I powered on my desktop computer and stared at the startup screen. With Long Island and Helena's help, I chucked the awful standard-issue Thinkpad for something the two of them built. It was technically a "gaming" PC, as that was the only thing Long Island knew how to make, but it certainly was a step up from my last machine that could barely handle word processing. A stable internet connection on the island was another project of Long Island and Helena, but that was a much tougher problem.

As the machine started, I cracked open a window in my office. The warm days were past us, and a fall overcast stretched all the way to the horizon. I opened my video conference application and inspected the rest of my uniform. I checked my buttons, adjusted my hat, and brushed some dust off my epaulettes.

And would you look at that. A video call for me right at the top of the hour. On time as usual. I accepted the call.

The white bearded and mustached face of the Secretary of the Navy appeared on the screen. Secretary Harris was an overweight and perpetually red faced man that had a jolly aura around him. If I hadn't seen him berate people much fitter than him, I'd have compared him to Santa Claus.

I said, "Good evening, Mr. Harris."

He replied, "And a good evening it is! Well, it's only morning here, but time zones. I was very proud to read your combat summary and report it to Azur Lane. Well done, indeed. The queen herself was present for that session. Imagine that."

"It was an honor to perform it, sir."

"No doubt! Now, since you don't really answer to me anymore, but instead that bickering circle known as Azur Lane, this isn't coming from me personally. However, I am representing them in this debriefing."

"I understand, sir."

He grabbed his reading glasses and cleared his throat. "So, as I understand it, the mission was a resounding success. Not only did you acquire the intelligence in it's entirety, but you also collected many samples of siren technology. Finally, you destroyed the base, denying the asset to the enemy. While Azur Lane can be an ungrateful mistress, I can at least tell you this myself: Job well done. You know, my grandson was in that raid. Did you happen to see him?"

"I didn't sir, but I'm sure he fought bravely. We had only a few casualties."

"Any naval losses?"

"Two mass-produced destroyers and a light cruiser, sir. Columbia took an unlucky citadel hit, but that was the worst damage any warship girl took."

"Ah, yes. The shipgirls. Certainly the wild cards in this navy, aren't they?"

"They continue to surprise me, sir."

"Yes, they do. How's the side wound?"

"Only scar now, sir. It'll fade in time. Roon is no trouble now."

"Good to hear. I'm not the one sharing an island with her, anyway. Or a bed."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"That blasted council almost caught wind of a discrete little package smuggled into the island; a small piece of jewelry. If they'd found out and put two-and-two together about what you pulled over there, your career would be over. I luckily managed to get that report 'lost', but I still covered your ass. Relationships are technically prohibited, but did Mr. Spencer ever call you?"

"The… He did. There is no rule in the navy preventing relationships with the boats themsel-"

"Don't try to wiggle your way out of this, boy. Nobody wants the highest officer on that island to have the 'boatfucker' label on you. Between you and me… I don't care, as long as things don't get out of hand. We really don't need people knowing too much."

"The warship girl program is public information, sir."

"It technically is, but we really don't want to give people ideas. If the public learns about how they're made, then they'll start using it on every damn object in their house. Their cars, their guns, who knows? We can't afford that instability right now, so it's very important that you keep their exposure to just the navy."

"Right."

"Right. So, that means no more viral videos on social media and no more transfer requests."

"What?"

"I'm sending you a link my son sent me."

I checked the chat and opened a social media link. Suddenly, the screen filled with a beach scene with a bonfire and an ocean sunset. The first thing I thought was that the beach looked really familiar. I saw Downes and a group of marines sitting on one side of the bonfire with a cooler of beer between them. On the other side was Jean Bart, sitting on a crate and playing a concertina. I turned up the volume to hear them drunkenly, yet passionately singing Lowlands Away. Sea shanties were one of the few songs that still sounded good when everyone was hammered. While the music was moving, I also noticed an uncomfortable amount of views. I asked, "Do people know?"

Harris answered, "No. Everyone thinks they're normal people, but this sort of attention brings people who like to snoop around."

I realized something, "Wait a minute. Those men are on this island."

"Yes they are. They transferred to be Downes' maintenance crew a few days ago. Sometimes the wheel of bureaucracy gets a little grease. I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

"I don't see every scrap of paper or person that goes around this island."

"I guess I can't expect you to. Regardless, I'm not going to be as blunt as that mad scientist Mr. Spencer, but just do whatever you feel is best for the ships. For science, I guess. In the meantime, do you have the data drives in good condition? Were there any encounters on the return trip?"

"The Pacific was surprisingly calm. Practically a pleasure cruise. We have the data secured on the island here, but we don't have the facilities to process it. We're planning on shipping them to the Union as soon as possible, with your permission."

"Do so. I want an entire task force dedicated to that convoy. While they may be aliens, I'm sure the sirens are familiar with the concept of revenge. I suggest keeping your port on alert for the next few weeks, especially for air raids."

"I'll get right on it. I'll oversee it myself."

"Oh, you won't have time for that. I know you just got back, but you'll be out soon again."

"Where?"

"As an apology for allowing a siren relay base to operate in their waters, the Sakura Empire requested a state visit to restore confidence in their readiness. Since you are the closest high-ranking official and because of your recent victory, you've been chosen. They're planning on hosting a military parade. I hear it will be a hero's welcome."

I thought back to all of the planned meetings with the ships. "I have many sessions upcoming regarding the personality stabilization program. What of them?"

"I know it'll be a letdown for all of you, but those will have to be put on hold. Opinion and trust of Crimson Axis countries is still low, and a familiar face alongside them makes for a nice picture to show the public. We have to think of the big picture first."

"Big picture first, sir."

"Don't be so down. Even I have to admit the islands are gorgeous. Sakura cuisine is very good. I'm a personal fan of their calamari."

"Sakura food tends to upset my stomach."

Harris' expression went stern. "You're going to feel more than just a 'rumbly tummy' if you don't go. You'll be moving with the first carrier division tomorrow, so speak with them."

"I will, sir."

"That will be all. Enjoy yourself, or at least look like you are."

"I will, sir."

I ended the call, reclined in my chair, and sighed. I wanted a break; just a little one. The therapy program was one of the few times command and I agreed on something. Even then, it was my idea to start with. It immediately gets pushed aside when "bigger" issues come along, but that's the navy for you. I didn't disagree with Harris. Relations with Sakura need to be unshakable if we're ever to get out of this stalemate, and them using me in a celebrity visit seemed like the best thing to do at the time. That being said, I felt a much more corrosive stalemate was happening right outside my window.

I said in previous chapters that the shipgirls were debatably not human, but they were absolutely people. Like most people, they need attention and amenities. We were dangerously low on meaningful relationships in this port, to the point where some of us were getting desperate. The biggest example was Bismarck, but that was usually how the girl worked. She wanted no mysteries, even if they were her own. She wanted to get to the bottom of them as fast as possible. I respected her desire to prefer a hard truth over a comfortable lie. I couldn't keep ignoring them. I couldn't keep ignoring myself. I couldn't keep running. This was my port and damn if I wasn't going to do what I wanted on it.

The Fates had a sense of humor, because I heard a pair of heavy boots stomping down the hallway. I'd learned to tell the class of a ship by listening to their stride, and this one was certainly a battleship. The door knocked and I said, "Enter." Bismarck came through the doorway with a binder of papers, reminding me she was still on secretary duty. She said, "How did your talk go?"

Seeing someone who didn't have their hands tied so hard, they were binding me along with them, genuinely warmed me. I said, "It went fine. He's very pleased."

"A pleased superior is always a good thing. How about you? Are you pleased?" She placed the binder on my desk.

"Kind of."

She sat down in the padded chair, crossed her legs, and said, "Speak."

I chucked. "Oh, now I'm on the receiving end. Never thought that would happen."

"The irony is not lost on me. Still, you are a very important man who does not need to deal with personal demons. Speak."

I explained Harris' orders on my state visit to Sakura and my disappointment.

Bismarck said, "Yes, I was looking forward to that. It would have been a nice afternoon."

"To be honest, I was just gonna get some sandwiches and sit on a bench somewhere. I hope you weren't expecting a wine list."

"A wine list on a first date is very ambitious."

"Formally, I want to say it's not a first date, but I guess it is. You guys… You're more than what command thinks you are. I think they really don't know what you are and how to handle you. They just dumped all of you on me and out of sheer luck, it worked out. They treat you like a seaman with enough firepower to destroy a town. I try to tell them, but they don't listen. I often think they don't want to."

"So, what made you start to think we were more?"

"At first, I really didn't think too hard about it. It wasn't until the Roon project that I realized there was more than meets the eye."

"What was special about her?"

"To be honest, I don't know if she is. However, she was the first time I stopped and listened." I described my night with Roon during her construction.

As I went on, Bismarck's expression went into thought. She asked, "That would explain your violent reaction to her betrayal. From what I recall, you had to be restrained numerous times in the hospital. I also recall you wanting to hang her."

"Yeah… I… Not good memories."

"What do you think of her now?"

"Since she was the first time I really understood what you ships are, she still has a place in me. I don't know if it's in the heart, or any other organ. I'll admit I'm still trying to pursue something with her. A part of me feels like she can be a decent person, but just needs discipline."

"Do you think she deserves a chance at redemption?"

"That's the question in a nutshell. I guess thanks to her, I listen to you ships now in more ways than one."

Bismarck asked the important question, "What of me?"

"What of you?"

"What do you think of me?"

"That's a very heavy question."

"I'm a very hea- wait, that sounds awful."

I laughed. As soon as I was able to speak again I said, "I don't know. You've always been pretty distant, but this is a new thing. I'm definitely excited to learn more."

She asked, "What do you think personally? Off the record."

"I'm alone on an island, other than a handful of marines. I'll do whatever the hell I want."

"Excellent. Since the date's been cancelled, I have an idea. How about we patrol the waters around the island this afternoon and tonight? It would also serve to frighten any siren eyes trained on us."

"Sounds good. I'll be at the northern dock."

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

Gascogne also sat in front of a laptop and stared into the camera. Half an hour after my call, she received another from the same person. She clicked the answer button and said, "Greeting: Secretary Harris. It is an honor to speak to you."

Harris replied, "The honor's mine. You personally handled the objective and took some hits in the process. How's the damage?"

"Diagnostic: Superficial, sir. I expect less than a week before repairs are complete. Assumption: I thought the commander normally handled my debriefing after missions."

"Oh yes, you all call him that, don't you? You're right. However, this isn't a debriefing as much as an off-the-record opinion poll."

"Query: My opinion on what or whom, sir?"

"Your 'commander' as you call him. How would you summarize his ability and character for this mission? He travelled on you, as I recall."

"Recollection: He maintained a collected and competent aura the entire time. Orders were issued in a timely manner. He has tactics in mind, but always reserves a space to think of us as well. I would argue he is the only human I know of who truly listens to us."

"Do you consider yourself human?"

"Insight: No, sir. I do not."

"Hm. I see. Speaking of him, he's been throwing our command staff for a loop lately, especially our psychological advisors. He tends to generate a fanatical loyalty to those around him. Our experts reviewed his record with you shipgirls. You lot are more rambunctious than most, yet when orders come from him, they are followed without question. Simply put, the sort of coordination between him and the ships is only possible in an intimate relationship years in the making."

"Note: It has been years, sir."

"True. It has. However, we strongly believe there is more going on. He is accomplishing more than what simply sheer charisma could do alone."

"Theory: Luck, perhaps?"

"I may be half an ocean away from you, but I know that you don't believe in luck. Something's helping him. You've been near him for years now. I can hardly believe you don't have any ideas."

"Recitation: The most elementary and valuable statement in science; the beginning of wisdom is: 'I do not know.' I do not know what that is, mister secretary."

"I thought you were the observant one. I suppose I was wrong."

Gascogne's head twitched slightly and her normally glassy eyes focused. While emoting didn't come naturally to her, I'd come to recognize what little body language she had over the years. This was the expression of a very offended Iris Orthodoxy woman. "Correction: I am observant, but I am not all-comprehending. Observing others' emotions provides a tactical advantage, so I am very good at that. Careful watching of everyone means less of the unexpected and less knives in my back."

Harris raised his eyebrows. "Do you expect a knife coming from my direction, captain? What do you see? I'm curious."

"Statement: I have no expectations of you as of yet, mister secretary. However, there is one emotion I sense from you, despite how well you have covered it: It is fear. Theory: With your previous questions about the commander's unusually potent ability to lead, I have theorized that you are afraid of a possible schism within your military. You put him in command of the warship girl program, back when it was a research branch with little possibility of success and forgot about it. Now, he controls an entire coalition made of significant portions of the world's superpowers' navies; a coalition, the majority of which, is loyal to him and not you. If he suddenly had a disagreement with the council, you would lose the oceans and no coastline would be safe. Summary: Through bureaucratic incompetence and lack of foresight, Azur Lane has unintentionally made someone capable of holding the world at gunpoint, if he so chooses."

A sneer of someone backed into a corner appeared across his face. "Would you choose him over the rest of the world? Think about it. The sirens use the same tactic: Controlling the seas, separating us, and then picking us off one by one. Would you feel nothing doing their job for them? You know that breaking away from Azur Lane would break the very fundamentals which it was founded on?"

"Musing: Definitions can change. Some of those who fly the flag of Azur Lane may have lost it's original meaning, or use it for petty personal gain. Perhaps the question, 'Who or what is Azur Lane?" needs to be asked again."

"I'm sure many hard questions will be asked in the coming times. One more thing, for both of our sakes, I would suggest you keep this conversation to yourself."

There was a pause.

"Did you hear me?"

"Confirmation: Aye, sir."

Harris hung up. Gascogne stared at the blank screen for a minute and pondered her next course of action. It was time to assess the larger strategic picture and make possible preparations. Azur Lane dominated the seas and skies above them. International trade would be impossible, and national markets around the globe would implode. However, all of their supplies, equipment, and fuel was produced on land, which Harris held sway over. Neither side could play the long game, however Gascogne concluded that the odds were not in her favor as to who could hold their breath the longest.

She could keep it to herself, but the idea of appeasement returned many negative emotions. Informing everyone risked word getting out. She had a seat on the table of representatives. She concluded that it would be best to inform them during the next meeting. Perhaps she could call an emergency one. Questioning their loyalty was a dire subject, after all. She sat back up in her chair, activated a VPN, a proxy server, and a few other things for silent running. After that, she began asking the network a few pointed questions.

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

The afternoon sun floated over the horizon. As the days grew shorter, it was possible to watch it from rise to set from the same beach. I brought with me a rolled up blanket and some snacks. As I walked to the dock, the structure of Bismarck's deployed form loomed over me. The evening light illuminated the navy gray paint and a set of flags flying cheerily in the wind. It was getting chilly. I should've brought a jacket.

I walked up the gangplank and saw Bismarck herself sitting in a folding chair on the deck. It looked like she'd brewed herself some hot chocolate. Who knew how long she'd been sitting there and staring toward the port?

"You're late."

"Only a few minutes. I got distracted while packing."

"For the Sakura trip?"

"Yeah."

"I'm thinking about how I can weasel myself into that as well."

I mockingly said, "Don't be clingy."

She stammered a little. "I… I'm not."

"I actually come bearing bad news. Well, mixed news. We've made a few critical breakthroughs in project Odin. We've also finished laying down her keel at the dockyard here and now we're working on the superstructure."

Bismarck was incredulous. "How could that possibly be bad news? Odin is rumored to be an excellent strategist. If she proves worthy enough, Gneisenau said she would be willing to step down from her representative position."

"Yeah, but this phase of the project requires the oversight of the chief commanding officer of the port. That would be me, but since I'll be gone for a bit…"

She continued to be confused. "Why me?"

"You're right under me in the chain of command and this is an Iron Blood project."

"I suppose we are both being dragged to places we do not want to be."

I winced. "I hear Sakura food is nice and there'll be a party waiting for me."

Bismarck put on a smug face. "The Sakura know nothing of true festivities. Do you remember the unification party back in Hamburg?"

"I partied a lot back in college, but they're all nothing compared to that. God, I have a lot of trouble separating real memory from imagination. I only remember half of it, but what I do remember seems too surreal to be true."

"You know, that day was when I started respecting the Union, at least a little."

"Really?"

"Yes. I already respected the Royal Navy, almost to the point where I didn't want to fight them. Most of the Union ships smell of cheeseburgers and narcotics, but they have a spirit."

I laughed. "What do I smell like?"

Without pause, Bismarck said, "Coffee and anxiety."

"That's fair. Either way, I'm sorry you're stuck with that. I hope me being in the same situation makes you feel a little better."

"A little."

Suddenly, I saw movement in the corner of my eye. A small black and white shape darted behind a flak gun. My head naturally turned toward it. Bismarck noticed and turned around to where I was looking. A feline head poked out from behind the machinery. I was surprised. Stray cats were handy on the island, as they kept the rodent population in check. Occasionally, they were adopted as ships' pets(affectionately called "meowfficers" by us). I was surprised to see one onboard Bismarck. She didn't seem like the type for animals.

She remarked, "Oh, that's just Oskar."

The black and white patched cat slowly moved around the corner and walked toward me. I said, "I didn't think you were the type."

Oskar sniffed my legs and performed the usual kitty inspections. Eventually, he dragged his tail across my pants. Bismarck said, "I also didn't think so, but he's been with me since the beginning. He's like family."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Ark Royal does. Shall we continue this on the bridge? I'd like to get underway with our patrol."

"Sounds good to me." Oskar ran ahead of us and out of view.

We spent the afternoon and evening patrolling and performing readiness trials, talking idly all the while. It was a very pleasant time. Bismarck wasn't a delicate person and was aware of this. She excelled in missions where total destruction was the goal, but often retreated when situations required more precision. She wasn't stupid, but often viewed herself as a lumbering brute who had to frequently duck through hatches and rarely physically saw eye to eye with anyone. Combining that with a commanding presence and authoritative voice, made a person who did well captaining a ship, but floundered during small talk without rehearsal. I can't say she was meek. In fact, she had an incredible amount of self-confidence. She just had a fear of breaking things she didn't want broken.

After finishing the nighttime rangefinding drills, we called it a night. I went down to the mess hall, grabbed a hammock from a cabinet, and made my sleeping arrangements. I'm actually a Boy Scouts dropout. I joined because I knew it would look good for my career in the navy, but I left because of disagreements. I never really cared for sleeping bags, but hanging a hammock in the middle of the woods sounded like heaven. I learned soon that I had to spend years ascending the ranks to be allowed to even use them. With today's perspective, I realize that Boy Scout bureaucracy was nothing compared to the Navy, but that's life, I guess.

All of the lights shut off, except for one on the dimmest setting. I threw my blanket over the bare mattress, crawled in, and shut my eyes. The ambient noises of the ship were soothing to me. I was almost asleep when I heard a pair of footsteps behind me. I didn't move. In any unknown place, I'd struggle with fear paralysis, but this time I wasn't. I heard someone set up a hammock right next to mine. They climbed in and we bumped into each other. I finally rolled over to see a bare back and blonde hair tucked under the blanket.

I asked, "Isn't it kind of chilly to be sleeping in the buff?"

Bismarck replied, "I wear underwear like a civilized person. Temperature doesn't really bother me."

"Is this all you want for now?"

"Y...yes. One thing at a time. I do not jump into things well. Even this takes a lot from me. I promise next time we are like this, you will see the other side of me, and much closer."

"I'm looking forward to it. Sorry for asking again, but you're pushing yourself into this, are you?"

She sighed. "No, I really do want this. However, I'm not very good off script. I'm at the end of Eugen's advice. This comes far more naturally to her."

"How much of it was her?"

"She gave me some lines, but mostly advice. I kind of surprised myself with how much came from me."

"Well, don't force yourself into doing something you don't want. In the meantime, I'm sorry we'll both be dragged into things against our will."

"It's a part of reality. In the meantime, I would like to enjoy the silence, if that's fine."

"I can do that."

Falling asleep onboard one of our ships is a mixed bag. Saying my dreams were intense is an understatement. At first, they were just feelings. Pride and victory, followed by intense frustration and abandonment. In the end, I felt myself dragged under the chilly ocean waves by gravity, yet I never suffocated. There I laid on the seabed paralyzed for what felt like forever. Sea life moved all around me as I slowly decayed. I was suddenly dragged back up and an unknown entity offered me a second chance. I don't remember the appearance of the being, but I knew the deal was irresistible. Time passed and I followed my first feelings again, but somehow I was convinced history wouldn't repeat itself.

My first clear image was that of Prinz Eugen. I felt comfortable with her and trusted only her. However, I saw her progressively wither away as well, as I did on the ocean floor. She became sadder and sadder until I finally gathered the will to confront her. Some arguments were had, but she only retreated more. Eventually, she left entirely, and I was overwhelmed by loneliness. I shifted constantly between betrayal, depression, and indignation. I'd lost my only friend. Just before I woke up, I chose a happier path. A new and uncertain one, but one with promise.

I woke up to my eyes swollen and pillow damp with tear stains. It would take me an hour before I could make any coherent thoughts. Before I headed to the showers, I walked over to Bismarck sleeping in her hammock and listened to her deep breaths. I said quietly to her, "I am so, so sorry."

I don't like sleeping on the boats. I feel like I'm breaking their privacy and seeing things I'm not supposed to.

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

Sergeant Grafis was sitting on a wooden crate in the dockyard. The rest of his squadmates were there, as well as Downes and some pirate woman who was crazy good with a concertina. The newcomer was fairly quiet, but seemed to know an endless number of sea shanties, and Grafis considered what it would be like plundering her booty. Judging by her assertiveness, the opposite was equally likely.

He looked up at the silhouette of the moored destroyer. It looked like something out of a history book. He pointed at it and turned to Downes. "So… that's you?"

Downes reclined on cardboard boxes and replied, "Yep."

"But you're also you."

"Yep."

"The fuck?"

"It isn't that hard. You've got your body right here, but the one over there is mine."

"Then what's the one right here?"

"Also mine."

"You've got two? Isn't that a headache?"

"Nah."

Grafis was confused when he was drunk, and now things made even less sense. He reconsidered his recent choice. Working maintenance on a temperate island port wasn't bad. Downes said there were girls all over the island and damn if she wasn't right. The catch was that the boats he would be working on had opinions of their own. He guessed he'd have to pay more attention to his work.

Downes reclined and said, "Welp, time to get to work. There's something wrong with the hydraulics in my front main turret. It's not tracking as fast as it should. The manjuus haven't been able to fix it."

"A man-what?"

"Those yellow animals we see every now and then. They're basically free labor, unless the bulins do stuff."

Grafis got off his crate and said, "Those stupid yellow birds actually do things?"

Downes made a lazy grin. Grafis made his way into the main turret while the rest of the crew fanned out to perform other duties. He crawled into the main turret to check things out. Before he became a marine, he spent much of his time as a small town mechanic. His only illumination was a single commercial light he'd plugged in and hung on a pipe. All of the equipment casted complex shadows around the turret's interior. Grafis noticed the inside of the turret was surprisingly warm and he took off his jacket.

As he inspected the hydraulic pump, he started realizing it shouldn't be this warm in here. The outside was chilly and he'd left the hatch open. The power to the turret was off, so there were no heaters running. He progressively became more and more distracted as time went on. Eventually, the sensation switched from warm to burning. He felt like his clothes were on fire. He threw his shirt off and tossed it across the room, but the burning now moved to his skin. He desperately tried to wipe off whatever it was, but his skin appeared undamaged. It didn't feel like a chemical burn. He'd experienced that before.

He suddenly doubled over as pain shot through his abdomen. He was overwhelmed by a feeling of claustrophobia. He panicked as he felt like the inside of the turret was going to be his tomb. Grafis realized this was partially familiar to him. He grew up in a farmhouse in the middle of the boonies, and the house was haunted, putting it mildly. He was used to unexplained apparitions moving about and manipulating his emotions. This was very similar to now, minus the feeling of flames surrounding him and the pulsing pain coming from his torso. He started flailing about, swinging at invisible enemies all around him. It finally climaxed as he felt like he was being torn in half from the inside. Clear as day, he heard the scream of a plane engine charging at him from behind. In a feat of endurance, he grabbed a socket wrench and hurled it as hard as he could toward the sound.

Everything abruptly returned to normal. The wrench made a clanging noise and reverberated throughout the turret as it struck the bulkhead. Grafis slowly returned from his panic and sat down in a chair. He slumped over and tried to get his heart to return to normal.

Downes sat on the bridge of the ship. The bridge of herself, really. This was the place where she felt she had the most control, but the memories were too strong. She couldn't keep them to herself. She rested on the captain's chair and tried her best to keep it together, but she'd already done the damage. She whispered, "I am so, so sorry."

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

I met the first carrier division very early in the morning. It was still dark and chilly on the pier. I carried my suitcase along the pavement and watched the silhouettes of Akagi and Kaga slowly coming into view. Ever since our raid, there were to be no nighttime lights for fear of a retaliatory air attack. A few smaller humanoid shapes were next to them, most likely Ayanami and Uranami. Further down the pier stood Takao and Atago. They weren't part of the first division, but were also heading to the Sakura capital as well. This trip served several purposes. While it was a formal apology, it also was a chance for the Sakuran people to celebrate victory, as well as to perform some much-needed refitting for all ships involved.

Akagi planned to have her turret placements redesigned and fire suppression systems updated(no comment there). Kaga practically radiated heat, so much so that standing next to her for long periods of time was uncomfortable. It was nice on a chilly fall morning, but it was a flaw that needed to be addressed because it was interfering with her flight deck operations. Both Takao and Atago suffered from top-heaviness, but these were all redesigns that we simply didn't have the facilities for on the island. The destroyers had no complaints and looked forward to seeing their homeland. However, I heard rumors that they were going to be refitted with more "modern" weaponry. It was true that, while our ships were powerful, they were still stuck in the mid-twentieth century, some even further back. They'd seemed to have taken to modern technology well, but still hesitated to incorporate it into themselves.

Two pairs of red and blue eyes turned to me. They shone as they reflected the slightest glimmer of sunrays coming from under the horizon behind me. Akagi greeted me. "Good morning, shikikan. Are you packed?" Kaga gave a silent nod. Atago and Takao noticed me, ended their conversation, and walked toward us. The destroyers decided to move their conversation elsewhere and walked away.

I replied, "I am. I'll be trading one island for another."

Akagi laughed, "Yes, I suppose you will." She gestured to the moored carrier. "Shall we?"

I considered last night's lucid dreams and realized that, of all the individuals on the pier, Akagi's head was the one I wanted to be in the least. I said, "The commander of Azur Lane and the co-strategist of the Sakura Empire in one ship? That would be a prime target for enemy bombers. Perhaps-" I turned to Kaga.

She lifted her hand dismissively and said, "My crew decks have very little armor protection, and I have some issues with fuel vapors accumulating in there, as well as the flight deck. Travelling aboard me would be inadvisable."

I facepalmed. Kaga had fuel fumes in her flight deck and crew quarters and was only telling me of this now. I was about to say something when Takao and Atago came into speaking distance. Atago said, "You're finally here! This is going to be a wonderful trip. I can just feel it!" Takao and Kaga subtly moved next to each other and out of the conversation circle. They both glanced at each other, probably realizing this was not the sort of thing for them.

Atago was perpetually happy as ever. Akagi's positive nature always seemed calculated and she often took enjoyment in things most people would find disturbing. She also seemed to be a gigantic fuzzball of sexual tension who took it out on whoever was nearest. Usually this was Kaga, who took it in an uncharacteristic mixture of stride and complacency. Atago continued, "As the most armored vessel in this fleet, I invite you to come aboard. You'd like for Atago to keep you safe, wouldn't you?"

Atago's psyche seemed more pleasant, but looks could be deceiving. She smothered me in a hug and said, "I heard about your big raid and I was so worried you'd get hurt! I knew you'd win, but seeing you safe and sound is such a relief."

I wanted to give thanks, but all I could produce was: "Mmmmph." I couldn't see Akagi, but I was sure she was not pleased. While this was happening, Kaga quietly asked Takao, "So, how is the technique training going?" Takao said, "Very well. I've actually been experimenting with a talwar recently. Jean Bart has also lent me her cutlass a few times." Kaga raised her eyebrows and said, "It seems you are opening yourself up to the rest of the world." Takao chucked, "I guess I am. It's amazing what they're doing with composite materials these days." Kaga nodded.

Akagi resisted grinding her teeth and said, "It would be more appropriate for the commander to be aboard the flagship of this fleet, who also happens to also be the fastest in the fleet."

Atago let me go and I gasped for breath. Her face constantly in a cheery expression, she replied, "Speed is nice, but what of self-defense? Sister Takao may be trained in the blade, but I prefer to use what I was born with."

Akagi spat, "She was born with the blade. If your mind is that gone, then you have no place carrying such precious cargo." She snarled and Atago exposed a fang in kind. "It's a metaphor! Calm down."

I dragged my knuckles across my face. This did not need to happen this early in the morning. I tried to be the voice of reason and said, "No fighting. Please.", but it fell on deaf, hairy ears.

Akagi continued, "And if you're planning on taking the commander somewhere he doesn't want to be, I'll be forced to treat this like a kidnapping."

I woke up a little more and said, "Akagi, back off."

She continued, "Oh, and now he thinks he wants to be with you? What have you done to him?!" Both of them went into fighting stances and deployed their rigging. Akagi said, "One less thorn out of my side."

I turned to Akagi and said, "Arm those guns inside this port and I will-"

She interrupted me, "Don't worry, I'll make it all right as soon as I smear this roach across the cement."

The previous few hours got to me and I snapped. I yelled, "Loyal ships, target 'em both!" Clicks and clatters went throughout the port as dozens of high-caliber guns loaded and torpedo tubes opened. The two destroyers farther away began slowly moving behind Akagi. Takao hesitantly pointed her guns at her sister and superior. Kaga fuelled her planes.

I marched over to Akagi and asked her, "What's rule number five in this port, Akagi?"

She grimaced and said, "...No deployed rigging unless repairs or raids."

"Right you are. Looks like you're doing just that. Am I gonna have to remind you what we do to fools who break that rule and throw attempted murder on top?"

"But she's-"

"That sounds like you're not answering my question. Do you want to make me even more mad? Because I can send you to the Sakura as-is or in fucking tupperware containers for all I care! Either that or I'll have Enterprise dig a hole on the beach, throw some napalm in there, and you in afterword! Bet that would be a fucking nostalgia trip for the both of you! You might die, but there wouldn't be a soul on this island who'd give a shit."

I continued, "You've got nobody to help you, so you'd better do some soul searching before you go up in smoke. Stop being the problem child and get on your ship. Atago, you do the same. Takao, I'll be with you. We set sail in half an hour. If you're not moving out by then, I'm handing you to the bulins."

I marched back up the pier toward where Takao was moored. She and Atago followed me close by in silence. I glanced at Kaga. She slowly nodded and went off to her ship. After this, I did read the atmosphere, and I admit I felt a little bit of fear coming from them. I didn't want to rule by it, but there's just stuff that has to be hard-stopped. If they start killing each other, then they lose faith in me, and then all hell would break loose. It'd be all my fault, too. Atago speed walked ahead and it became just Takao and me. As I walked up the gangplank with my suitcase, I said, "I'm sorry I had to put you through that."

Takao was silent for a bit, then said, "You had to do that. Discipline states that I had to do that as well. Sometimes, one must keep their own comrades in line as well for the greater good. My sister lacks such discipline and Akagi thinks of herself long before anyone else."

"Atago isn't a bad person. I felt she was on the receiving end."

"She dotes on you a lot. She dotes on everyone, even the ones she hates."

"Hard to see her hating anyone."

"She doesn't show it, which goes to show that she has the potential for discipline, but doesn't use it. It's somewhat embarrassing."

"Well, you can go too far with that, you know. Too much discipline and you become blind to a lot. Sharpen a sword too much and it's just as deadly as tinfoil."

We made it on deck and Takao said, "I understand. Do you know where your stateroom is?"

"Yeah. Look, next time you see Atago, tell her what I said. I think she was just defending herself and got caught."

"I'll relay that. However, I think it would be best if you told her that yourself. I'll perform some pre-departure checks while you make your way to the officer's country."

I finally said, "You're right. Meet you on the bridge." Takao nodded and suddenly became distant. The engines spun up and we weighed anchor in exactly thirty minutes.

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

Some time later, an emergency meeting was called. An hour after that, the conference room that previously only contained Gascogne filled with eleven annoyed individuals. Emergency meetings were becoming less rare. Gascogne began. "Dramatic opening: I theorize all of you are wondering why I called you here."

Prince of Wales replied with crossed arms, "Correct. Also very convenient you decided to call this immediately after the commander left."

"Statement: In our previous meeting, our fear was information getting out to the sirens. Now, I believe we must keep it from others within Azur Lane. Like last time, I have disabled any communication out of this room."

Gascogne waited for someone else to speak. Nobody did, so she continued, "Theory: I have reason to believe those on the mainland do not have our best interests at heart. In fact, I would go so far as to say they are thinking of themselves before us, the defenders of the planet."

Prince of Wales spoke again. "Those are some bold words. Accusations of corruption are not to be taken lightly. I trust you have more."

"Correction: I am not making accusations of corruption. I have recognized a possible threat to our coalition in the form of it's leadership. I will now present the recording."

Gascogne archived all of her video calls, and as far as anyone was aware, never erased her emails. She played the video call between her and secretary Harris. When it finished, Edinburgh said, "So you believe the coalition leadership has a problem with us being loyal to the commander and not them, and may make a move to remove him from power?"

"Theory: Yes. It is also possible we may soon come under psychological attempts to separate us."

Chapayev said, "I'll be the first to admit I feel nothing for Harris, nor the faceless council he's on. I don't even know what they do. In the meantime, I guess we should start quietly asking who our real allies are. I can't speak for them, but I believe my country is with us."

Prinz Eugen continued, "We have to acknowledge we're in a standoff here. The mainland controls almost all of our manufacturing. Fuel, ammunition, even components for the Odin project are imported from the mainland. We're far from independent."

Yorktown added, "But we control the world's waters. Without us, all international trade will halt and nations will implode. That must be worth something."

Eugen shook her head and said, "That'd be just as much putting a gun to our own head than theirs'. The sirens will take advantage of that in a heartbeat. Are there no other options?"

Gascogne replied, "Statistical analysis: Judging by precedent, the odds are not in our favor of this succeeding in the courts. Even an investigation is unlikely. In fact, that path may lead to the opposite intended effect. The commander does have far more power than what most societies would consider acceptable to an individual. Attention will most likely harm us."

Edinburgh said, "So, you believe they will try to quietly remove him?"

"Answer: Yes. This thought returns such a negative reaction from me, that I have spent much of my time performing strategic calculations to avoid this. I have nothing conclusive at this time."

The rest of them agreed. They all remembered when the warship girl program garnered laughter. They remembered the mockery as the commander was dumped into leadership of that program, knowing it was a career dead end. They also remembered the sweet taste of karma as they swiftly dominated the sea. Were they wrong? Maybe, but they weren't about to take orders from people who saw them as a joke, and then tried to control the girls when they actually became valuable. They had each other and one other person, and they weren't about to lose that without a fight. Edinburgh asked again, "Is the commander aware of this?"

"Answer: I do not believe so. Judging by his demeanor, I believe he trusts secretary Harris. Since both of them are critical subjects of this discussion, I thought it would be prudent to talk of this before informing either of them."

Prinz of Wales said, "It discomforts me to do such things under the commander's nose. I fear he may interpret this as a mutiny against him. We will have to inform him eventually, but as carefully as possible. The sooner the better. Who else knows?"

There was a hint of hesitation from Gascogne, almost looking like regret. She said, "Statement: Roon does. She is intelligent and also knows to keep her mouth shut. She is also adept in gathering information, and I did not want to risk her catching wind of this and misinterpreting it as a coup against the commander. I thought she would make for a good ally. All of you also know how she and the commander are. We all have mixed opinions of her, but I also felt she at least deserved to know."

Gneisenau commented, "That may have been a lapse of better judgement, but time will tell. Unlike Akagi, she doesn't try to keep him all to herself. She just takes her piece and is happy with that." She sighed. "Any suggestions? Perhaps we may need to reconvene for a proper brainstorming session later."

There was some silence, but then North Carolina tapped the table with a pen and said, "Y'know, I've seen some crazy things made with that new 3D printing stuff. You can make any specialized part anywhere with just some raw metal."

Yorktown looked over and grinned, "Now there's an idea."

Souryuu pondered, "There are many ports and dockyards in South America and Africa that are far from prying eyes. We could begin work on updating them and claim it on siren defense and logistics."

"There's another idea."