me, after all."

"Oh well. I don't believe history repeats itself, but it does rhyme. Perhaps that is your fate. There is no shame in convoy duty. It may not have a lot of potential glory, but we all understand that such jobs are critical. I always appreciated the ways of the blade, but it's just never been my style. I, like my sister, prefer to take care of things from a distance."

"Y-y-yes. I noticed you're wearing a new pair of goggles on. I suppose they would come in handy during that."

Gneisenau suddenly became distracted and said, "Yes, they were a gift from the commander. It was something I…" Her eyes became distant. Scharnhorst broke from her pose and glanced at her sister. Gneisenau caught her eye and quickly returned to reality.

"Well, that's another thing entirely."

Amazon remarked, "I doubt all three of you came to do small talk about swords and eyesight."

"Very good. Straight and to the point. I like that. You see, one of the unspoken jobs of a battleship(and a carrier), is managing the other ships. They look up to us for standards, morals, bravery, and leadership. Admittedly, I am rather subdued and not a natural leader when it comes to these things, but I still have the awareness. Word travels fast in the Iron Blood, and decisions are made even faster. We've become aware of a little revelation concerning ourselves as ships. Have you heard?"

Amazon said, "No, I haven't."

"Oh, excellent. This makes things much easier."

"Will you tell me what it is?"

"No. I won't. I suppose your compatriots will tell you when they feel like it. That being said, it's rather critical information. We at Iron Blood tend to view ourselves as more of a collective, especially compared to the loose cannons over at the Union. We've come to a decision that this little piece of information is important enough that it may destabilize the current command structure. The commander is very capable of keeping things together, but he can't be everywhere at once, especially since this important little fact involves him. People would be selfishly running around with their own agendas, and that would just be chaos. We can't have that with a war going on."

Amazon quipped, "How do you know Iron Blood is so immune?"

Gneisenau sighed, "I wouldn't worry about that. The folk of the Iron Blood stick together, and that's what makes us stronger. We're used to being outnumbered. If we want something, we all go for it as one."

Amazon shook a little.

"That being said, we recognize we can't do everything ourselves, so we always offer our hand in cooperation."

"And… how would that go?"

"Tumultuous times may be ahead, and we need to know who we can count on through them. We need to know who can be a reliable sub… friend. We need reasonable people who can help us out for reasonable things when we need them, and would be willing to accept some reasonable compensation for them."

"How do you decide that?"

"I'm so glad you asked! Deutschland, the books, please."

The cruiser giggled and handed a pair of pocketbooks over.

"Here, we have two books: A white book and a black book. The white book contains people who want to help keep the order of this port. Consider it like a… a friends list. A social media friends list, like on your Juustagram. The white book has many names in it. For example, we have Norfolk, Omaha, Beagle, Juno… oh Juno's your friend, isn't she?"

"I… She is."

"The black book has the names of bitter and uncooperative souls who don't want to work toward the greater good. And, would you look at that. The book is empty! It's almost enough to restore your faith in humanity. With that said…" She procured a pen and clicked it, which had the effect of a gunshot in the room. "Which book would you like to have your name in? No pressure, of course."

Amazon shuddered. She wasn't used to the presence of Axis ships, let alone this close. Was this a betrayal? The maids would string her up on a flagpole by her underwear if the word "treason" was even whispered. Maybe this was actually a good thing. After all, they were all in a coalition now. That meant they had to cooperate. The idea gave her great discomfort, but perhaps this was burying the hatchet.

Also perhaps, this was just her trying to convince herself that just being in Iron Blood's literal good books and letting them go away satisfied wasn't so bad. Eventually, she said, "Sure. I'd be happy to help."

Gneisenau smiled and said, "Excellent. I knew you were a smart one."

Amazon whispered to herself, "Brave, too."

"And I'm sure opportunities will come. I hope you have a pleasant day." The three of them then walked out the door and shut it behind them. As the heavy boots grew more distant in the hallway, Scharnhorst's baritone voice commented, "Tun die Mägde alles für sie?"

Gneisenau chuckled, and said, "Ja, ich würde mich nicht wundern, wenn das so wäre."

Deutschland disappointedly groaned, "Ich bin überrascht, dass es nicht länger gedauert hat." They all laughed at that.

Amazon bit her nails. She knew they were mocking her. There were too many languages running around this port. She wondered if one of the maids would teach her.

[===========]

Half a day out of the island, I radioed U-73. "This is the commander. What do you see?"

A pause, then U-73 answered, "Hey. We've been sneaking around for a while, and we've seen some stuff. First off, only the eastern half of the island has buildings on it. We've only seen three major gun batteries, and they've got an airstrip on the northeastern corner of the island." She listed out the coordinates of their locations and I made notes of them to relay.

Reviewing the plane images, I realized that the island was fairly flat, unlike most of the other ones nearby, which were either reefs or places the result of volcanic activity. I'd spent a lot of time in the south Pacific, and I'd come to distinguish it's islands. This chunk of land didn't belong here. It just looked like a circle of grass. I asked, "Any naval forces?"

"There's a cruiser and three destroyers moored at the docks here. We couldn't find any drydocks. We also spotted another destroyer making patrols, but it's likely there's more out there. No submarine activity."

I asked the important question: "Any sirens?"

"No sirens."

That could either be great or horrible. The airstrip did worry me, though. There could be a lot of naval bombers or fighters under that hanger roof. All we had for air superiority was Yorktown and a few from Colonia. Roon and Gascogne were a few hours out, forced back in the timetable to avoid a large squall.

U-73 asked, "What about the ships at the docks? They're just sitting ducks. We could torpedo them before they make way."

That was a good idea. So far, the only anti-submarine the island had were the patrolling ships. I said, "Wait for the radio silence. As soon as it goes dead, do it. I'll tell the destroyers. We'll lose our surprise after that, but it'll be worth it. I'll tell everyone else they'll be ready for us."

Onboard Gascogne, we stayed just outside of the island's horizon. We were in position just as the sun set. Roon was faster than us, so she probably was at the southern end of the island waiting for the signal. I could practically hear her shivering with anticipation. Eventually, my alarm went off. I told Gascogne, "Well, it's time. Start jamming."

There was a small beep from the console. I stood there for a second, then asked, "Did… did you do it?"

"Answer: Yes. All wireless communication has been jammed."

"Oh. I thought it'd be more dramatic, like I'd get a funny feeling in my head or something."

A few minutes later, Gasogne reported a thermal irregularity coming from the southeast. I checked with the binoculars and saw a pillar of flame coming from the docked cruiser. Evidently, the fuel reserves must've ignited from the torpedoes. Did siren ships run on combustion, though? Were they all electrically powered? I forgot. At least that pyre would serve as a flare to everyone else that the attack was on. Only Icarus and Laffey's groups were visible.

The distant percussive noises were nerve-wracking. The gaps of silence were worse. The only new report was that Roon had encountered a patrol group and only signaled Chapayev for aid after moving toward the enemy at flank speed. I silently swore that she'd pay if she got her jammer destroyed. Speaking of…

"Alert: Commander, I am detecting hostile attempts at radar rangefinding toward this vessel."

"I thought the jammer was active."

"Reply: Yes, but the shore station is randomly switching frequencies."

"Barrage jam. Use the carcinotron. Shut it all down."

"Warning: Being a source of interference may also inadvertently reveal our position, if they are equipped with such technology to detect us."

A green laser point suddenly appeared on the side of Gascogne's hull, answering that question.

"Correction: They have such technology. If we continue transmitting interference, it will aid them in tracking us." I noticed the briefest moments of hesitation from her, almost fear.

I also felt an immediate cold sweat. "But if we don't, then they can call the entire siren navy for help. We can't let them do that. Full speed, load bunker-busting shells, get rangefinding to find that radar station."

"Notification: Understood. Ballistic calculations complete. Ready to bombard."

"Give 'em hell. Fire at will."

"Confirmation: By your command."

I heard the noises and saw the flashes of some of the destroyers firing against the shore batteries. I also saw flashes of the bunker closest to us opening fire. It didn't take much deduction to guess who they were shooting at.

Gascogne said, "System notification: Adjusting reactive armor to energy-based projectiles."

Funny thing about siren shells is that you can easily see them coming. As the volley reached it's apogee, I realized how long it'd been since I'd personally been in combat with the sirens. I looked up at the incandescent purple shells in the sky, said "Eh, shit.", and walked inside, slamming the door behind me.

[============]

Prinz Eugen groggily walked down the dimly-lit corridor. It was way too late for this, but the worst things always happened at the worst times. She didn't have the time to put her uniform on, only a shirt and gym shorts. Still, she had a responsibility to her friend. Even if she wasn't her friend, she was someone in desperate need of comfort. In the past, Eugen believed that people weren't worth the effort to help, as that help would only serve to dig them a bigger hole. Recent times and more than a little received help had broken that cynicism, at least a little bit.

Eugen opened the door to the port tavern, because it's not a port if it doesn't have one. She'd received a message that someone needed a little help in there. There were two individuals inside. All of the lights had been shut off, save for the overheads at the bar. A very confused and nervous Kagerou served as barkeep. She gave Eugen an expression of desperation. Eugen motioned to the side door. With surprising grace and stealth, Kagerou slunk from behind the counter and out the door without making a sound.

The other person in the building was a hatless Bismarck. She was hunched over the bar with her hand in her face. There were no spooky visual effects, but she just looked miserable. Eugen sat down on the stool next to her. The only things on the bar were a glass and a bottle of cheap whiskey, but it seems the glass had been abandoned some time ago. Bismarck didn't bother saying hello, she just remarked, "They're out of my favorite stuff, so I'm stuck with this Union swill."

Eugen replied, "It's a pretty color. So, what troubles you tonight?"

Bismarck removed her hand from her face and fumbled, "I feel… I feel… Wow, do I feel. In fact that's it. I'm feeling things. I've spent all this time not concerning myself with it. As soon as I let a little through, it all just… like a dam bursting."

"Well, how do you feel?"

"Awful. Helpless."

"Why?"

"I was actually thinking about that. It's kind of like sailors' wives. Somebody you care about is out… somewhere. You don't know. Maybe he'll come back. Maybe he won't. Either way, you can't change anything about it. Difference is that I used to not care, but now that I do, I just can't handle it. It's embarrassing. I'm supposed to be… I'm supposed to be a lot of things. I'm supposed to be stoic, mighty, all of that. In fact, I am those things. That's why everyone looks up to me."

"And now?"

"I feel really, really small. I don't have any control when it really counts. I asked, but I couldn't go on the mission."

Eugen said, "That's because you have to lead combat exercises here."

Bismarck replied, "I didn't want to do that, so I gave it to Nelson for a bit. I need to sort this out, first."

"Perhaps we could take this somewhere else, like for a walk."

"I don't feel like it."

"You look like you don't feel like doing anything right now."

"You're right about that. I… I can't keep doing this. I can't keep up the image the same way I used to. It's not working anymore. I haven't relied on anything before, and I didn't know I was until recently. Once I realized it, I started looking backward on how far this went, and it just kept going. I don't know what's going on with me. I hate it."

Eugen replied, "Don't hate it. If you do, then you're going to start directing it at yourself, and that's never good. You just don't understand it. There's no shame in that. Nobody's ever told you about this, and there's no shame in being confused."

"I was the one everyone was supposed to come to! And people did! I took pride in that! Now, I'm the one with the questions. I've invested part of myself in a person for the first time, and I put way too much into him! He's the closest thing I have to something more than a friend. The closest thing to anything, really, aside from you, Eugen."

Eugen remarked, "I'd like to think I'm your friend. There's always Tirpitz."

"She's my sister; Nice, but often distant. But you and him, you're different."

"Would you say special?"

"That's the word. He's… I don't know. You look at him and everything else goes out of focus. Of course, I didn't know what it was until a few days ago. Now that I do, it's all come at once. He just pulls things together that really shouldn't work on paper, but they do. I feel like without him, everything here would just fall apart. Scheiße, I don't know if he's dead and I'm already halfway to falling apart. Ugh, I'm such a girl!" She beat the granite countertop with her fist. Eugen noticed a few tears forming.

"Look, I've been saying for years now that it's never healthy to have nobody to talk to. I'm told the top is always a lonely place. Granted, I've never been there, but I get it."

Bismarck glanced at her only friend. "Everything is telling me to get over it, but I can't. I can't stand it, and it's only me! Now that all bets are off after the brass decided to send that important little note encouraging them to… you know with him, I'm going to get left behind. All of the people who have it together are just going to surge ahead without me. Then I'll be alone again. I always have been. Just like my sister. Sail alone, sink alone. The only one like me is out, maybe dying right now."

Eugen said, "I think the opposite. I think because you're going through this now, you might just be ahead of everyone else. It might not feel like it, but that might be true."

The battleship paused and said, "You're right. It doesn't feel at all like it."

The escort replied, "He will return."

"He will return?"

"He always has. There's no difference now."

"The difference is that him not returning sounds just too horrible to think about."

"He's smart. He'll pull through the same as he always has. Keep in mind, he survived you twice now. First in the Atlantic, and the second in his office. Was that battle where it started?"

"That's what put him in my mind. He was the first to stand up to me, and I guess that's what you mean by special. He was the first enemy that gave me pause and question myself. He was the first who didn't just go 'Jawohl!' to everything I said. That piqued my curiosity. The second time was things really started off. That ended up awakening something more… fundamental."

Eugen giggled again, "You mean the heavy breathing, suddenly your voice goes up an octave, and suddenly everything he says is important."

"Something like that."

"Then tell him that."

"I have! Sort of."

"Sort of isn't good enough. If you don't make a run for it, you really will fall behind. Believe me, lines are quietly being drawn."

Bismarck exhaled and said, "That doesn't help." Eugen continued, "So this isn't any time to get depressed. He will come back, and if you really care, you'll tell him what's going on with you."

"But I barely understand what's going on with me." She sighed. "But I will. Meanwhile, can you just sit with me for a bit?"

"Just sit?"

"Please. No words. Just keep me company while I think."

Eugen saluted and said, "Jawohl!" They both laughed, and then enjoyed the rest of the night. The room smelled of greasy food, cheap booze, and angst, but it was exactly what Bismarck wanted. For at least the night, two lonely people enjoyed each others' company, comforted by the fact that at least one person understood how they felt.

[===========]

Meanwhile, the Union's weekly firepit roast had come to a close an hour ago, but one of the participants remained. Enterprise was busy introspecting while looking at the red coals. Marshmallows, hot dogs, and various other greasy items were roasted upon this fire, but she was interested in only staring at the flames. The wind was chilly and the folding chair had seen better days, but the occasional snapping and pulsing of the coals had a hypnotic effect. She stared and thought about herself for a while. She wasn't used to doing that. There really didn't seem to be much point and there was nobody to talk to about it. Well, save one. This new variable threw her for a loop. She'd actually thought about what she wanted to do outside of naval work, and produced a piece of loose leaf paper to look at. The sheet was crumpled, contained many erasings, and a chaotic bullet point system, but it was hard work. It took a lot to decide maybe to take up the saxophone. She planned to show it to the commander, because she took pride in it. Assuming, of course, he came back.

He had to. He'd always come back before. Recently, Enterprise had been looking back on just how much of an impact he'd had on the port at large. She concluded that the whole place wouldn't be possible without his sheer presence alone. Without the goofy jokes or his permissiveness to hijinks, it'd be a lot more boring. He let everyone's personality come out and dealt with that as best he could. When things got serious, so did he. In short, he cared, and everyone secretly knew it. Enterprise found herself caring as well, and wondered if that would be true if he were gone. She realized that he deserved a lot more credit than he got. Of course, she only came to this after he was gone, but he had to come back. It really was unfortunate that people are really appreciated after they're gone.

[===========]

Gneisenau sat back in her office chair and removed her glasses. It was late and she was distracted. After performing the same mathematical error three times in the same space, she concluded that the document wasn't going to be completed tonight. Things weren't making much sense right now. Behind that professional figure, she admitted she was a little scared. She wasn't the most aggressive type, and despite her obvious strength, worried she might get smothered in the horde. She'd always depended on being a part of some system, no matter how flawed or chaotic it might be. Factions gave her a comfort that at least somebody was working with her. Recently, she encountered somebody she trusted unquestioningly, and couldn't seem to come with a logical reason as to why. This was to the point to where she was willing to lie, cheat, and intimidate to keep him around. Now he was attacking some island somewhere, and all of the planning and brute force she could muster couldn't change a thing about that. She supposed she only started to appreciate it after he was gone.

[===========]

Z23 was also up late. She was in her room, but forgot what she was doing. This was actually kind of embarrassing, because this was at least the third time. One thing she couldn't get out of her mind was where the commander was, which was unknown to her. This ended up giving her great anxiety. Granted, she didn't have to know, and it would make sense for it to be on a need-to-know basis. Not to mention knowing wouldn't make it any better for her. Still, the tension was high enough to tempt her to open the crate of schnapps she won in that card game. She wasn't even planning on using it, maybe selling it. Still, she wanted to go on that… meeting? A date. It was a date; no sense in dancing around it. Of course, all of this mattered on him coming back, but he had to. The opposite seemed inconceivable. As much as it pained her to think of, the commander kept everything here working, probably more than she realized; probably more than he did. Nobody seemed to really appreciate him, until he was… well, you get it.

Investing in anything is a risk, people more so. All of them were realizing that investing themselves was a lot more stressful than they were realizing.