A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Unfortunately the only gift I can give you is another chapter of this story, so that will have to do...

Fubuki sat on a small grassy slope nearby the beach, her hands busy peeling an orange. She struggled with the skin a bit before finally getting it to give, and as she popped a slice in her mouth, she looked out over the sea, which glittered under the early summer sun like a field of sapphires.

She had been out there training this morning along with Amatsukaze and Sendai, but she couldn't help but think that the sea still felt empty. Ever since the operation ended, Fubuki's fleet had not resumed their regular training sessions. It was obvious as to why since their secretary ship had sunk and a few others from the fleet were still in the hospital, but it still left her with a longing sadness. In the past few months, Fubuki had really enjoyed being a part of this fleet even though she was away from her sisters, but now it felt like that was all coming to an end. Kaga was dead, and she hadn't seen her admiral since they arrived back at the base.

I wish there was something I could do… But I'm just one destroyer. I can't change what's happened, Fubuki thought glumly.

Would she ever get to sortie with her fleet again? On one hand, Okinawa had been taken and the Abyssals were stronger than ever, so the world needed the ship girls. But on the other hand, the navies of the world had suffered an enormous defeat, and the ship girls and sailors were demoralized and injured.

Are we going to lose this war too? Fubuki wondered. Back when she had first learned the details of the Abyssal conflict, she had thought that impossible. It wasn't just Japan anymore, and now all the countries of the world were fighting together as one against a common foe instead of fighting each other. With that sort of unity and strength, how could they lose? But after the battle for Okinawa…

Maybe I should just give up after all. What's the point of coming out here and training in the morning if it's just the three of us? Two destroyers and a light cruiser can't defeat the Abyssals. If even our commander and our secretary ship were beaten, what chance does someone like me have? Why should I continue wasting my time? I'm just going to sink in the end, aren't I?

Those defeatist thoughts made Fubuki uncomfortable, and she let out a long sigh.

"Oh? That was quite the sigh just now."

"... Huh? Oh - Akagi!" Fubuki exclaimed in surprise as the carrier sat down beside her.

"Good morning," Akagi smiled. "Were you out training today, Fubuki?"

"Y-Yeah," the destroyer replied, almost guiltily.

Akagi fixed her eyes on the sea. "That's good. Best to keep in shape, no?"

"Yeah…" If only she knew what I was thinking about just now…

Akagi smirked and cast a sidelong glance at Fubuki. "Hm… You're saying, 'Yeah,' but you sound unsure of yourself. Not many people sigh in sadness after a satisfying training session."

Agh, she caught me. "Well, um, the truth is… I was just thinking about how the fleet doesn't train together anymore."

"I see." Akagi turned her gaze back to the ocean. "Some of our members are still in the hospital, no?"

"Yeah. So are we going to go back to training together after they're out?"

Akagi was silent.

Fubuki looked down. "Oh…"

"I'm sorry, Fubuki. I don't know the answer to that," Akagi admitted. "It's not really up to me, is it? The Admiral and Shoukaku are the leaders of this fleet, and it's their job to restart operations."

"And you don't think they will?" Fubuki asked, her eyes still hopeful.

"Like I said, I don't know," Akagi replied. "What I do know, however, is that if the fleet is patched back together again, each individual ship needs to be ready. We can't have anybody slacking or in poor shape because she already gave up. That includes you and me."

"So… You're going to keep training too?"

Akagi nodded. "I was only recently released from the hospital so I've been confined to the archery range, but soon I'll be back out on the water."

"Really?" Fubuki said, almost in awe. "You're still going to fight? Even after Kaga -"

Fubuki quickly stopped herself.

Akagi smiled sadly. "It's all right; there is no need to dance around the subject. Yes, Kaga is gone. And yes, it hurts me. But what will hurt me even more is doing nothing to avenge her death. What would Kaga say if I never picked up my bow again? What would her sacrifice have meant if the Abyssals just win in the end anyway?"

The carrier paused for a moment as a small breeze passed through, making the grass they were sitting on sway gently.

"Kaga never saw this war in terms of personal achievements or individual feelings," Akagi then said. "That's why she seemed so distant and aloof. Her goal was always to do the best for the fleet as a whole, and for humanity. I'm sure she'd admonish us for sitting here and feeling sad over her death if she could. But as calm and professional as Kaga tried to act, as a ship girl, she still had emotions. I know there were people she cared about like me, Houshou, and - Yeah."

Akagi smiled. "The difference is that Kaga used her emotions to make herself stronger in battle instead of letting them hold her back. Isn't that the true purpose of us ship girls anyway? It's the advantage we have over our past warship selves. We were born again into these forms for a reason, and it's up to us to find that reason… And maybe that reason is something that we have to teach each other, and though Kaga's gone now, I think I'm finally learning."

The carrier stood up. "Fubuki. I can't force you to fight, and neither can the Admiral nor anybody else. All I can do is tell you why I'm fighting and hope that you can learn something from it."

As Akagi walked away, Fubuki stared after her, her face glowing with admiration.

Wow, Akagi is impressive as always, Fubuki thought. But what's more is that she's right… Why did I even come out to train this morning? It wasn't out of habit, or because I felt like I had to… I just want to be useful to everyone. Has that goal changed after Okinawa?

She knew the answer to that. If she had only been working hard up until now because it was something that was required of her, then yes, she could give up at this point. But if she was working hard because it made her feel proud, then no matter how slim the odds of victory were, she wouldn't stop now. Even if she were sunk in battle by the Abyssals, she would never truly be defeated if she could die knowing that she never gave up on her goal.

Yeah. If even Akagi, who lost her sister, can still fight, then what's my excuse? Fubuki smiled confidently and accidentally crushed the orange in her hand in excitement. I won't disappoint Akagi, and more importantly, I won't disappoint myself. Target practice after lunch it is, then!

"So… What do I write here again?"

"It's the resource usage deviation from the standard monthly average aggregate by all Kancolle admirals. Didn't I already explain this to you?"

"Sorry. Mein Gott…"

Bismarck and Drake sat together in the private office, trying to complete the last stack of paperwork that still remained. Shoukaku had shown up to the office yesterday, but Drake had just given her more days off because he heard that Zuikaku was still having trouble moving around by herself. She would be back tomorrow, most likely, but in the meantime, it was just Drake and Bismarck at the office.

"Hey, Bismarck," Drake started. "What do you think about taking the flagship position?"

Bismarck paused to look at him. "You want me to be a flagship?"

"Yeah. I mean, you already know how to do most of the paperwork, and you managed to survive in battle against a Princess, so you're definitely strong enough for it too," Drake explained. "What's wrong? You don't want to do it?"

"Ah, no, it's not that," Bismarck frowned. "I was just wondering if the other girls would accept that… I haven't been here as long as them, and I'm not Japanese either."

"Both of those things go for me as well, and yet I'm still the admiral," Drake pointed out. "If anyone has a problem with it, they can come and talk to me and try and back up their argument. But I've already thought about this, and I can't think of a better choice than you."

Bismarck blushed slightly at that, but quickly looked away. "Then is Shoukaku going to be the secretary ship from now on?"

"Secretary ship?" Drake repeated. "I… I haven't really thought of that. I don't know. Do we really even need one?"

Bismarck glanced back at him. "I would think so."

"It seems this system works fine, though."

"How do you know, sir?" Bismarck asked firmly. "Our fleet hasn't done anything at all since the operation ended. On the battlefield, having two leaders with equal power may not be the best idea."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Drake was forced to admit. "I'll think about it, I guess. What about you? Didn't you want to be the secretary ship at one point?"

Bismarck blinked. "M-Me?"

"Why do you look so surprised? You literally challenged Kaga to fight over it," Drake reminded her.

"Yeah, but that was a while ago," Bismarck said, embarrassed. She pulled her cap down. "Now, though… I don't know."

"Your face is red." Drake wore an amused smirk.

"Of course it is! You reminded me of something embarrassing!"

But to tell the truth, Bismarck was not hesitating out of embarrassment. The secretary ship… That position held special significance. At first, Bismarck had just assumed that it was a rank denoting power and prestige, such as the flagship position. That was certainly how it had been back in the Grand European Fleet. But after Bismarck had gotten the opportunity to observe Kaga's relationship with Drake, she began to see things in a different light. If she became the secretary ship now, would she be able to lead the fleet the same way Kaga had? Would she be able to help her admiral the same way Kaga had?

No. She would not be able to be the type of secretary ship that Kaga was. If she took up the position, she would just be like a standard secretary ship, and she was sure that her admiral would be disappointed at the huge downgrade. She didn't believe that Shoukaku could fill Kaga's shoes either, but if it were Shoukaku instead of her, then at least Shoukaku would be the one disappointing the Admiral, not Bismarck. Bismarck felt bad for thinking that way, but she couldn't deny that this was how she felt… And maybe the Admiral knew this as well, which is why he was hesitant to name a new secretary ship.

The rest of the afternoon continued on silently, with both Drake and Bismarck focusing on the work in front of them. Eventually, the two of them reached the end of the pile, and almost all of the paperwork had been dealt with.

Drake leaned back in his seat and let out a breath of relief. "Finally. Can't believe it took this long."

Bismarck put down her pen, thankful to give her writing hand a rest. "What do we do now? Do we mail this back to London?"

"Yeah. I've also got to scan it and then send it through email," Drake added.

"... Then why didn't we just do this all on the computer in the first place? Surely that would have been faster?"

Drake gave her a look. "Do you even know how to use a computer?"

"O-Of course I do!" Bismarck blushed. "I could figure it out, anyway…"

"Old people and technology never mix well," Drake shook his head as he smiled.

"Who are you calling old!"

"Either way, INFCOM regulations require me to send one copy of each document through email and another physical copy through military mail, so it wouldn't matter," Drake said. "Most of these documents also require signatures anyway. The only thing I usually type out are the combat reports."

"Okay. Then hurry up and send them in so we can get out of here."

"Can't that wait until tomorrow?" Drake sighed.

"Never save for tomorrow what you can do today, sir," Bismarck told him matter-of-factly.

"I can't do it today, though. I'm too tired."

"Here, have some coffee then," Bismarck held out her mug to him.

"You already drank from that cup," Drake said.

"So?"

"I don't want your Nazi germs," Drake smirked teasingly at her.

"What! You should consider yourself blessed to even be in the presence of the Aryan master race!" Bismarck declared, standing up and puffing her chest out.

"The Aryan master race can kiss my ass," Drake grinned. Getting her worked up over dumb things like this never ceased to amuse him.

Bismarck stepped towards Drake "Oh, yeah? Well -"

In her fervor, Bismarck did not notice the wire from the computer that was plugged into a nearby outlet, and she tripped over it. Drake reached out and managed to grab her before she hit the ground, but he could not save the cup of coffee that was in her hand, unfortunately. The two watched with horror as the beverage sailed through the air and doused one of the completed stacks of paperwork in dark brown liquid.

"... Are you fucking kidding me," Drake groaned.

Bismarck leapt out of Drake's arms and rifled through the stack. Luckily they had split the paperwork piles into multiple different stacks so most of the papers remained untouched, but still, many of the files in this particular stack had been ruined.

"Scheisse…" Bismarck frowned.

"Good work, Bismarck," Drake said sarcastically.

She turned to him. "This would have never happened if you hadn't annoyed me!"

"Come on, you can't possibly blame this on me," Drake glared at her.

To Drake's surprise, instead of taking another jab at him, Bismarck just sighed and tossed the ruined papers back onto the desk. "Entschuldigung. I suppose it was my fault."

"Uh… All right. Then you're prepared to make up for it, right?"

Bismarck sat back down and rubbed her forehead as she looked at the stained files. "If I must…"

"Okay. Then I'll print out the files that need to be redone, and you can fill them out again," Drake told her. "Think of it as extra practice."

Bismarck certainly didn't look happy about it, but she nodded nonetheless. Drake printed out new, blank versions of the ruined paperwork and dropped the stack in front of Bismarck.

"I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back to check on your progress," Drake told her as he patted her on the back reassuringly.

"Jawohl…"

Drake headed out of the Administrative Building without a set destination in mind. He didn't like being cooped up in the same spot for too long, especially if it was for work, so he just decided to take a walk around the base. The summer season was starting to fade, and the sun was obscured today by the layer of clouds overhead. Unlike most people, Drake actually liked cloudy days, so he found the atmosphere relatively calming.

Now, then, where should I go?

Almost without knowing it, Drake found himself wandering towards a spot where he had been going fairly often recently. It was that grassy hill that overlooked the beach and the ocean, and he spent more time than he should just standing there, gazing out at the water with his hands in his pockets and the sea breeze dancing around him. However, this time, there was someone else there.

Akagi turned around when she heard Drake's footsteps. Her golden eyes went wide with surprise for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered and saluted. "Admiral."

Drake returned her salute. "Akagi. Good afternoon."

The rear admiral felt slightly awkward. He hadn't really interacted with Akagi after the operation ended, and out of all the ship girls, he felt like she would be the one who would hate him the most for what had happened. He couldn't blame her, of course, but he also did not want to face her. He had been avoiding her, and he guessed that maybe she had been avoiding him as well. But now they were face-to-face, even if it was unintentional.

"Did you come here for the same reason I did?" Akagi immediately asked him.

The question was vague, yet simultaneously so direct that it caught Drake off-guard. "... Yeah."

Akagi nodded. "It's so vast and uniform when you look at it from here, isn't it? The ocean, I mean."

The carrier turned back to face the sea. "It's so tranquil and beautiful that it's easy to forget how many stories it holds. How many bonds were forged on those waves? How many were lost? How many souls rest deep down underneath, lost forever in an eternal slumber?"

Drake stood by silently.

"I am curious, Admiral. What do you think of when you come out here?"

"I'd rather not say," Drake replied.

Akagi looked at him again. "I suppose that's fine. It is your own business, after all. But if you don't mind me asking, does the sight of the sea fill you with positive emotions, or negative recollections?"

Again, Drake remained silent, partly because he didn't even know how to answer that. I've lost so much on those waters, and I've caused so much damage too… And yet, I still feel a sense of wonder and hope every time I look at it. I've never thought about why that is.

Akagi stepped closer to Drake, so close that their bodies were almost touching. Drake thought that maybe she was about to hit him, but he didn't have the willpower to move away.

"Soldiers die in battle all the time, sir," Akagi said. "But as long as those who remain alive continue to fight for the cause that they sacrificed themselves for, then they are never truly dead."

She then walked away, leaving Drake alone on the outcrop. He walked over towards the edge and stared out at the bay's waters. It appeared that Akagi at the very least did not hate him, and from her words, it was clear as to why. Though Kaga may be gone, Akagi did not want to forget the person that Kaga was, and the things that she lived her life for. Drake realized that he definitely did not want to forget either.

After standing on the cliff for another long stretch of time, Drake finally stepped away and headed back onto the streets of the naval base. It was well into the evening now, and he figured that Bismarck was about done with the paperwork. He was about to go back to the Administrative Building, but then decided to make a detour to the base's supermarket, which was basically just a giant Japanese convenience store.

He had been to the market many times, as it was where he and most of the base's residents bought their groceries and other goods. The Tokyo Bay Base was actually a fair bit away from the city itself, and since very few people on base actually owned a car, it was difficult to go to and from the base. Therefore, the supermarket was stocked with all kinds of items, and the residents of the base could usually find what they were looking for there.

The one section that the store was lacking in was their selection of alcohol, and ever since Gangut had drank the one good bottle that Drake had bought from one of his few trips to Tokyo, he did not find anything to replace it with. The store pretty much just sold worse versions of the stuff at Houshou's bar, which meant sake and a few generic brands of beer. Drake liked sake, but he was tired of drinking it at this point.

Maybe I should get something that Bismarck would like. She has been working hard, after all.

He perused the aisles but didn't really know what Bismarck would want. He assumed she would prefer some sort of German beer, but they didn't sell any here. Whatever. I guess Heineken will have to do.

"It's a shame they do not sell any good Italian wine here, wouldn't you say, Rear Admiral?"

That voice… "Admiral Veronese? What are you still doing here?"

Paola Veronese smiled. "It is simply just that our ship, the battleship Legio, was undergoing repairs and has not left yet. But I have been busy and have not been able to come ashore until today, so I am glad to see you are still alive. Che buona fortuna, the both of us, no?"

"If you can call it that."

"Hah. I see you are still as sullen as ever, Richard Drake. I suppose the infernos themselves would have to burn out before we would see a smile grace that serious face of yours."

"Maybe I'll smile for you once all the Abyssals are shattered wrecks on the seafloor," Drake said.

Veronese chuckled. "Then I will look forward to it."

"Are any of the Italian ship girls still around?" Drake then asked out of curiosity.

"Oh, yes. Littorio and Roma have been allowed to wander the base for today before we head back to Italy," Veronese answered. "I do not know exactly where they went, but there is not much to do here, so it should not be too hard to find them if you wanted. If only you had prepared a grand feast or something for us like a proper host would have, eh, rear admiral?"

"Sorry, I've had things more important than a welcoming party on my mind lately," Drake frowned.

"It was a joke, my friend. A bit of levity in these dark times, no?" Veronese's dark eyes twinkled in amusement. "Either way, you should visit Italy someday. We Italians can't resist a good celebration even when inappropriate, so you would be sure to find a nice welcome there regardless."

"I've always wanted to go to Italy, so sure," Drake replied. "But for now, I go where the Navy sends me, I guess."

"Yes. And by God's grace, they will send us to destroy the Abyssals and exact our revenge," Veronese nodded firmly, her eyes ablaze. "Well, then. I should let you get back to your shopping. If I don't see you again before I leave, then good luck, Admiral Drake. Arrivederci."

The two saluted each other before Paola Veronese left. Drake made his purchase and headed back to the Administrative Building, hoping that Bismarck was done by now. When he went up to his office, he heard voices talking from inside, and he wondered if he had another visitor. He tried to open the door, but the door smacked into something, eliciting a yelp of mild surprise from someone inside.

He entered and saw a girl with light brown hair tied in a ponytail looking at him.

"Ah! Scusami, Signore!" the girl bowed.

"It's fine. You're Littorio, right?" Drake recalled.

"Si! I am a battleship of the Regia Marina, sir!" she stated hurriedly.

"I see. So that must be Roma, then," Drake gestured towards the other girl with short, brown hair, who was busy arguing with Bismarck at the desk.

Littorio sighed. "Yes. I apologize for my sister. I saw Bismarck sitting in here and I thought to pay her a visit as a courtesy, but then she and Roma just started arguing…"

"Yeah, Bismarck seems to make friends with just about anybody," Drake said with a sigh of his own as he put the beer down on a nearby shelf.

As he walked over to the desk, Bismarck finally noticed him and stopped yelling at Roma. The Italian looked confused as to why Bismarck suddenly halted their lively argument, so she turned around.

"Oh, don't mind me. Please finish your pleasant conversation," Drake said.

"I-It's not what it looks like! This cretin just came in here and started making a fuss!" Bismarck quickly tried to say.

"Huh!? What nonsense! This German fool was the one who began throwing out insults first!"

"Because you were taunting me! Italian inkompetent!"

Drake shook his head at the absurdity of it. Deciding that it was pointless to try and find out who was actually at fault here (in all likelihood both of them were), he just ignored the argument. He turned to Roma.

"I don't believe we've met, Miss. I am Rear Admiral Richard Drake from the US Liberation Navy," he introduced.

The Italian tried to compose herself as she pushed up her glasses. "I am Roma, a battleship in Italy's Regia Marina. The pleasure is mine, sir."

"Ah, so you're Roma," Drake nodded. "I saw Admiral Veronese just a few minutes ago, actually. I remember she said something about 'hoping that Roma wouldn't cause her any trouble this time.'"

"She said that?" Roma looked shocked. "But I - never mind. I must go. Good day, sir."

Roma shot one last glare at Bismarck before departing with her sister.

"Good job getting that pig out of here, Admiral," Bismarck nodded in appreciation.

Drake gave her a look of disapproval. "How about you just don't get into a fight next time? Is that possible for you? Well, whatever. Did you finish the documents?"

"Yes, sir! Here they are." She held out her hand proudly and gestured to the completed stack of paperwork. "It's all right. You can praise me more."

"Why would I praise you for redoing the files that you destroyed in the first place?" Drake said. "But anyway, I got some beer if you want it. It's pretty much all they had, so it's the best we're going to get."

Drake picked up the pack of beer bottles and put it down on the table. Bismarck's eyes lit up.

"Oh? This is Dutch beer, but it will do, I suppose," Bismarck smiled. "Let's crack them open, sir! How do the kids in your country say it nowadays…? Let's smash!"

"You mean 'let's get smashed,'" Drake blushed a bit. "Old people really shouldn't be trying to use sayings like that…"

"Hey! I told you not to call me old!"

The two spent the next couple hours drinking and chatting in the office. One of the things Drake had wanted to ask Bismarck about was how Germany was like back in World War II. He had read plenty of books on Nazi Germany, but hearing how things were from an actual person who lived through it was different. Unfortunately, since Bismarck's life during WWII was so short and because she mostly lived out at sea, she could not tell him anything that he didn't already know from his reading.

He then asked her about modern-day Germany. He had never been there before, but like all of Europe, he was interested in going someday. Bismarck didn't seem to know much about that either since she mostly spent her ship girl life in London or Japan so far, but she too said that she wanted to go there. From that conversation, he came to understand that Bismarck loved her country, and though she sometimes regurgitated Nazi talking points and still dressed like a Nazi, it was clear that her true allegiance was to Germany and its citizens rather than the Nazi Party.

"All right, I think that's enough drinks for one night," Drake eventually said.

"Eh? But I'm still sober," Bismarck complained. "Even after all that harsh paperwork…"

"It wouldn't be good if we wandered around the base like a pair of drunkards, would it?" Drake pointed out.

"But I see that pink-haired aircraft carrier doing it all the time."

"Well… You don't want to be like her," Drake replied. "Come on, let's go. We have to scan and send in these documents tomorrow anyway, and I don't want to do that with a hangover."

The two stepped out of the office and Drake locked the office up for the day. However, they were met with some unexpected visitors in the hallway.

"Guten abend, friends," Vice Admiral Ehrhard greeted with a smirk. Behind him stood the taller Vice Admiral Bremerhaven.

Bismarck snapped to a salute, and Drake just gave them a nod.

"I see you're still around. Did you need something?" Drake asked, wondering what they were doing here.

"We do, and that 'something' is Bismarck," Ehrhard said, getting straight to the point. "It's about time she came back to Germany, no?"

"What?" Drake narrowed his eyes.

"You heard me, American," Ehrhard pushed. "Bismarck is our battleship. She has wasted enough time here in Japan. With our recent defeat to the Abyssals, all the countries are strengthening their naval defenses, and Germany is no different. Part of Japan has already fallen to the Abyssals, and Germany will not continue to let one of our greatest naval assets risk her life for a doomed country."

"Admiral Helmholtz has ordered Bismarck to return to Germany. None of us have any say in it," Bremerhaven added a bit more diplomatically.

That only made Drake even more frustrated, though. "Then tell Admiral Helmholtz that he can come here himself and try and take her if he dares."

Ehrhard frowned. "Oh? Is that how it's going to be?"

"Wait," Bismarck stepped in, "I was never told about any of this."

"It was finalized last night," Bremerhaven explained. "We leave tomorrow."

Drake scowled. I already lost Kaga… I won't lose anybody else.

"No one from my fleet is going anywhere," Drake stated. "If you have a problem with that, take it up with America."

"And that's just the problem with you Americans. Your arrogance is astounding," Ehrhard countered. "This order most likely comes down from the Kaiser himself. Whether you throw a tantrum or not, you cannot stop it."

"You know what? Go fuck yourself," Drake shot back.

"Eh? Fuck you!" Ehrhard yelled back. "Bismarck! Come! You are forbidden from being around this filth any longer!"

Ehrhard moved towards Bismarck, but Drake stepped in front of her and pushed the German admiral back. Anger flashed across Ehrhard's face, and without thinking, he threw a punch which hit Drake in the side of the jaw. Everyone froze in shock after that. Even Ehrhard, the one who threw the punch, looked surprised at himself. The calm did not last, though.

Red-hot rage coursed through Drake's mind, and without even bothering to go with the CQC he was trained to use, he launched a punch with all his strength. His fist smashed into Ehrhard's face, flooring the German admiral. For some reason, Drake felt a burst of pleasure. All the frustrations from the past week suddenly manifested in front of Drake. Though he knew that Ehrhard had nothing to do with the torture he had been feeling lately, it still felt so good to hit him. Before Ehrhard could even get up, Drake lunged at him and cocked his fist back for another punch. His mind was in a daze, and all he thought about was releasing his stress on the unfortunate target of his anger.

But before he could slam his fist into Ehrhard's face once more, someone grabbed his arm from behind, snapping Drake out of his trance. At first he thought it was Bismarck, but when he turned and looked, he caught a glimpse of a bearded face and an American flag ascott.

Holy fucking shit…

A split-second later, Drake found himself sailing through the air. He slammed against the wall and unceremoniously slid down onto the hallway floor, his vision swimming.

The three Germans watched with amazement and surprise as the newcomer made quick work of Drake. Like the rear admiral, this man was also dressed in an American officer's uniform. He then turned his cold, stony gaze to the two German admirals, who went rigid.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Bismarck yelled at the man and roughly grabbed him by the shoulder.

The man's expression didn't change. "Take your hands off me, soldier."

Bismarck grit her teeth angrily. "Shut up! I'll make you pay for -"

Before Bismarck even knew what was happening, she also found herself in the air. Her fall was broken by her two German admirals, in whose direction the man had tossed her. She awkwardly landed on top of them, causing all three of them to cry out in pain as they tumbled together.

"What a farce," the man muttered. He then walked over to Drake and lifted him up. "On your feet, Rear Admiral."

Hurriedly, Drake saluted. "Sir!"

The bearded man was Fleet Admiral Van Dyke, one of the heads of the US Liberation Navy. He was promoted upon the ascension of the Citizens' Council after the Great Churning, but nobody knew where he came from before that. It was rumored that he was part of a covert unit either in the CIA or one of its offshoots, but there was never any official documentation on that. Either way, it was no surprise that he was able to disable Drake so easily; Fleet Admiral Van Dyke was the developer of the CQC curriculum that all branches of the US military taught.

"Come with me," Van Dyke said to Drake before turning and walking down the hallway.

Drake shot a look at Bismarck and the German admirals, who were trying to recover from the sudden blows. He didn't want to leave Bismarck with them, but he had no choice. Van Dyke saw Drake punch an officer from another allied nation in the face, and so Van Dyke could easily discharge him from the navy right on the spot if he wanted to. Reluctantly, Drake followed Van Dyke, unsure of what was about to happen.

"That was quite the sloppy technique back there, Rear Admiral," Van Dyke said.

"My apologies, sir. I was acting in self-defense," Drake tried to explain.

"Right… Regardless, you realize that what you did was incredibly dumb."

"Yes, sir. I apologize."

They stepped out of the Administrative Building and began walking towards the docks.

"This is the first time we have met, Admiral Drake, isn't it?" Van Dyke then asked.

"I believe so, sir."

Van Dyke pulled out a cigarette and paused to light it. "... Anyway, this may be the first time we are meeting, but I have known about you for some time now. Your performance at Tangier was very impressive."

"Thank you, sir," Drake said, a bit taken aback at how Van Dyke randomly brought that up.

"Most people would not have made the decision you did," Van Dyke continued. "Oh, don't get me wrong - it's not morals I'm talking about here. In my line of work, I have seen all kinds of people, and in my opinion, the average person is no more than a few steps up from a feral beast… And it only takes a really desperate situation to turn them right back into what they actually are. So no, I am not talking about morals. I truly believe that most people would eventually sacrifice the lives of strangers if they were placed in a desperate enough situation. However, what most people lack is the ability to think in desperate situations, and to think clearly."

Van Dyke paused again to let out a puff of smoke. "If the average person had been put in the situation you were in at Tangier, he would almost certainly die. The average person would either not figure out how to utilize the lives around him, or he would debate with himself whether it is the right thing to do before he actually gets around to doing it. But with you, you saw the opportunity to use the citizens of that city, and you took it. There was no hesitation."

Drake thought Van Dyke was praising him, but he certainly didn't feel good upon hearing those words. In fact, it just made him sick.

Van Dyke glanced at Drake, then smirked. "But you probably feel bad about the whole thing, huh? And I assume you're trying not to think about this, so sorry for bringing it up, but back at Okinawa, you essentially did the same thing. You sacrificed those destroyers so you and your ship girl fleet could escape. Am I right?"

"I… That's not true," Drake tried to deny as alarms went off in his head. If the Navy thought that he intentionally did something like that, then it could be very bad for him.

"Yes it is," Van Dyke stated. "But relax, Rear Admiral. I'm not here to get you in trouble. My point is that you understand the true nature of this conflict. If we're not willing to sacrifice a few humans, then the Abyssals are going to kill us all. The Abyssals are unlike any enemy that humanity has ever faced before, and they do not care about their own kind. All they care about is killing humans, and they will take as many losses as they need to in order to achieve that goal. How can we ever hope to defeat them if we can't do the same?"

Van Dyke stopped walking when they reached the docks. Drake stopped as well, and his eyes went wide as he saw the ship docked in the waters in the distance.

"That's the Freedom's Sacrifice. Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Van Dyke nodded to the battleship.

Drake's expression darkened. "All right. What is the point of this? What do you want from me, sir?"

Van Dyke fixed him with an icy stare. "I want you to kill Abyssals."

"Kill Abyssals?"

"And what do you want?" Van Dyke pressed. "Don't you want to kill them too?"

"Yes, sir," Drake said firmly.

"But can you? That is the question," Van Dyke then countered, almost as if he had set Drake up. "You failed at Okinawa. Your secretary ship was sunk. You lost our fleet's airpower, and tens of thousands died. What makes you think that you can defeat the Abyssals after that?"

Drake opened his mouth to form a rebuttal, but he found that he couldn't think of anything.

"I'm waiting, Rear Admiral."

Clenching his fists in frustration, Drake searched for a reason. "I… I don't know. But… I want to kill them…! That much I know!"

Van Dyke took one last drag of his cigarette. "Fine, then. I won't report what I saw today, and we can both forget about what happened back in that building. However, you are being reassigned, Rear Admiral."

"Reassigned?" Drake repeated dumbly. "B-But I'm the admiral here! I have more experience with ship girls than anyone else in our navy! You can't just reassign me!"

"Calm down. Nobody said it would be permanent."

"Then for how long am I to be 'reassigned?'"

"That's still pending," Van Dyke answered.

Drake frowned. "So it is permanent."

"No, it isn't," Van Dyke shook his head. "Listen to me, Rear Admiral. You are being reassigned whether you like it or not, and if you don't, then you can consider your career in the navy over. It's up to you whether you get to come back to this base or not… Be at Freedom's Sacrifice at seven p.m. tomorrow. Pack your essentials and say your goodbyes."

Drake wanted to argue, but he knew it would be futile. All he could do was watch Van Dyke walk away.