Chapter Twenty-Two
There were many times in the past where I found myself wondering why kansens were made in the image of humans. As beings meant to defend humanity against a foe as powerful as the Sirens, who could manipulate the very fabric of time and space; the human form felt woefully under-equipped for such a task. We could get hungry, sick, or tired; we had personality quirks and idiosyncrasies that sometimes made cooperation difficult, and often led to misunderstandings and escalations; and sometimes we were bothered by petty things to the point of insanity. What creator in their right mind would design a protector with so many crippling flaws in them? We could've been made as paragons of humanity, able to lead and inspire the masses, but instead I was now spending my afternoon hunting down a pack of destroyers who had gone AWOL after a spat with the captain.
I still had trouble coming to terms with how things spiraled out of control so quickly. Yes, the Fletcher destroyers should have done more to be mindful of the captain and his office, but surely Captain DeWolf could've made more of an effort to be welcoming and inviting to them. Right from the very start, he acted as though their presence was a nuisance, so should it have come as much of a surprise that they went and proved him right? It was something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. He said he did not handle children well, but to me it did not appear as though he made much of an effort to try.
In a way, we were all learning how to adjust to our new surroundings and circumstances. There were bound to be growing pains, and I could only hope to do my part in alleviating some of the discomfort along the way. Thus was how I came to my current assignment in tracking down the runaway Fletchers, who, unsurprisingly, were not in the hallway outside the captain's office when I went to check on them. Given how fast they were, they could be anywhere by now, but I knew I didn't need to rush to them. Sooner or later they would turn up, but more importantly, some time apart would allow both sides to cool their heads and hopefully be more receptive to a compromise.
A brisk stroll through the base was a welcomed change after so much time in the office. As Admiral Hipper and DeWolf had discussed earlier, there was a bad storm relatively close to our position, so there was considerable overcast. The darkening clouds and ever-growing strength of the wind hinted at the coming storm, which if we were lucky, would only graze by the port. While it wasn't a cause for concern, it did nonetheless prompt me to pick up the pace, if only so I wouldn't still be searching in the midst of a rainshower. I was no stranger to sea squalls, but that didn't mean I enjoyed walking across the base in drenched robes.
Along the way, I ran into a familiar face just outside the dormitories. "Miss Montpelier, good afternoon to you," I greeted her, offering a polite bow along with my words.
"Ah… hello Nagato." A more casual observer might've interpreted her brisk response in a negative light, but since our brief encounter in Cleveland's room, I could tell she did not greet me as though she were being forced to by unwritten rules of social etiquette. Her voice lacked the usual tone of annoyance, as though just saying hello was a huge inconvenience; she was still just a bit awkward in her social graces. "I would've thought you'd be with the captain right now. Is something up?"
"I am in search of a group of Fletcher-class destroyers on behalf of Captain DeWolf. Perchance you have seen them in passing?"
"Sure. I saw a bunch of them hurrying towards the waterfront," she said, thumbing over her shoulder. Thanking her for the information, I was just about to continue on my way when she stopped me. "Hold on, let me come with you."
"Are you sure?"
"Charles looked a little worked up when I saw them," she explained. "She can sometimes be a little headstrong, so… just in case."
I was not so prideful as to think bringing Montpelier along meant I could not handle the situation, but seeing as they were all members of the Eagle Union, it would bolster my chances of success to have one alongside me. Hopefully Charles Ausburne would not be as difficult as Montpelier had once been.
"I would be honoured to have you along," I agreed before gesturing for her to follow along.
"You know, you don't need to be so formal around here," Montpelier remarked, falling into step beside me. "Or at least, not with me. All that bowing and talk of honour just sounds weird when it's directed at me."
"I shall… try my best," I replied, feeling a little awkward myself. For me, it was still hard to speak casually around others. Most of my life had been spent having to be mindful of my words and speaking with the formality that was appropriate for my station. "I notice you are coming from the direction of the infirmary. Were you visiting your sister?" I asked in an attempt to put into practice that casual approach.
Montpelier just nodded. "Vestal says she thinks sis will be good for discharge tomorrow, although she still wants her to refrain from any training or exercises for another week." A confident grin crossed her lips. "But knowing Cleve, she'll be ready in half that time." Unfortunately, that exhausted the extent of my ability to make small talk, since I wasn't sure what else would even strike her interest unless we wanted to speak of her sister at length. However, in the absence of my abilities, she must've felt the same urge to fill the silent void between us. "So what's all this about the Fletcher girls anyways? What happened to get them all so worked up?"
I proceeded to explain what had transpired in the previous hours, how Fletcher had left her younger sisters in our care due to my misunderstanding, and how things went from peaceful to chaotic in what felt like the blink of an eye. I was relieved that she appeared to take an interest in the situation, since our time together running errands for the captain made it seem like everything was seen as an inconvenience for her.
"Which jar was it?" she asked at the end of my explanation. A curious detail for her to focus on, I thought.
"The one filled with sand. He said it was from a beach where he grew up."
She didn't say much after that, save for a very terse, "I see…"
Our conversation took a brief pause as we soon spotted our missing destroyers. They had taken to a nearby stretch of unused shoreline that the kansens had designated as the unofficial 'beachfront' for the base. It was a popular place for people to relax during off-hours, so it only made sense that the Fletcher-class destroyers, wary after working for so long, sought it out. Playing around in the water were Aulick, Bush, Jenkins, and Radford; they may have not remembered to bring their swimsuits, but that didn't stop them from frolicking in the shallows, laughing and giggling as they splashed one another in their impromptu water-based variant of tag. Nearby on the beach itself were Spence, Thatcher, and Foote. Spence was content to just build herself a little sandcastle, but the mischievous Thatcher and her partner-in-crime were taking advantage of the napping Nicholas, who would at some point awaken to discover herself up to her neck in sand. Far off to the side was Stephen Potter, who had more wisely kept away from the sand and to the shade of a scattering of trees in order to laze in peace. A part of me didn't want to disrupt them; children deserved some time to play, after all, and it wasn't as though they hadn't worked hard enough to have earned some reprieve. The only person not working was Charles Ausburne, who had assumed the mantle of lifeguard upon her own initiative, although the danger she was on the look-out for was from the likes of me.
However, while I felt some reluctance in proceeding forward, Montpelier felt no such inclination, and she was soon several steps ahead of me as she approached the girls. We were spotted the moment we stepped onto the beach as their sentry, Charles Ausburne, raced over to intercept us. She skidded to a halt between us and the rest of the destroyers, a look of resolute defiance upon her face.
"Halt right there!" she exclaimed, puffing out her chest in the process. "I will not allow you to carry out that evil captain's bidding!"
Montpelier let out a slow, quiet groan—the same one she expelled time and time again back when we were running errands for DeWolf. Now she was being bothered, although I prayed she wasn't weighing whether the captain was worth the hassle or not.
"It's not evil to expect you to do your homework," Montpelier deadpanned in response without missing a beat. "You're being a bother to the captain, so let's pack it up and head back."
Her tone was a bit harsher than I would've gone with. She didn't so much as ask as she demanded compliance, which didn't work very well when the captain was doing similar, so I feared she'd meet similar resistance. "I was hoping we could all return together so we can discuss what happened. The captain is not upset, but he does deserve an apology," I explained, hoping to address any concerns before they arose.
"An apology?" Charles Ausburne scoffed. "His shouting practically drove Spence to tears. Justice demands that it is he who should apologize to us! Montpelier, you are a Knight of the Seas, surely you understand that my cause is just. At the very least, this is not a matter that warrants your involvement."
She groaned again, louder this time, like someone continually poking a slumbering bear. "Cleveland asked me to help out the captain, so his problems become my problems, and right now: that problem is you," she explained with ever-thinning patience. "You disrupted his work, and you broke his jar. Now stop whining, or I'm going to tell Fletcher about this."
The others had gathered around behind Charles, and while at first they remained unified in their conviction, the mention of the eldest sister caused a few of them to start wavering. "Um, m-maybe she's right," Aulick whispered ahead. "W-we really don't want to make big sister Fletcher upset."
"Fletcher charged me to watch after all of you," Charles shot back, her willpower seemingly growing stronger under the doubt. "And that jerk of a captain made Spence cry. Now what kind of sister would I be if I just let that sin go unpunished? What kind of ally of justice would that make me?"
"A dumb one." I was beginning to think Montpelier wasn't as helpful as she thought she was.
"I heard that!"
"Good, then we know your hearing works, so I guess it's just your brain that's not."
"Don't think just because you're a cruiser you can say whatever you want!" Ausburne snapped, taking an aggressive step forward.
"You're coming back with me, one way or another." She punctuated her words by matching Ausburne's step, but taking it further as a brilliant aura began to envelope her.
Oh no. This wasn't just going in the opposite direction of 'helpful', it took the scenic route to the airport and then booked a one-way ticket to the opposite side of the planet. In hindsight, I should've realized that her method of problem solving was about as blunt and straight-forward as the rest of her mannerisms. She was going to drag Charles Ausburne back to the captain come hell or high water.
"W-wait, Montpelier, this is not—"
"Nonsense. Sometimes you just need to speak the right language to get your message across." The lights around her soon coalesced, then solidified in a final brilliant flash into the form of her rigging. The Union cruiser now bristled with a plethora of her nation's five and six-inch inch gun batteries.
Not only was this against my personal beliefs, it would run afoul with the captain's wishes, and even basic decency. He wanted to help bring kansens together, and instead we were about to start yet another shooting match. "Montpelier, please, there must be a better way," I pleaded.
"I'm not going to hurt her," my friend reassured me. "I'm just going to do a bit of training to knock some sense into her." And then, in a rather remarkably typical Unionist display of confidence, she flashed me a thumbs up. "Trust me."
As much as I wanted to trust her, my confidence in her methods had begun to wane. If a gunfight broke out here, there was no telling what kind of collateral damage could ensue. I presumed that Montpelier specifically mentioned training because she wanted to assure me that she would only be using training ammunition, but that could still put a hole in the side of a building if a wayward shell went towards the base. Any other time, I would've summoned my rigging and used my superior firepower as a deterrent against both parties, but with the inhibitor collar on, I was unable to do anything beyond words that were increasingly feeling powerless.
"Please do not do anything rash," I said with a dejected sigh.
Granted, Montpelier being rash wasn't the only thing I had to worry about. The escalation of force had little effect on Charles Ausburne's determination. If anything, it might've made it worse. "Ha! So now you show your true colours, you ne'er-do-well! No ally of justice would ever resort to brute force and bullying, so now I know you and the captain are up to no good!" she declared and then proceeded to summon her own rigging. It did not, however, escape my notice that all of her sisters behind her were now slowly edging away to the sides. "I, Charles Ausburne, leader of the Beaver Squadron, shall never yield to evil! If that means I must stand against the likes of you, then so be it. I shall fight injustice until there is more strength in my bones, no more breath in lungs, no more fire in my heart—"
I was beginning to understand why Montpelier insisted on coming along, and even began to share that same sentiment of emotional fatigue. It had already been a long day, and now I was listening to a pint-sized destroyer explain how the captain was a bad person for being so unfair and demanding of them. She kept going, but it wasn't long before even my patience had reached its limits.
"Forgive me," I murmured to myself, then looked to my colleague. "Montpelier."
Charles Ausburne was still going on about her alliance with justice when Montpelier fired a single salvo into her. The singular, resolute blast was punctuated by her defiant cries as she was launched several feet down the length of the beach, landing with an unceremonious 'thump' of dust and sand.
"Training rounds?" I remarked with a raised eyebrow.
"We might train a bit harder than others," she offered up. Confident in her victory, she put away her rigging and simply gestured towards the fallen kansen. "She should be more receptive now."
"Thank you… I think."
Though I was still undecided on the merit, one could not dispute the results. I trudged over to the newly formed Charles-shaped crater in the sand. She looked a bit disheveled and disorientated, but sure enough, even a cursory glance could show that she hadn't been seriously hurt by the shot. It was a testament to how resilient a kansen could be, even a mere destroyer. With a strained, but still defiant, groan, she slowly sat back upright.
"Justice… will not yield so easily…"
"May I ask, what would be justice in this situation?" I asked as I crouched down to bring myself to an equal level.
Having just finished butting heads with Montpelier, the destroyer was surprised to see me take such a direct, diplomatic approach. "W-well, I think he's asking far too much of us all at once. We should be allowed to take a break. And he shouldn't have yelled at us like he did. Spence is very sensitive, and it's my job to look out for her when Fletcher's not around."
It would not be enough to just simply say that she was acting inappropriately, or had taken things a step too far. I needed her to understand why things went wrong, or else no progress would be made. "Miss Ausburne, we are all on the same side here. Nobody is against justice, but sometimes people will have a different idea of what justice means at any given time. Your sister asked the captain to watch over you, and to ensure that you and your sisters finished your homework. However, he is also responsible for watching over the entire base. To neglect his duties as acting commanding officer in order to meet Fletcher's wishes would not be just. Do you believe that to be an unreasonable position for the captain to hold?"
"I… uh, n-no… it isn't," Charles murmured. One could see the shame starting to weigh upon her as she realized my line of reasoning.
"DeWolf should not have yelled, but your sisters were misbehaving," I explained to her. "Justice cannot exist without mutual respect. I shall see to it that the captain apologizes, but you and your sisters must also apologize for breaking his things. Does that sound fair?"
With a dejected sigh, she hung her head. "It does, but… I don't get what's so special about a jar of sand. We've got tons of sand everywhere."
As the dust had settled and it was clear there was to be no further violence, the rest of Charles' sisters began to coalesce around us. "Because that sand came from the captain's home," Montpelier answered, joining us. She understood the reasoning as soon as I explained what it was, the same as I had when the captain told me. "Not everywhere is like the Eagle Union or the Royal Isles. When the Sirens threat got worse, a lot of countries had to evacuate their coastline towns and cities, move them inland where they could concentrate what forces they had."
"So that sand is… all he has left of his home?" a nervous Spence asked.
I nodded as I rose to my feet, helping Charles up in the process. "When a kansen is born, we are gifted the collective memories of our namesakes. These memories are what shape us; they define who we are, and what we shall become. A human, however, is brought into this world a blank slate. For them, every memory is precious, created through their words and deeds. In turn, these memories guide the choices they will make. They are responsible for charting both their past and future. For us kansens, our memories are an immutable bedrock upon which we draw strength. For humans, though, it is like an ocean; endless and ever-changing, equal parts awe-inspiring and utterly terrifying. One day it can nourish a city, the next it can swallow it whole."
Little by little, her guilt began to subside, replaced with a faint glimmer of understanding in the destroyers' eyes. "I… I think I understand," Charles finally spoke up. A sudden rush of determination swept over her as she rushed past me to address her sisters. "Listen up, Beaver Squad, I've got us a new mission! In the name of justice, we begin Operation: Redemption!"
"What? New mission?" I was not counting on such a new and sudden influx of vigor from them. It took me by such surprise that I could only stand there, wide-eyed and mouth ajar, as the Fletcher squadron took off once more, charging down the beach. "Wait, girls, come back!"
The good news was that despite Charles Ausburne leading her sisters across the beach on a suddenly-announced expedition, it wound up not being difficult for Montpelier and I to keep up with them. They were no longer trying to evade us, but were just caught up in their new exuberance. However, while it wasn't too time-consuming, time, as it turned out, was not something we had in abundance. The Fletchers were too busy to notice, but Montpelier and I recognized that the conditions above were rapidly worsening. The stiff sea breeze soon became a forceful wind, and by the time we finally started heading back, the threat of rain had manifested into a torrential downpour. The chilling winds that cut straight to your bones and practically launched buckets of water into your face gave us all ample motivation to reach the relative warmth and safety of DeWolf's office. My hopes for a triumphant return were dampened both metaphorically and literally as a dozen soaking wet kansens marched in.
"I'll put a kettle on," DeWolf said with no hint of shock or surprise in his voice. He did have an office window, after all, so once the rain started coming down in force and we still hadn't returned, the end result became an inevitability. As he got up, he gestured to one of the nearby cabinets. "There are towels on the bottom shelf there."
Montpelier and I worked together to quickly get all the destroyers dried off, or at least as best we could with what we had. It would've been better to get them into some dry clothes, but that would mean another run through monsoon-level rains. I figured it was better to just wait out the storm.
"Now, you girls finish the last of your work while Charles and I speak with the captain," I instructed, ushering the destroyers back to the nearby table. The two of us then joined the captain, who had just finished filling up an electric kettle. "Captain DeWolf, may we have a moment of your time?"
"Hold on, you're dripping everywhere," he answered. The captain snatched the towel Charles had been using and dropped it upon my head. "You girls are a complete handful. I knew it was a smart idea to keep some towels around, but I'm thinking I should keep a hair dryer in the office too." He didn't even wait for my acknowledgement before he began ruffling the towel about, like a parent wiping down their children.
While a new surge of embarrassment left me scrambling for words, Charles Ausburne stepped in. "Sir, i-if I may," she began, steeling her resolve. "As leader of the Beaver Squad, I take full responsibility for what happened. Fletcher entrusted me to keep them in line, and I failed in that, disrespecting you and your office. S-so… if there is to be any punishment, then I ask you to spare my sisters and just punish me instead."
I wasn't sure what kind of disciplinary measures were commonly used in the Azur Lane, but judging by how Charles' hands were shaking, she was expecting the worst. Back in the Sakura Empire, Amagi was well-known for being forceful when it came to disciplinary measures, although a smack atop of the head was often all that was needed when it came from her. I didn't know the captain well enough to say whether he'd strike an insubordinate kansen, but his lingering silence as he contemplated his response was worrying. When he suddenly lifted a hand, I feared for the worst, and Charles even braced herself for what was to come. But instead of some thunderous clap of palm and skin, his hand just fell upon her crown.
"You were looking out for your sisters. I'm not going to fault anybody for that," he answered as he petted the young destroyer.
If I thought I felt flustered just from getting my hair rustled through a towel, Charles Ausburne looked like she was about to have a heat stroke. "A-and we're really sorry about breaking your precious jars, sir," she continued on, trying her best to ignore what the captain was doing. She made a valiant effort at it, but as her sisters began to take notice and snicker, her whole head went as red as a tomato. "S-sir, t-this is… this isn't how I expected justice to turn out!"
Despite her remarks though, she clearly made no effort to stop him or get away.
"Tell you what, once the tea is ready, you girls can break out the rest of your snacks, but you have to promise to keep working. Understood?"
"Y-yes sir!" Ausburne replied, managing to fight through her flustered emotions. "B-but about your jar, sir. My sisters and I realized that justice could not be served if we did not correct this error, so—"
Before she could finish her sentence, though, the captain's phone rang. It was still a naval base, after all, so business took priority, even over one destroyer's sense of justice. "I'll be right back," DeWolf offered apologetically before turning to his desk. "DeWolf speaking… wait, what do you mean you can't get a hold of them? Listen, I can have a teleconference with people in ten different time zones, and you're telling me you can't reach a few kansens within spitting distance of us?" The captain's reaction wasn't promising, especially since there was only one group of kansens that he would be worried about at this hour. The others realized it too. DeWolf's expression grew tenser as he listened to whoever it was on the other end of the line. "Who's responsible for maintaining the comm systems… her? How many jobs does that cat have? There should be a technical manual there, so just find it and—"
Before the captain could finish relaying his orders, there came a brilliant flash followed almost instantly by a terrible thunderclap that plunged the entire office into darkness. A few of the destroyers shrieked and I could hear them stumbling around to try and find one another. Between the late hour and the heavy clouds, it was nearly impossible to see anything until the captain managed to find himself a flashlight.
"So much for the storm just grazing us," DeWolf remarked as he swept the light across the room. He headed to the window and peered out as best the visibility would allow. "Looks like the power's out across the whole port."
"Sir, if we have no power, then we're completely blind," Montpelier stated, reaching the same conclusion that I, and no doubt everyone else, reached. Without power, we had no access to any of our early warning systems, or effective means to communicate and coordinate our defenses in the event of an emergency. While it would be risky for any to try and attack in such weather, the Sirens were never the type to care about sacrificing their forces to further their goals.
DeWolf nodded as he swiftly moved into action, grabbing his coat and heading for the door. "Montpelier, go to the power station and find out what's happening. Radford, Jenkins, Bush, and Potter: go to the dorms and bring everyone you can to the docks. I don't care what they're doing. Ausburne, take your girls and start rounding up everyone from the training yards."
Though the thunder had left them shaken at first, everyone quickly recovered and snapped to attention. "Yes sir!" came a unanimous response, followed by hurried footsteps as the girls all raced out the door.
"W-what about us, sir?" I asked.
"We'll start with command and control—try to figure out what the heck is going on."
This time around, we were now heading out into the rain with some measure of preparation, although the standard-issued rain cloak wasn't too far removed from a plastic tarp with a hole cut in it. Still, it kept the worst of the rain's bite at bay as DeWolf and I went to check on the base's power station. Like any military outpost, there should be a host of back-up generators to keep essential systems running, but considering how much damage we took in the Siren attack not too long ago, it was anybody's guess what might still be running at reduced function. A naval base out in the Pacific couldn't just phone in a new diesel generator or advanced computer hardware. Plus, the storm had grown worse even in the short time we spent in the office. The wind had gotten strong enough to start carrying debris with it, and not just newspapers and umbrellas, but things that could actually cause some damage if they hit something sensitive.
When we arrived at command and control, the nerve center of all our operations, the chamber that was normally abuzz with humming computer terminals was eerily silent with only a scattering of flashlights and chemlights to provide illumination. Despite the dire state, we were relieved to see some kansens had already taken the initiative in attempting to sort out our problem. In fact, it was none other than Akagi whom we happened upon first shortly after our arrival.
"Ah, Captain DeWolf," she greeted, her usual playfulness replaced by a steadfast professionalism that I had known her for. "We've lost power to all primary and secondary systems. A few girls came by earlier and reported seeing lightning making landfall in the general vicinity of the power station, and I've dispatched Kamikaze and Myoukou to get our back-up generators online."
"Excellent work. In that case, I want you to stay here and organize the repair teams. Anybody not trained to fix stuff gets sent to the docks. Can I count on you for that?"
Even in the dim light of the command center, I could see the coquettish smirk cross her features. "Of course, sir. I assure you, I'll take good care of things from here. What about you?"
"Gonna do the rounds," he answered.
We weren't leaving empty-handed, of course, as we made sure to grab as many shortwave radios as we could find, along with spare flashlights, and a map that wouldn't get destroyed the second it was exposed to water. Leaving command and control to Akagi's care, we began our trek through the port, stopping by all of the major areas to make sure that the people there were organized and given assignments, as well as ensuring at least one person in each work team had a radio set to keep in touch. Along the way, a few lights began to flicker on in some of the buildings, and we were relieved one of those was the infirmary, which for obvious reasons had its own dedicated back-up generators. After we had handed out every radio and flashlight we had, the captain and I checked the power stations and main back-up generators. Montpelier had a report ready for us when we arrived. It was better than we feared, but worse than we had hoped: the Siren raid from earlier had left some systems stressed, and the full extent of the damage hadn't made itself known until the storm hit. The best estimate was that we'd be without main power for a few more hours and would have to make due with the back-up generators in the meantime. Unfortunately, when we inspected those, the report we received from Myoukou painted a picture of severe neglect on the port's part. Nobody had really bothered to inspect the back-up generators after the Siren raid beyond just a cursory examination of the components. Some routine maintenance and testing had been scheduled, but the base staff had fallen behind on those. It was an unintended casualty of the old protocols that kept everyone from the Crimson Axis from being able to contribute to the general base operations. Between maintaining normal operations and coping with new factions, the kansens from the Azur Lane just couldn't keep on top of everything, and thus tasks of lesser priority fell to the wayside.
The new changes to base assignments instituted by Captain DeWolf would hopefully prevent such a problem from recurring in the future, but it did little to fix the neglect already inflicted upon the machines, and our best tech specialists were among the kansens we couldn't get in contact with.
"I should probably go take a look at the generators myself then," DeWolf suggested as we took a brief moment of reprieve from the rain inside the generator room.
"With all due respect, sir, Montpelier and I can handle this ourselves. You don't need to trouble yourself with this," Myoukou insisted. "I might not be as good at repairs as Akashi, but I know how to handle a spanner." Judging by the oil stains already on her uniform, barely visible as they were in the dimly-lit concrete shack, she was already in the midst of that assignment.
"Then it'll go faster if there's more of us."
The captain sounded determined to see this through, but as he was about to take off his coat, I grabbed him by the wrist. "Sir, your presence is already required elsewhere," I reminded him. "You have kansens gathering at the dock waiting for your instructions." For a moment, he looked almost disappointed by the reminder, as if he had been looking forward to this. I knew firsthand that the captain was good with his hands when it came to machinery, but he had already made a commitment to be elsewhere, and I would've been remiss in my duties if I allowed him to get sidetracked here. "Myoukou is as dedicated and capable a kansen as there ever was one. With her and Montpelier on this task, they shall not fail."
DeWolf nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Ah, yes, you're right. We're still needed elsewhere. If you need help, though, get my brother from the labs to come. He's more used to high tech stuff, but he's still good at fixing things."
"Of course, sir," Myoukou replied, snapping a crisp salute to the captain. "And thank you, Lady Nagato, for your vote of confidence. I won't let either of you down."
With the matter of base power left in the care of capable hands, the captain and I departed to meet with all of the kansens that had hopefully gathered at the docks for us. The purpose of which was obvious to me from the moment that DeWolf took the map along with him. In the absence of our early warning systems, the only way to ensure the port's security would be through the use of the standard mark one eyeball. That meant patrols, and lots of them. No sooner did we arrive at the rain-slickened docks, whereupon we met with a couple dozen kansens who were all waiting eagerly for the new orders, and all of whom understood the gravity of the situation. This time around, there were no complaints or concerns who was being paired with whom; DeWolf went through the crowds, assigned teams on the fly, and then assigned a grid sector to patrol. It was reassuring to see things working so smoothly for a change. In the midst of the captain's assigning and dispatching of kansens, a familiar-looking flock of small girls in rain cloaks came scampering up to DeWolf.
As always, Charles Ausburne was at the lead of the pack, and made her best effort to salute the captain with one hand while using the other to keep her beret from flying away in the storm. "Sir, request permission to lead the Beaver Squad in a search and rescue of Admiral Hipper and her squadron."
While Charles did her best to make the request sound as objective and professional as possible, even I could see she was just putting on a brave face for everyone. It was obvious her concern was about her big sister, Fletcher, who we still had yet to re-establish contact with. She was worried, and rightfully so, as was every Fletcher-class destroyer huddled behind her.
"In this weather?" he replied, unconvinced. "The patrol routes are difficult enough, but you'd have to sail into the worst of that storm. Your sister wouldn't want you taking that much of a risk just for her sake."
Knowing this was going to lead to a disagreement, I decided to intervene on Ausburne's behalf. "Sir, I believe you should honour their request."
"You think it's a good idea to send people even further out into this storm?" DeWolf answered as he gestured to the ocean behind him, which consisted of nothing but huge swells and thick curtains of rainfall.
"I do," I said with a firm nod. "We are kansens, sir. Sailing into dangerous circumstances in the aid of another is precisely what we were created to do. Whether it is for justice, for duty, or simply family, we will always do what is necessary to protect the things and people we care about. So please, sir, let us do our jobs."
There was a tense pause as the captain mulled over my words. I was so nervous that he would reject my pleas that my heart felt like an overworked engine inside my chest, drowning out even the thunderclaps in the distance. After a brief, agonizing moment, though, I could see his expression begin to relax. "Very well," he agreed. "But no heroics from any of you. If the seas prove too difficult, you are to turn around and return to port."
Charles' eyes lit up like a fire had just lit inside her. "Aye aye, captain!" she exclaimed before turning to the rest of her squad. "Let's go, girls! I want to see thirty-one knots from each and every one of you!"
While the captain turned to resume organizing the rest of the kansens, I watched as the Fletcher girls leapt into the ocean one after the other. That was when I noticed there was one fewer than I remembered there being. "Miss Ausburne!" I called out to the squad leader just as she was about to leave. "Are you… missing someone?" It felt awkward to ask, but it was the only way I could phrase it. It wasn't as if she had misplaced somebody, or lost them, but something had to explain the discrepancy in the headcount.
"Ah, yeah… Spence," Charles said as a brief flicker of worry crossed her. "She doesn't handle thunderstorms very well, so I thought it would be better if she just found someplace safe to hunker down until we returned. I don't suppose I could ask you to check on her if you get a chance?"
I promised her that I would try my best and wished her a safe voyage. Once she left, I returned to the captain's side, who had also just finished sending off the last of the patrols. He stood silent at the edge of the docks, watching as the kansens slowly faded into the storms and mist. At first, I thought he would take the opportunity to finally return to the command and control center to continue coordinating our efforts, but he remained where he was for some time. It was almost as if he were waiting for something. After a while, I felt compelled to say something.
"Sir, this was all entirely unnecessary."
"I beg your pardon," he replied in a tone that was halfway between asking and demanding an explanation.
"We have spent the better part of an hour in this storm, even though everything we have done could have been delegated to your subordinates, or handled indoors. There was no reason for you to have subjected yourself to the elements like this. You did not have to hand out flashlights and radios personally." I didn't want to sound like I was just complaining about having been stuck in the rain with him, but somebody had to look out for his well-being because he clearly didn't. "It would have been more efficient to remain in one place and delegate assignments accordingly."
"Just because it's more efficient, doesn't make it the right choice," he answered. I would've left the answer as is, but I noticed a somberness interlaced with his words. It was a tone I remembered hearing from him before back when we were in the machine shop on board the Akagi.
Suddenly, his decisions made a lot more sense. "You are trying to punish yourself again, correct?" I asked, albeit rhetorically. "You feel responsible because Admiral Hipper and her team were sent out into a storm, so you are now standing in the same storm as a way to right the perceived wrongdoing."
The fact that he didn't flatly deny me right away was the best indication that I hit the mark. "We didn't have to replace those sensor buoys right away," he eventually answered, grim and sober. "Could've waited a day or two, until the storm passed. The hole in the sensor net could easily be compensated for with increased patrols, but I was just so keen to address something that wasn't more paperwork that I just didn't care. Now I have missing kansens in a storm, and I'm having to send more kansens to go look for them. You can head back inside if you'd like, but I'm staying here."
His reasoning was as I expected, because in the same position I would have said the same thing. I was no stranger to falling upon one's sword, but hearing it come from somebody else just felt disheartening. I found myself wondering if this sense of frustration was anything like what Mutsu felt whenever I was being obstinate with her over some trivial matter. If I were more like my sister, or even Choshu, I would not take such a response as final. It may have been his choice, but it was a stupid, prideful one.
"Sir, you are not being admirable, you are just being stubborn. You did not make it rain, and the security risk needed to be addressed. You have done your due diligence, so now it is time to go inside and trust your kansens to do their jobs. I can promise you that there is not a single person stationed here who would want to see you standing in the cold rain simply because you are feeling guilty over matters outside your control."
Sadly, not only did my words fall upon deaf ears, but his patience with me reached its end. "You are dismissed, Miss Nagato."
By the heavens, what an aggravating and stubborn person he was being. It was almost enough to make me want to kick him into the ocean. This frustration must have been what my sister felt when Choshu and I remained stubborn in our animosity towards one another. However, I could recognize defeat when I met it, and I wasn't going to convince DeWolf to change his mind with just words alone, so I opted to return to his office. At the very least, I could do something productive there in the meantime, even if it was just paperwork by flashlight. Once again, my thoughts drifted to considerations as to how others might handle this problem, in particular Akagi. As different as the two of us were, it was hard to deny she was good at getting what she wanted. If she were trying to get Captain DeWolf back inside, what would she do? Knowing her, she would probably just take the captain by the arm and shove it between her two giant…
I stopped that train of thought once I realized how shameful I was being, thinking so ill of my colleagues. Akagi was better than just resorting to her feminine charm, especially when she had already been rebuffed once before by DeWolf. She would use her wit and guile to make him want to, or need to, return inside. I continued to ponder the dilemma whilst grumbling about the stubbornness of mankind, while equally lamenting my own weakness. Out of everyone present at that dinner, I could not see any of the other girls having trouble convincing the captain otherwise. I wasn't sure if it was a matter of their status and reputation, or simply a lack of my own. Within the Sakura Empire, I commanded respect throughout the ranks, but outside of that, I was just a pint-sized battleship with childish looks who spoke too formally. I probably came off as more comical than prestigious. I lacked Akagi's wits, King George V's charisma, and Admiral Hipper's tenacity. It was enough to make one wonder why the captain even accepted my help in the first place—perhaps a sense of obligation since he was the one who ordered me interned.
"I should stop thinking so ill of myself," I sighed under my breath. Negative thinking had a way of pulling a person in like a storm, erasing the horizon and swallowing one up whole. Mutsu and Choshu would chastise me to no end if they heard me voice such thoughts about myself, and I could already hear the kind of lecture that Mikasa would have in store.
The relative warmth and dryness of the captain's office was a welcomed relief when I finally arrived. The emergency generators had yet to be repaired, so I still had to rely on my flashlight and the occasional bout of lightning to make sure I didn't trip over the Fletchers' belongings. If I couldn't help the captain out of his depressive mindset, then at least I could make sure that when he finally did return, there would be a bit less paperwork for him to handle. Not the most glamorous of chores, but work needed to be done, and it wasn't as if I could help anywhere else in the current situation. As I sat down at the desk, just before I could pick up my pen, I heard a most peculiar of sounds. It was barely audible over the torrent of rain peppering the nearby window, but that's when I found her: tucked under the captain's desk was the missing Fletcher sister, Spence. She was curled into a tight ball, her knees hugged so tight to her chest I worried she'd cut off circulation.
"Spence? What are you doing here?" I asked, illuminating her with the flashlight.
Before she could answer, though, there came another thunderclap that flooded the room in acerbic light. When Spence flinched and buried her face into her knees, the answer became obvious, but more importantly: an idea came to mind.
"Please, wait right there. I will return shortly."
I felt a bit silly after saying that: one did not hide under a desk if you were planning on leaving in the first place. Nonetheless, I became so possessed with my new idea that I raced out the door into the rain without even thinking to grab my rain cloak again. I didn't care about how drenched I got, and it must've come as quite the shock to Captain DeWolf when he saw me racing towards him.
"Miss Nagato, what are you—"
"Sir, there is an urgent matter that requires your attention: there is a kansen in your office in need of help."
DeWolf gave me a scrutinizing stare for a brief moment, understandably skeptical. "Are you just trying to get me to go inside?"
"I am," I answered him, taking a page from Akagi's bluntness. "But I am also not lying. It is up to you to decide how you wish to respond."
Between his compulsion to help, or the simple fact that standing in a rainstorm without a cloak added weight to my conviction, he eventually let out that distinctive, defeated sigh of his. "Very well, lead the way," he said as he gestured the way forward.
We returned to the office, and I led him to the cowering girl still hiding under his desk. I imagine he was somewhat disappointed when the situation wasn't as exciting as everything up until now had been.
"Spence, what are you doing under there?" he asked, equal parts tired and annoyed.
The destroyer gazed up for a second, her tear-filled eyes glistening from the illumination of the flashlights. "C-Charles told me to stay put until she got back," she whimpered. Another flash of thunder made her recoil back into her tight ball with a shriek. "M-make it stop!"
It took DeWolf about the same amount of time to put the pieces of the puzzle together as it took me, although rather than excitement, he looked even further disappointed. Just as he was about to speak up, though, I decided to intervene once more.
"Captain, a moment in private, please?" I said. Although I didn't drag him to the far corner of the office, I also didn't give him any time to respond before I took him by the arm—something that Mutsu often did to me.
"Wh—Nagato, what is it now?"
"You had a look, sir, like you were about to say something inappropriate," I explained.
"Now that's an unfair accusation."
"You were about to say something like 'you fight Sirens, how are you afraid of a thunderstorm?'."
He tensed for a moment. "I… wouldn't have phrased it exactly like that," he admitted in a sheepish murmur. "You'd think a kansen expected to fight Sirens could handle a bit of bad weather. I don't understand why I needed to be brought here for this."
All expected questions, of course, and I've had the past several minutes to think how to respond. "I understand you are upset and blaming yourself over her sister, but right now you have an opportunity to make a difference and do some good," I said, pointing over to the table. "Sir, she is scared, and you are her commanding officer: that makes her your responsibility. Be there for her."
I could see my words slowly changing his mind, his previous weariness beginning to subside, replaced with a growing concern and uncertainty. "Shouldn't you talk to her, though? You're a fellow kansen-surely you two would understand each other better."
"It is precisely because you are not a kansen that you are suited for it." A confusing answer, to be sure, and under most circumstances I would've agreed that two kansens could come to an understanding much more easily, but in this case, I suspected DeWolf would be better. "Sir, understand that as kansens, we are not born like you. We are created in our current form, and bestowed the memories of our namesake. It is by this, the connection through our wisdom cube to humanity, that teaches us how to fight the Sirens… but it does very little to teach us how to be human. Captain, you spend years growing up, learning how to act, how to behave, and how to be part of a community, before you join the military and learn how to be a soldier. For us, it is the opposite. We are often left to learn on our own as many humans see us merely as living weapons. Some of us learn and adapt quickly, while others struggle to find their footing. The girl under your desk: she is a kansen, yes, and she will fight a Siren without hesitation… but she is also a child, who is terribly afraid of thunderstorms."
His expression finally softened, a faint light of understanding now in his eyes as he nodded. "Okay, I'll take care of her." I decided to stay at his side as we returned to his desk. He took a seat and shone his flashlight once more on Spence. "Hey there… you said your sister told you to stay put until she came back, right?"
Spence nodded. "Mmhm. D-do you know when she's coming back?"
"I don't know. They've gone to go find your sister, so it could be a while," he answered, his voice now possessing a calming gentleness to it. "But I'm here, and I'll stay with you until she gets back, okay? So why don't you come out from under there. That's hardly a comfortable place to stay." He then offered her his hand.
"O-okay," Spence said as she gave a fearful nod. A trembling hand slowly reached out, only to be interrupted by another crash of thunder and lightning that caused her to retreat back into the relative safety of her refuge and bury her face into her knees.
I worried the setback would upset or discourage the captain, but while he withdrew his hand, he chose instead to scoot his chair closer and lean in. "You really don't like thunderstorms, do you?" he asked, sympathetically. Spence shook her head. "To be honest, I'm not too fond of them either. I always get a little... anxious and uneasy during them."
Hearing something that resembled a kindred spirit, Spence slowly lifted her gaze back to him. "R-really?"
DeWolf nodded as he shifted in his seat, hunching over so he could rest his elbows upon his legs. "It was a storm just like this on the night I first met a Siren in the flesh," he explained. The news came as a bit of a surprise to Spence and I, as there were few recorded instances of encounters between the two that didn't end with the human being annihilated. Despite all the conflicts, the Sirens showed little interest in humans, and only kansens have had the opportunity to converse with them on rare occasions. "It was at a place off the Iris coast called the Iroise Sea… maybe about four years ago now. The Sirens attacked the Royal Navy fleet I was serving in, and even though we had a number of kansen escorts, there were just so many Siren ships from every direction that we were all overwhelmed." I knew he was sharing this story for Spence's sake, but I couldn't help but take a vested interest in hearing more as well and found myself stepping closer to him. "Things were starting to turn around, but then… 'she' showed up. All the firepower in the world didn't seem to slow her down, and she just swatted our ships and kansens out of the water. I was on board the fleet flagship, and she turned her attention to us. Our guns couldn't even hit her and when she fired back it just… peeled open the entire bridge superstructure like it was a tin can."
"Were… were you scared?" a timid Spence asked.
He swallowed and blinked a few times; I could tell he was doing what he could to keep a calm composure. "I was… terrified. I had spent so many years studying and preparing to face Sirens. I had come to hate them for everything they took away from us. All that preparation, though, and I couldn't stop trembling as she ripped my ship apart piece by piece. And then… then she saw me."
"Saw you?" I repeated, my sense of confusion overriding my manners.
"I was on the bridge when it got hit, and when I came to she was there. This… deathly pale girl, sitting on top of this throne of tendrils and cannons. All of my studies, all the years of hate and anger… amounted to absolutely nothing before her. There was nothing I could do; I may as well have been trying to fight the sun and the moon." His description reminded me immediately of the Siren known as Observer: the same one that approached me and seemingly brought Choshu into this world. Our few records of her suggested she tended to avoid direct combat, so it was curious that she would have intervened at Iroise Sea. "When she looked at me, I suddenly felt so insignificant, like she was looking down on an insect that caught her curiosity."
Spence, whether driven by curiosity or concern, slowly crawled out from under the desk. "And what happened next?"
"She said to me, 'not yet', and then she left. It was as if I barely even mattered to her." He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Years of study and training all in preparation for the day I could confront a Siren, and I couldn't even stand without shaking. I had never felt so powerless before in my life… and it's terrifying to think that against those things, nothing I can do will ever be enough."
It was easy for me as a kansen to forget that humanity's view of Sirens was markedly different than our own. We saw Sirens as threats, but they were challenges that could be met and bested, as we have proven before in the past. For a man like DeWolf facing a Siren, though, he may as well have been trying to challenge god. I was reminded a bit of what Joseph DeWolf said about why kansens were made in the forms we had: I realized that if we appeared as anything else, we would probably be just as terrifying to humanity.
The conversation did appear to work in calming Spence down, as she now seemed more intrigued by the conversation than anything else. "So… the captain is scared of Sirens?" she remarked curiously. "Then aren't you scared to be here? We fight the Sirens, after all."
"I guess I'll just have to learn to be brave, then."
"How can you be brave if you're scared, though?"
"Because I know I'm not alone: I'll have people like you, and Nagato, and your sisters, and all of the other kansens here to help me when I'm feeling a bit scared." He offered Spence a warm smile as he extended a hand back to her once again. "How about you and I work together then? I'll keep you safe from the storm, and you'll keep me safe if any Sirens show up. Can I count on you?"
Spence's eyes became tearful again, but this time it wasn't due to fear or shame. Instead, she looked relieved, even a little bit happy. While it was true what DeWolf said that all of us experienced fear, our attitudes and thoughts towards it were bolstered by our accomplishments and memories. It easily led to a mentality that scoffed at the idea of fear, so for Spence, this was probably one of the first times that somebody genuinely reassured her that it was okay for her to be scared of lightning. Despite his earlier sentiments to me, he didn't admonish or belittle her for how she felt. He acknowledged her feelings, and shared his own. Another kansen might've been able to do the same thing, but I had no idea who could've filled that role as easily as DeWolf had.
"Y-you can count on me," Spence agreed with a determined nod and smile. The moment was soured a bit when another bolt of lightning struck, this time quite close, and the poor girl dove straight into DeWolf and clung tightly to his chest. "Y-you're not g-g-gonna leave… r-right?"
Despite his initial surprise, the captain's arms slowly closed around her and just cradled her close. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"Honestly, it was a good thing that Fletcher came along. Once the storm hit in full, navigation would've been impossible without her guidance."
"All that guidance would've been meaningless if you weren't so adept at fixing the buoys despite the storm. I don't think any of our usual crews would've managed it so quickly in such dire conditions."
It was a huge relief for the whole base when Admiral Hipper and her team returned safe and sound a few hours after the black-outs hit. When word hit, I was out to meet them at the docks in a heartbeat and, much to my delight, the experience appeared to have forged something of a bond between Hipper and Fletcher.
"We wouldn't have been able to fix that last one if all your little sisters hadn't shown up when they had," Hipper continued on with her surprising praise for the Union destroyers. "Quite the helpful bunch you have; you clearly taught them well."
I had always heard that Admiral Hipper could be a bit prickly with others, so I liked to think that she managed to learn some new things interacting with kansens she otherwise normally wouldn't. It meant that the captain's vision had some merit to it. Of course, it might've had something to do with how, upon their return, the younger Fletcher sisters were now all exclaiming about 'how cool' big sister Hipper was. Once I met with them, they promptly reported their success and that all of the buoys had been restored to working order in the field. Soaked to the bone and exhausted from such a long voyage, I reassured them that they could go and rest up and not have to worry about debriefing the captain until the morning.
"Hey, did you manage to check on Spence?" Charles asked, naturally concerned about their missing little sister.
"She is with the captain right now. He kept her company through the storm," I explained.
"I should go collect her then," Fletcher suggested. "These girls are all up way past their bedtime after all, and I would hate to impose on the captain any longer than I already have."
To that end, I led Miss Fletcher back to the captain's office, along with the rest of the younger sisters who followed their eldest around like ducklings trailing behind their mother. Most of the power to the base had been restored via the back-up generators, so there was at least a modest amount of lighting to help guide us. When we reached the office, I gestured for silence from the others, for I knew what was waiting for us after I opened the door. A subtle creek of the swinging door was the only noise as I brought everyone inside. Captain DeWolf was sprawled across the length of the couch with Spence laying atop of his chest, the two of them sound asleep beneath the blanket I had draped over them before I left. The book he had been reading to her had long since fallen onto the floor—the history of the North Atlantic conflicts may have been a bit dry for a child, but it appeared to serve its purpose just fine.
"Oh my, I almost don't want to disturb them," Fletcher whispered, followed by a stifled giggle. I was inclined to agree with her, but we both knew that sleeping on a couch like that would probably not be good for the captain's health. The elder sister crept over and gently roused the little one awake. "Spence… Spence, it's me. It's time to go to bed."
With a faceful of disheveled pink hair, a half-awake Spence just gazed up for a few seconds, staring blankly. "Fletcher… is that you?"
"That's right. Now come on. We've taken up enough of the captain's time." With practiced care and precision, she scooped up her little sister, cradling her up against her chest. Even half-awake, Spence seemed to instinctually cling to her sibling and nestled her head upon Fletcher's shoulder.
"Good-night… captain…" Spence murmured.
Equally half-awake, DeWolf made a half-hearted attempt to wave back. "G'night pumpkin… daddy will see you in the morning…"
Everyone just froze for a brief second, exchanging silent glances before a round of giggles and snickering consumed us all. The things people said when they were still mostly asleep. Now between all the noise and the sudden disappearance of the weight against his chest, the captain was roused from his sleep as well. He grumbled and yawned as he slowly sat up, arching his back as he stretched out in all directions. Of course, by the time he finally regained all his senses, the other girls had left, and it was just me and the captain in the office.
"Did you sleep well?" I asked, trying my best not to smirk as memories of his previous utterance still danced in my mind.
"It'll get me through the night," DeWolf answered as he finally got to his feet in order to return to his desk. All the time he spent taking care of Spence had meant he had neglected his paperwork once more, so it was clear that he intended to continue on through the night in order to catch up. "You should turn in. You've done enough for one day."
Considering I was tired, cold, and still damp from having constantly gone out into the rain, I wasn't in any mood to try and argue against the idea, much as I hated to leave work unfinished. "Then I will bid you a good night, captain," I said, bowing politely before then turning to leave.
Just as I was about to, though, he shouted, "Hold on!"
"Is something the matter, captain?" I asked as I turned to him again.
Before, though he looked fatigued, he seemed focused and diligent as he usually did, but as he got up and approached me, I noticed a bit of anxiety and wariness in his expression. It was a strange thing to see him being nervous. "L-listen, Miss Nagato, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," he began, "I know I said a lot of things a while ago about how I would be fine managing things on my own, but over these last few days, it's become pretty apparent that I am a little—no, make that a lot—in over my head with this position. I could really use an assistant."
"And… you wish for that to be me?" I replied, surprised by the news, but not nearly as much as I would have expected myself to be. With how much time I had spent with him over the past couple of days, the thought of making it a more permanent arrangement felt almost like a logical conclusion. "Are you sure that would be wise? Surely you would be better served by someone like Akagi or Admiral Hipper or—"
"No, I need it to be you," he cut me off, which did now surprise me. I think even he was a little surprised by the sudden boldness as he let out a quiet, sheepish sigh. "I'd much prefer it if it were you, is what I mean. You understand kansens far better than I do. You listen well and give out thoughtful advice; you're good at noticing the kind of details about people that I don't always get. I thought just being here and being a good officer was all I needed to do this job, but you've helped me see that I need to be more than that—and I believe you can help me achieve that."
To be honest, I didn't know what to say at first. I had always been so quick to undersell my efforts that I had trouble believing them even when they were laid out in front of me. He didn't just want my help; he needed it to be me. I felt a stirring of flattery and humility within me, and while I was tempted to give an emphatic 'yes' to his request, I knew I had to maintain a more dignified poise. I just prayed my ears weren't twitching too readily.
"Then, you wish for me to be your secretary ship?" I replied.
"W-well, we don't have to use that term if you don't—"
Now it was my turn to interject. "I would be honoured to carry the title," I said, bowing once more. "I believe the saying in your culture is, I look forward to working with you."
"And I look forward to working with you as well."