I would like to thank the people who have already favorited and followed this story. But enough of that let's get on with the show.
Disclaimer: I don't own Azur Lane or any other properties I make references to.
Chapter 2: The Meeting
The remainder of the meeting passed by in a blur for Commander. It had really only been an opportunity for Supreme Commander Roscoe and Chairwoman Hara to thank him more fully, but they also imparted more immediate orders for the new commander. He was to first remove all signs of his name from his uniforms and personal belongings, destroy anything personal that may compromise his new status of not existing, and report at the berth of the Aircraft Carrier Nimitz at 0700 the next day for transport to Mare Island Naval Shipyard at the north end of San Francisco Bay in California where he would meet his new ship….subordinate….thing. He still didn't know what to think about the existence of ship girls, but he figured that he would make a judgement when appropriate, that is to say, after meeting Nashville. Final goodbyes were exchanged, and he was passed a file of, "pertinent information," and directions to read it on route to his destination.
He was dismissed and left the room to be greeted once again by the two-nation guard detail. As he was walking to leave, file in hand, he heard a joke at his expense from one of the royal marines who said softly, "Looks to had a rough time of it, huh?" Commander couldn't find it in him to comment but he sure was inclined to agree, he probably looked pale and may be trembling a bit. He chided himself to grow a backbone. So, he took a deep breath to steady himself and walked away.
He found his way back to Captain Baxter's office and he knocked. "Enter," came the voice of a man that he would come to miss. As he entered, the captain's normally jovial demeanor dropped at the sight of the clearly shaken younger officer.
Though any question remained unasked Commander answered the most obvious one, "I'm getting a reassignment sir. Top secret stuff. I'm shipping out tomorrow," He then forced a smile and added, in a sad attempt at humor, "Looks like you're going to have to wait another twenty-five years for answers to non-questions."
Baxter for his part chuckled out of pity more than anything. Though he lacked details he could tell that whatever was dropped on the commander was something big, so he felt some activity of camaraderie was in order. He waved Commander to take a seat across from his desk as he rose from his own seat to an adjacent shelf.
"If you are to take on top secret stuff that I can't know about surely you can keep this a secret," said Baxter as he moved a few books out of the way to reveal a bottle of whisky and a few glasses. He retrieved the bottle and two glasses and turned to go back to his desk.
The commander objected, "Sorry sir, I don't drink. I made a promise a long time ago that I wouldn't drink. But I will keep this a secret."
This made the older man stop and switch his view between his former subordinate and his favorite spirit a few times. He finished his return to his desk and sat down saying, "More for me. Go get yourself a cola or something from the vending machine outside," so Commander did and returned to find Baxter with two glasses already filled.
They drank with no further words exchanged. There was nothing worth toasting. Once they finished both of their drinks they stood in unison. The commander saluted his former superior which was returned. Baxter's hand dropped in front of him, wanting a handshake. He got one and tried to comfort the young man, "You've got a good head on your shoulders Lieutenant. I can tell you're scared and that's fine, it reminds you that you are alive and that you still have a chance. I don't know what you're getting into but if you really are the man I've come to know this past year, you'll do just fine."
"Thank you, sir," responded Commander plainly. He didn't find it in himself to correct Captain Baxter on his promotion.
"Take care."
"You too."
And the commander left Captain Baxter's office for the last time. As he exited the command building, he found that the weather had cleared up. The sun shined and white clouds followed their leaders across the sky. This brightened his disposition slightly, enough that he was able to recover from the shock of his earlier revelations.
He returned to his post and worked the remainder of the day on his job determined to do his part to the very end. He ran into the ensign that he met this morning and he apologized to him for having come off as condescending. The ensign obviously wasn't expecting anything, much less an apology, so he accepted it out of surprise more than anything.
The hard part was the end of the day. He found a box to store any notes or other things that he would need in his codebreaking efforts at sea. He found a trash bag for any personal items. Photos of his personal accomplishments were easy to get to rid of. His experiences of the day, particularly finding out he was chosen for being a nobody, had given him a reality check that exposed the pride that led to his displaying those. As an asocial unmarried man, the most important people in his life was his immediate family. His parents and two siblings smiled at him and he couldn't let them go. He removed the photo from it's frame and folded it up to put in his breast pocket, fortunately nothing was written on the photo that can identify anybody. He finished up and left his desk.
He stopped by the trash incinerator and cleverly dropped his trash bag at the front of the line then returned to his quarters. Fortunately, the military made him into a man of few possessions, so his packing was easy. He ate dinner at the mess and turned in for the night, but not before removing his name from all his uniforms and all other things that he owned.
He arose the next morning and got ready with his same routine as usual. He finished it in time and even managed to grab a bite to eat with enough time to report to the appointed place at the appointed time. As he arrived, he found a number of sailors crowding the gangway to ascend into the steel behemoth that rose above the dock. He got in line, duffel in hand, and moved forward with the crowd until he arrived to the front next to a Chief Petty Officer with a clipboard. Commander was at a loss as to how he would explain his business to the senior enlisted man without a name but fortunately this sailor was on top of his job and noticed an unfamiliar face. He saluted and asked, "Are you that commander that high command was sending?"
"Yes, I am," assumed Commander. He hoped he was the only commander being received today.
"Awesome. Sir, could you please follow me?" And the Chief Petty Officer led the way up the gangway, leaving a few of his comrades to handle the rest of the embarking sailors. As they entered the ship it became abundantly clear that many of the passageways were narrow enough to inhibit conversation, which was compounded by sailors moving about their duties getting a ship underway. The Chief Petty Officer stopped by a door that revealed crew quarters. He pointed to a bunk and said, "This rack is yours for the next few hours. Please don't get too comfortable and unpack. Once we're out of the sound a sailor will come get you. Do you have any questions?"
Commander shook his head and returned the salute sent his way. He wouldn't unpack but he would get some shut eye while he had the time. A gut feeling told him that sleep might be illusive for the next few days.
After a few hours of getting some sleep the commander was awoken by the same sailor as before who took him up some flights of stairs and to a hatch that would lead onto the flight deck. A deck crewmember in white attire indicating a safety officer handed Commander ear protection before leading him onto the deck. The commander had half expected to sail for California, but it seemed that the powers that be wanted him there faster. He followed the white shirt sailor out across the deck, and they approached a tiltrotor Osprey that already had engines spinning for a faster takeoff. It seemed that the powers that be really wanted him in California. He understood the threat but seriously what's with the panic? He boarded to find that he was the only passenger in the large transport aircraft. He saluted the deck officer to indicate that he had done his job and was dismissed, and he then left. Commander noticed a flight engineer as the door closed with whom he confirmed the destination with no extra conversation or pleasantries. Geez, he wasn't hoping for pomp wherever he went but it felt like people couldn't get rid of him fast enough. It didn't matter though as he gave it a second thought. He didn't know anybody enough to take it personally and they didn't know him. They had their orders and so did he.
The flight engineer retreated to the front of the aircraft after making sure Commander was properly buckled in and after a take off checklist was read off, loud enough to be heard clear towards the back where Commander sat, the craft lurched skyward and the deck of the Nimitz promptly disappeared.
A few minutes passed and the commander checked to see if he was being observed at all. He wasn't. So, he removed the file given to him by Roscoe and Hara from his rucksack to begin reading it.
The page on top was a deeper dive into the capabilities of ship girls. It expanded on some of the things already explained to him. They are stronger and faster than normal humans and can take and give a lot of hurt. That was expected. They could also only have their full-size hulls or rigging active at once. What wasn't expected was what came next. It revealed that ship girls remembered their original wartime service as normal ships. As such they can draw upon their pasts and make judgments based on their own, "life," experiences. The document also explained how one of the main advantages that ship girls have over normal warships is that they all have special abilities not afforded to manned ships. A list was provided of some of these abilities. A lot were kind of underwhelming. Marginal increases in armor or firepower or influencing others' armor or firepower. Some had these same enhancing abilities but with greater extents. The abilities that intrigued him the most were ones that repaired other ship girls in battle and the ones that debuffed the enemy. He noted that some of the more notable ships had specific abilities that lended themselves to historical acts. It also explained that a quirk of wisdom cubes being influenced by the will of humanity makes the more famous ships generally stronger than the more unknown ones. He took a moment to ponder this fact. Fame is relative so maybe there are some more factors at play in ship girl creation? He then thought of some ships that he knew of. If they already are ship girls, he'd wager his money that ships like the Enterprise or the Bismarck are quite powerful. These two were glorious in their time for their daring but where does that leave the ships famous for their demise? How powerful would Arizona or Indianapolis be? The documents in the file didn't give him a roster of ship girls from around the world but his search gave him an outline of the experiences of Nashville.
She's a Brooklyn-class light cruiser that was originally launched in late 1937. Her file explained of how prewar goodwill trips or neutrality cruises were a pretense for some more clandestine actions. She transported 25 million dollars' worth of gold from the UK to the Eagle Union, supported diplomacy to Brazil to help keep them from joining the Crimson Axis, moved Eagle Union soldiers to Iceland, and was in the Bahamas for a neutrality cruise that may have had the objective to find the Iron Blood Prinz Eugen. He supposed that Eagle Union record taking probably failed for that last one.
Her wartime experience wasn't too impressive save a few things. She escorted the task force responsible for the Doolittle Raid and sunk a Sakura picket boat on lookout for the fleet before it could expose the operation's location. She was a flagship in Alaska during the Battle of Midway but spent most of the war in the South Pacific, again often as a flagship. All her experience was as shore bombardment and air attack defense, she never engaged other warships. Nevertheless, she earned ten battle stars, more than any of her sister ships. "Not bad," thought commander, "At least she is a veteran at sea." She even seemed to be a favored flagship of General Douglas MacArthur. "Not bad again."
Commander considered Nashville's track record. She was often faced with long odds against the mighty Sakura surface fleet but was never under circumstances to engage them. Is avoiding combat considered lucky for a warship? The few times she was damaged she seemed to be saved by luck. A turret fire was swiftly extinguished before reaching the magazine. A bomber barely missed the bow buckling the hull but not breaking it. Luck seemed to run out for Nashville though with a kamikaze struck her in the Philippines, but she survived all the way until the end of the war. He supposed other ships with worse luck had sunk to kamikazes. Her tale ended with her being sold to Chile where she served until the early eighties when she was finally scrapped.
Commander's mind rolled back into his thoughts earlier about fame being relative. Fame here is not necessarily fame there. And that leaves infamy out of the equation all together. While he was certain that Nashville wouldn't be the strongest ship girl due to him having never heard of her, he wondered how much her experiences would contribute to her power. At the moment he was banking on her close associations with General MacArthur and ten battle stars that would gain her any sort of fame and thus power. He further considered his mission. He bet that he was given a ship that was the best of both worlds when it came to good in a fight and subtle enough for the more clandestine activities. On that note her experience with cloak-and-dagger work will no doubt come in handy. Her file also mentioned a proficiency with gunnery in both accuracy and rate of fire and that she speaks Spanish.
The second page of her profile detailed her activities since being re-launched a year ago. She hasn't seen combat but has been employed in transporting VIPs and ultra-sensitive cargo from place to place following her shakedown. She has never been assigned to any fleet, and because she hasn't seen combat as a ship girl her abilities are unknown. He felt a small sense of commonality in their shared unknowns. Her soon to be former commanding officer's comments were included, and he said mainly lukewarm positive things about her performance. While he didn't say anything bad in particular Commander still got the impression that she had been kept on a tight leash. Nothing on her personality though. Did she have one? Do ship girls have personalities? So many questions and so few answers. This was probably going to be a running theme for his whole sailing career because it sure was in his codebreaking career. Maybe it's just a navy thing?
He turned to the next page in the file. It listed some assets that he had to work with and liberties that he can take. The biggest asset among these where what amounted to a blank check to be used for whatever costs may be needed in the hunt for the Siren Superweapons. With the operation's status as top secret and high priority they can dock for repair and resupply wherever convenient, so long as it is subtle. Also, he and Nashville can mingle ashore anywhere for the purpose of information gathering. He has the authority to act as the law on the high seas. The greatest liberty afforded them though is the authority to disobey direct orders from superior officers, the exceptions being of course the Supreme Commander of Azur Lane and the Chairperson of the Crimson Axis. He humored himself with thoughts of being a modern-day privateer for a moment before returning to his reading.
Time passed and Commander just got to a very juicy part of the file given him. While the whole file had been labeled, "Top Secret," this one was labeled, "Above Top Secret," and a cursory skim of the first page revealed what it was about. It was the report of an undertaking called, "Operation Argonautica." He knew that this was the reported findings of his predecessor and he was about to dig in when his eyes caught movement. The flight engineer standing made the commander shut his file quickly, who then told him that they have arrived over their destination and will be landing at Mare Island Naval Shipyard in about five minutes and then returned to his seat.
Commander stowed his things and waited for landing. Once landed, he gathered his stuff and moved for the door that as it dropped down revealed a now familiar face.
Commander saluted and said, "Supreme Commander Roscoe, it's good to see you here."
"Same to you Commander. I trust your journey here was uneventful?"
"It was. I was able to get in some good reading with the file you gave me."
"How far did you get in it?"
"I stopped on the first page of my predecessor's report as we came in for a landing. Some real interesting reading it was," remarked the Commander as the two men marched away from the aircraft, "So where to now?"
"We'll drop off your bags aboard the Nashville and then we shall go meet Chairwoman Hara in the command center who is collecting Nashville as we speak."
XXXXXXXX
Nashville stood inside her bridge awaiting more specific orders from her captain. He himself was waiting to be assigned a berth number so that they can dock and get their cargo off loaded. Nashville understood the silence of her commanding officer, she too was using it to reflect on the close calls of the past few weeks. She and her captain had somehow managed to cross the Atlantic all the way from Scapa Flow to Newark and then on through the Panama Canal to here in San Francisco. She hated how there were submarines at the most inopportune times but what she hated most was that she had no way to defend herself other than sailing as fast as she could. At least the intelligence guys helped her avoid the thick of it. But no matter how one looked at it blockade running through Siren fleets was risky business and, in her opinion, her captain was not suited for the work. She saw Captain Geoff Spencer for what he was. A glory hound angry to be relegated to a, "glorified mail service." His pride made him spiteful and she was the only one around. But she was a ship girl and one that would be seriously reprimanded for any physical action she could take against a human. So, she took his orders, did her best because that is what she does, and never spoke her opinions at all. He treated her as a weapon or a ride so she would be that weapon or ride. She despised that part about him, in fact, she couldn't think of much of anything good to say about Captain Spencer. She wanted more; she knew she could do more. And if nothing else she wanted to see her sisters. She knew some of them were like her now but the last time she saw one of them was Brooklyn back in the 80's before she was sold for scrap.
Orders finally came down and she pulled into berth three after ordered to do such. She was tied in and immediately felt when dock workers boarded to offload her cargo. She didn't remember what it was because she didn't care. What was immediately strange to the seemingly young woman though was when she felt someone who clearly wasn't a dock worker board her. A woman with a sword? What did she want? Whoever this was she knew her way around and found her way to the bridge and broke Captain Spencer from whatever it was he was doing; Nashville wasn't paying attention to him. She knew immediately who it was and took schadenfreude in the captain's surprised expression because she cleverly forgot to warn him. Captain and subordinate saluted Chairwoman Hara. Nashville didn't follow the conversation at all until she heard something musical to her ears.
The presently official Chairwoman stated, "Captain Spencer enclosed in this envelope are your new orders. Report to Alameda Naval Air station by 1500 today. You are dismissed."
If it were anyone else was saying those words Nashville would have danced and jumped with glee, her, "assets," be damned. But she reigned herself in just barely. No matter her struggles she still cracked a smile. The captain turned to her and saw her expression and in turn she saw the reality check in his eyes. He wasn't nearly as awesome as he thought he was. Nevertheless, Spencer thanked her for her service under him and left her bridge for the last time to pack his things. She turned to the officer before her.
For her part, Eriko Hara had noticed the strained exchange between the human captain and the kansen. She was relieved that now Nashville would be able to do what she was meant to do under a man Eriko herself was certain would let her be herself. Such feelings didn't surprise her. After all she had chosen to value a career over starting any family, so she found herself alone a lot. She also found herself thinking of kansen as surrogate daughters of sorts. So, in a motherly sort of way, she felt the need to ask the kansen before her about her past relationship. "Do you not like that man? And don't worry, you can speak freely."
Nashville sighed. She took a moment to select her words carefully and filter out some of the profanity inappropriate for such a superior officer despite her allowance to speak freely, "I really didn't like him. He looked too much," as she folded her arms under her bust and lifted her arms slightly to drive her point home, "and he just wasn't a good officer."
Hara nodded and said, "Not everyone can be a MacArthur," referring to Nashville's past and yet she didn't expect a rebuttal as fiercely given as the one she would hear next.
"I don't need a MacArthur, ma'am. I need…," trailed off Nashville. She wasn't too sure how to put in few words all the things she wanted in a commanding officer, so she settled on the first thing that came to mind. It was something that she admitted sounded cheesy in her mind. "I need a competent gentleman."
Nashville couldn't believe she just said that. What was she? A damsel in distress? A princess that is nothing without a prince? No. She wasn't any of those and she wouldn't abide with being one either. She was a warship with the body of a human woman for god's sake. A warrior. A proud one too. She could snap any man in half if she really wanted to. Whatever the case may be, if she needed an officer, she wanted one higher quality than the one she just felt leave her hull.
Hara's amused face mortified Nashville further. Nashville felt her face heat up with embarrassment and Hara laughed for the briefest of moments before she calmed down and placed a comforting hand on the kansen's shoulder. Hara looked sincerely into Nashville's eyes and said, "You may just have had your wish granted. You're getting a reassignment. I can't tell you what it is right now, but your new commanding officer strikes me as a respectful man looking to do his very best."
If Nashville was on the verge of dancing upon hearing Spencer's transfer, she was going over that edge now. But instead of dancing she found herself embracing the shorter sakura woman. Finally, she would have her chance. A chance to do not only what she was made to do but what she wanted to do. She wanted to serve her country. From the very beginning that is all she wanted. And she felt the past year as a delivery service was a waste. She was fine with supporting shore assaults but carrying cargo wasn't for her.
Hara overcame her surprise of being held by the kansen and returned the hug. She was also relieved because it seemed that Nashville let bygones be bygones when it came to historical relations between the Eagle Union and the Sakura Empire. She somewhat dreaded her duty of fetching Nashville seeing as how some Azur Lane ships struggle with moving on from past offenses. She didn't blame them though. Much blood was shed by everyone and she knew that her anxieties were reflected by Grayson Roscoe in associating with Crimson Axis kansen.
Hara begrudgingly ruined the moment by saying, "We'll meet my counterpart from Azur Lane and your new commanding officer in the command center. So, if you're ready let's get going."
XXXXXXXX
The walk from the helipad to the Nashville was uneventful nevertheless the elder royal navy officer made surprisingly good conversation with Commander. They spoke about causal things such as hopes for what to do after the war and it was revealed to Commander that the old man wanted to retire more than anything else and spoil his grandchildren. Commander didn't really know what to do after the war. He always figured he would just take whatever life threw at him. He knew he wanted to eventually find a nice girl and settle down but anything more specific was up in the air. They eventually arrived at the berth of what appeared to the commander as a rather antiquated warship.
"There she is Commander. The Nashville. Your new home and subordinate for the foreseeable future. Is she not beautiful?" declared Roscoe as he gestured to the hull and waved his hand from bow to stern as if already introducing her person to the commander.
Commander had to admit, she was an attractive vessel. He would describe her as sleek and trim. He marveled at the overt firepower afforded to one vessel. Fifteen six-inch guns were arranged in triple turrets that if what he read was true was able to maintain a collective fire rate of 150 round per minute. He betted that Nashville chewed through ammunition like no other. He next noted her secondary armament with her aviation facilities and her twin smokestacks that rose from deck between the two superstructures. The whole ensemble was brought together in an anti-torpedo dazzle camouflage scheme. He noticed one thing ostensibly missing though. No torpedoes. He of course knew from the files he read that none were listed but he still hoped against hope they were just missing in the document and not on the ship. He stymied any hopes of other things he would have liked.
Roscoe broke the commander's concentration by leading the way up the gangway to the nearest crew quarters to the entrance and had the commander drop off his things. Roscoe was getting absolutely giddy for some reason. His disposition had brightened as he told the commander, "I have always loved the feeling of boarding a ship. It was that feeling on my own grandfather's fishing boat that made me joint the navy." Roscoe's smile took on a nostalgic turn and he reminisced, "I still remember my first posting as a midshipman aboard the HMS Tiger in 1975. But enough about me, we mustn't dally any longer. To the command center."
The travel to the command center went nearly unnoticed by the two men. They entered and were promptly directed towards a conference room. As they approached, the two-nation detail was posted as they were constituted the day before at Kitsap. No body search this time though. They entered the room with Roscoe leading the way. As he stepped aside Commander easily spotted Chairwoman Hara. But his attention was quickly grabbed away by the beauty standing next to her.
One thought flew through Commander's mind as he fought to keep his jaw from dropping, "OH NO SHE'S HOT!"
Commander could tell in an instant that Nashville's garb was meant to enhance her physique by being tight in some of the right places and revealing in the rest of those right places. Is this what Hara meant when she said, "generous proportions," yesterday? How could he have thought they would be generally large as in tall yet still proportioned like a normal person? He berated himself for being so stupid. Of course, a generously proportioned being that could normally pass as a human meant curves for days and a bosom to match. She had on a dress that clasped around her neck in a choker with two thick straps of fabric that supported a two-tone dress with white over her breasts and down her belly in a vertical stripe with deep, almost crimson, red along her sides. The dress terminated not far down her thighs and she had slits up the sides that went all the way up to her hips showing, dear god, black panty straps. She had dark grey thigh-highs that revealed a few inches of lightly tanned flesh between them and her dress. She also had on equally dark grey fingerless gloves that stopped below her armpits.
Finally, his attention shifted to her face. She was smiling at him. Her features were on the softer side and if he could describe them in a word he would choose, "cute," over something like, "gorgeous." Her ash blonde hair was loosely waved and it reached about midway down her back.
So far so good. While she did have a body and face to die for, she still looked completely human except for one thing. Her eyes were red, nearly as deeply crimson as her dress's sides. Rubies came to mind.
Fortunately, the commander's observations were over in an instant. He was sure that his glance would be appraised as exactly that, an appraisal, and not him being a pervert. He saw her rubies take him in from top to bottom so if worst comes to worst, he can say she did the same to him.
Roscoe ushered him forth and Hara did the same with Nashville until they met halfway. Commander noticed that she had heels on and that even then she still only reached eye level. He wasn't too shocked with this, what with him breaking six feet two inches tall. Once both parties stopped Nashville saluted her new commander and introduced herself with a slight southern accent, "It's nice to meet you commander. I'm Nashville. I look forward to working with you from here on." And she started smiling again.
Commander returned the salute and the introduction, "Hi Nashville I'm Commander. I can't say that I have any other name at the moment. But I still look forward to working alongside you too." He dropped his hand forward to ask a handshake of her. Her smile grew a bit wider and she obliged.
Once they were complete, they were sat down next to each other by the high commanders present and this time Hara spoke first, "It's nice to see you here commander. It's a real weight off our shoulders. But anyway, we'll keep this little meeting brief with you so that you two can get underway with preparations for your new mission."
She continued, "I just finished informing Nashville of what your mission is to be, what each of your roles are in the operation, and the sort of liberties that you too are able to take. There is only a few pieces of business that we need to take care of with you."
Roscoe finally spoke up, "Seeing as how you are to be taking on a ferocious foe and we do not want to send you two ill prepared, a drydock has been cleared for the purpose of a retrofit of miss Nashville." Commander heard Nashville let out a surprised gasp next to him and she nodded in rapid succession. This was a good day for her. Roscoe then continued on to some of the finer details. He first turned to Nashville to say, "You will be receiving a new powerplant that will boost your speed and fuel efficiency, not to mention precipitate easier maintenance and you will be installed with the latest sonar, a depth charge launcher, and a sizable cyberwarfare suite." He then turned to Commander, "You will also have the opportunity to alter any selection of armaments or defensive tools. You can also request and receive any sort of configuration of systems that you can think of. If there are any alterations that you see fit, it will be done but keep in mind, retrofits do not take a day and the more complex thing you ask for the longer it will take to go to sea. The sightings of your first siren superweapon are at the end of the file given we gave you yesterday. Finally, a gadget to assist in your codebreaking efforts, courtesy of Iron Blood Research and Development."
Roscoe took out what appeared to be a smart phone about six inches from corner to corner and handed it to commander. Roscoe explained, "Aside from functioning as a normal cell phone or radio that has all the processing power of a supercomputer. But that isn't what is most groundbreaking." He set it down and tapped the screen twice while holding down what must be the power button and from where the camera would be appeared a projection of a larger screen and keyboard in the air. Roscoe touched the floating screen to show it was solid. "It's called, 'hard light,' by the Iron Blood. A fruit of their former collaboration with the Sirens. It's yours. Use it well and keep it subtle, like everything else. Do either of you have questions?"
Commander took a moment to drool over his new toy as he held it in his hand but was interrupted by an, "ahem," from Nashville.
Nashville and Commander looked to each other briefly and then Nashville shook her head to Roscoe. Commander was about to concur, but a plot hole came to mind, "I don't have a question about what you just said but a concern about the mission's execution. Actually, two questions. The file you gave me spoke of where we can repair and resupply but what do we do when we see any other alterations that need to be done after we have started?"
Hara answered him, "You can go to any military port in Azur Lane or Crimson Axis to get exactly what you want. In fact, that may be wise seeing as how the Eagle Union, while having good tech, isn't the best on all technological fronts and sharing technology between nations and factions is still either difficult or taboo. Hence your new phone. You can also contact either of us from any of these ports, more securely than from your phone. And what is your second one?"
"Since I am pretty much, 'Commander Nonexistent,' what do I do when my authority and rank are challenged in a way that cannot be resolved with the Writ of Commandeering?"
"Since all your personal information, civilian and military, has been erased that leaves your service number abandoned. A new number has been assigned to you with appropriately little information for the mission. This one number will function among all factions as a way of verifying that you are who you say you are. It's in the file you already have, and it should be towards the back. Any other supplies you can get on base with that number or buy in the bay area with your operation's account. Anything else?"
Commander shook his head to confirm his now lack of questions.
Roscoe finished the rendezvous, "Splendid. Now run along the two of you. Report to dry dock two at your earliest convenience with a full list of all the alterations that you decide on."
Commander and Nashville stood and saluted at the same time. Nashville was finally able to speak, "Thank y'all so much for this chance. I promise to not let you down."
She had taken the words right out of Commander's mouth, so he simply added on, "Yeah, what she said." And then they left.
As the door closed Hara let out a breath that she didn't know that she had been holding.
Roscoe picked up on this and pointed it out, "Finally getting cold feet Eriko?"
"Not at all Grayson. I let you talk me into this. I made my decision to let it proceed so I must see it through. It's just… I have a feeling that we are sending them into something so much bigger than what we prepared them for."
"I'm sure they will be just fine," said the wizened supreme commander to one of the only people he respected.
"Were we justified in lying to them about how bad things are? Especially to the commander when we said he wasn't our last hope?"
"I do not know. Only time will tell."
Thank you, you wonderful people for making it to the end of this chapter. I hope you liked what you read. I also hoped that I gave a good enough reason to use an OC instead of a kansen from in game. I really like the character of Nashville that I have in mind but on a more personal level I chose her because I enjoy hearing those stories not often shared and she fits into this category by virtue of not being in game. I had also walked in hoping to get to sea this chapter, but my pacing said I couldn't in less than 7500 words so I'm calling it quits for today. Please look forward to the next chapter of Operation Rumor Mill. Take care friends. I hope that if you are having a bad day it gets better and that if you are having a good day it gets even better.
