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"[He was] terror in action, either with his fists or a gun."

-Bat Masterson, American Old West lawman talking about Wyatt Earp, a fellow lawman

Chapter 20: The Trial Run

Queen Elizabeth lifted the black blade of Duke of York's sword from Calico Jack's shoulders. He stood and the codebreaker and the queen shared a moment of mutual respect. But that moment was complete in a few seconds when the newly minted knight remarked, "I hope that Your Majesty will pardon me being a broken record but, what now? Is there any sort of official paperwork or is a knighthood strictly off the books?"

"That's actually something I wanted to confirm with you, Sir Calico Jack," Queen Elizabeth stretched out the "sir," part and she took no small measure of pleasure in seeing the pirate turned knight shudder a bit at being called that. She continued with a smile, "I never did ask you if you have any sort of service record."

"I do. But it's very vague. A bare minimum."

"Okay then. You have several options then. You can make your knighting completely off the books and be a rumor. But I will privily see to it that all ship girl forces of the commonwealth are made aware of your status. This will mean that the knighting won't mean much in non-ship girl bases. I was going to do this on default. But with a service record you can go completely on the books with accolades, and you will be presented and given the title in a state ceremony, and be guaranteed all the rights, privileges, and benefits thereof in all situations in the realm. I have a feeling that I know what you will choose but I still feel the need to ask."

"It's best to stay a rumor. Besides, I'm fairly certain that Nashville and I will be docking almost exclusively at ship girl bases anyway, so it likely won't matter."

"So be it," declared the queen. "But there is more that I would desire from you at this time. I would like your counsel about the falsified order that held the London Garrison back. But first, there is something else that I insist on."

Calico Jack's interest was piqued again. In his mind, not much surpassed the importance of the enemy having cracked and then spoofing the Royal Navy codes, so what was this other thing that Queen Elizabeth insisted on?

She didn't hold him in the dark for very long. She spoke in a teasing tone of voice, "Since knights are supposed to be warriors, I must know. Are you a warrior? Or a damsel in distress in direct combat?"

"Your Majesty refers to hand-to-hand combat, correct?" She nodded and he answered, "I imagine that Belfast has spoken to Your Majesty about having shown me a thing or two with a knife?"

"I do hope that you've picked up more than just a thing or two while you've worked with Belfast," spoke up Prince of Wales.

"It seems that humility won't serve me in this conversation," deadpanned the officer. Mumbles of agreement came from the rest present. So, he continued, "Alright. I consider myself competent with a knife." He paused and then with a confident smile and some pride on his voice he said, "But I consider myself expert with a pistol."

"Is that right?" asked Queen Elizabeth rhetorically. "Then we shall test you in both the blade and the pistol. We have means to do both."

Calico Jack could guess how his knife-work would be tested. It would be a duel with either Prince of Wales or Duke of York. But his question was, "While I can guess how my skill with a blade would be tested, how would my skill with a pistol be tested?"

"Thou hast discounted the maids," notified Duke of York. "In thy tongue, Sheffield would be a 'dead-eye' with a side-arm. She can prove thee."

"Indeed," concurred the queen. "I would have these trials be conducted immediately. Do you object?"

"Not at all," answered the man as he rose to the occasion. This was respected by all present because everyone understood that there was no real chance of him winning against a ship girl in one-on-one combat. This was just to show that he wasn't a big pushover. And on a more fundamental level, this was to conform to an agreed upon tradition within the Order of the Round Table; that is, that all new knights would be tested in combat.

"Good," replied Queen Elizabeth. "Where would be most convenient for both trials?"

He didn't have to think too long, and he said, "On the starboard deck right beside the funnels will be room enough."

"Very well. Gather your arms but come as you are. We will await your appearance and then we will commence the trials."

XXXXXXXX

Commander humored himself with thoughts of being a pirate knight as he was gathering Giovanni from his quarters. Considering that he was short the one-piece, he couldn't consider himself the pirate king. But hey, pirate knight was a lot better than he was even fifteen minutes ago. But in spite of all his flights of fancy, he donned his concealed carry holster and slid his pistol into it. With a pat on his front pocket, he confirmed that his knife was still where he put it in the morning, nevertheless he grabbed his practice knife too.

He left his cabin to find Nashville waiting patiently outside. With a smile and a nod, she led the way towards where the trials would be conducted. Luckily enough, he had chosen the best possible place to have the trials. From where they would be held, and with Nashville's direction in the river, the superstructure would obscure any of the proceedings from the six would-be assassins as they waited patiently for the Magician to make a mistake and leave his place of safety. As they would make their move, they would suppose the union officer to be as harmless as a fly. At least as harmless as one man against six could be. But that would come later. Right now, it was time for battle. A mock battle. Against a sword wielding warship woman. Whelp. "Fortune favors the bold," they said. And by being bold, fortune has yet to abandon the magical-pirate-knight-codebreaker-guy. So, Commander decided that he would go all in for this trial. Maybe the statistics that he calculated roughly in his head would be wrong and he would win. Doubtful. He prided himself on rarely being incorrect on a math problem. He began to berate himself for such defeatist thinking. He was going to win.

Nashville looked over her shoulder to see the evolution of her commander's facial expression as they walked. She could tell that he was starting to think too hard about all of this. So, she decided to try and help him. A pat on the shoulder broke him from his rut and his attention focused squarely on her. She smiled at him. He smiled back without hesitation. He was feeling better already. But she wasn't done yet, following on by saying, "You got this, Commander. After how much me and Belfast have put you through the wringer, I doubt that any trial that they can put forward will be unbeatable. And besides, you've beaten the odds before. Just think of this as a chance for your overly humble self to show off a little. But if you do show off, please don't make it a habit."

He chuckled a bit at that last part and responded genuinely, "Thanks, Nashville. I'm just trying to come up with a strategy that will actually help me win if the trial is what I think it will be; a duel between myself and either Prince of Wales or Duke of York."

Nashville hummed for a second and offered her two cents, "Well since they're both battleships I think it's obvious that you can't overpower them. So, you gotta fight smarter not harder. And do what Belfast told you that one time, make the fight end quickly. Because I bet that the longer it goes on, the easier it would be for whoever you're up against to win."

"Oh, you're probably right. As usual," he wagered aloud.

"Nice to know that we're on the same page." she said back. Then she added on, "But whatever happens I'll be rooting for you."

He swelled with confidence following that final assurance. With a big smile on his face to complement hers he declared, "I feel like I can take on the world right now. Thanks for that. But we should pick up the pace. We don't want to keep them waiting too long."

The duo hurried to the appointed area to find the Royal Court along with the four maids. As the duo approached, Queen Elizabeth looked their way and gave a grin that hinted at a humorous outlook on the whole thing. Hood and Illustrious looked somewhat pained, like they weren't completely in agreement with what was about to happen. The knights and maids did well in looking indifferent. Queen Elizabeth spoke to get this started, "What would you prefer to do first: the trial of the blade or the pistol?"

"Blade, please," he requested, anticipating the possibility of needing his skill with the pistol to make up for embarrassing himself with the blade.

Queen Elizabeth saw this intention, and while she understood why he would do this, she didn't find it giving any points in his favor. Nevertheless, she condoned his decision. She began to explain, "By tradition, all new knights of the Order of the Round Table are tested in combat with a mock duel between them and a more senior peer. You will be no different." He nodded in understanding and then she looked towards Prince of Wales and Duke of York. She asked, "Have you decided which of you will test Calico Jack?"

The two battleships started to speak back and forth for a few seconds. And in those few seconds, Sirius managed to pass the pirate knight back the handkerchief that he had loaned her. She thanked him for his kindness, and he said, "You're welcome," silently as Prince of Wales and Duke of York finished speaking. He hurriedly stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket, and it left a corner of the fabric sticking out.

Prince of Wales took a step forward, and she drew her sabre from her right hip with her left hand. Calico Jack had forgotten that she was left-handed, this would be tough. Not only has he never gone up against anybody with a sword before, but from Nashville's own experimentation with south-paw style boxing, he could tell that this would be hard. He watched though as Prince of Wales passed her sword to her sister and removed the scabbard from where it was fastened on her person. She held the scabbard as if it were a practice sword. Good thing he had grabbed his practice knife. When Duke of York took a few steps back to clear what would be the duel's area, everyone else took their cues to follow suit, except Nashville, who delayed only a second to wish her commander good luck, and then she did as everyone else did.

Calico Jack now took the time to draw his own practice knife. He took a glance around to see the size of the "arena." They had the length of Nashville's quarter deck, which was a distance of about ten yards, but from the railing to where the superstructure rose skyward, they only had about five or six yards. "I don't suppose that there are some rules that I should know about?" he asked Prince of Wales.

Prince of Wales glanced at Calico Jack's practice knife, and then she looked back upwards to his face to explain, "You already understand that this isn't a duel to the death, nor is the objective to injure the opponent. But still, a strike that would kill with a real blade is the condition to win. Belfast will judge who wins. And while I would normally insist on a completely fair fight, I will permit you to do all in your capabilities to win. So, do not feel the need to fight fairly, but naturally, using every advantage you can get. There will be three bouts. Do you have any questions?"

"No. I understand what you've explained," he replied.

"Good. Belfast. If you would please?"

"Of course," said the head maid. She stepped between the two and said, "Salute." Instantly Calico Jack realized that this duel was like a fencing match in presentation. Prince of Wales stood straight up and as she looked towards Calico Jack, she raised her scabbard to eye-level in front of her face, with the "blade" pointed skyward. He mimicked her motion but with his frankly pitifully sized practice knife. This was the salute to each other. They repeated the motion to Belfast, as the referee.

Salute now finished, Belfast called, "En Garde!" And now was another departure from normal fencing. Normally both fencers would assume a similar lower stance with blades pointed towards the other fencer, but Price of Wales opted for a departure from this as a wielder of an officer's sabre instead of an epee from the normal sport. Her stance had her left foot forward of her right foot and she held her "sword" in her left hand with the arm holding it in a way that would present the blade's edge upwards, and the point towards her opponent, with her elbow curving upwards instead of downwards. Naturally, the blade was held up higher than it would be with a traditional fencing stance and this was a way to fend off her taller opponent. She held her right arm close to her torso with her hand in a fist, as a way to keep it out of the way.

Calico Jack scooted his right foot forward slightly and he held his practice knife in a forward grip in his right hand, instead of an icepick grip. Unlike Prince of Wales, he assumed something much closer to a typical fencing stance with his knife arm holding the blade point towards his opponent with his elbow curving downwards. From here he departed further from fencing by holding his own left hand close to belt level, but he didn't rest his hand on his body, and he kept the hand open instead of balling it into a fist.

"Ready?" asked Belfast. She received nods from both fighters. Prince of Wales held significant advantages in this circumstance. She was faster and stronger than anything Calico Jack could ever hope to be. Calico Jack's advantage of a concealed knife was gone. She had a much lengthier weapon thus giving her the range advantage, and she was much, much more experienced in blade combat than Calico Jack was. Back during the last war with the Crimson Axis, she had been able to duel one of the greatest swordswomen the Sakura Empire had to offer, Takao, to a near standstill, only to be broken when both duelists' respective sisters joined the fight. Prince of Wales was confident that this would be over quick. More than anything, this was a test of how gracious of a loser Calico Jack was.

But Prince of Wales didn't have every advantage. Despite the superhuman abilities of ship girls, they only retained reaction times like normal humans. But that wasn't to say they were slow by any means. Professional athletes and ship girls can react in less than 200 milliseconds. Most people blink at about 200 to 250 milliseconds. Given this fact, the mastery of a ship girl swordswoman is in their uncanny capabilities at anticipation. But Calico Jack was good at doing the unexpected. Furthermore, though not to the same level as Prince of Wales, Calico Jack's own reaction times have been improving over the last few months that he had trained alongside Nashville. Still, the question was really, "Who got the drop on who first?" And to even the playing field, Prince of Wales had consented to him fighting dirty. He would keep it within reason, but that was a big advantage to him. And having been allowed to do that, he now held the greatest advantage one can have in a fight. He had a plan. Now, all he had to do was see it through.

"Begin," signaled Belfast.

There was no charge forward and a clash of blades. Instead, the fighters stood there in their ready stances for a few seconds. Prince of Wales had not expected this because she understood that the pirate's only hope at winning was getting inside her guard. She had expected him to charge. But instead, he maintained a poker face that didn't give away his feelings on the fight so far. She advanced the few feet to begin her first strike. It consisted of her bringing her "sword" down from it's relatively high position in a diagonal slash downwards. It wasn't extended far enough to actually hit him, but she had hoped it would provoke him.

He only responded with a slight lean to the side and a short step backwards. With the difference in weapon length, parrying would be riskier than he was willing to venture at the moment, so he dodged. He knew that the fight would have to end soon under normal circumstances, but his hope was to remain more patient than Prince of Wales and get her to commit to an attack and begin the "actual" fight. Then he would spring his trap.

This formula would continue for a few more cycles. Prince of Wales would cross the step or two between them and she would throw a testing slash, but from different angles, sometimes falling diagonal, sometimes rising diagonal, or horizontal. This was quite unlike any "duel" she had been in before. She tried to visibly relax her stance as a way to tempt the pirate into an action that she could punish. But he wasn't falling for it. And though she tried her absolute hardest, she was starting to lose her patience. At least she could try to hide it. But alas, it's hard to beat the poker face of one from Las Vegas.

Calico Jack saw the battleship's resolve start to crack. The time was approaching. He was spot on. He saw Prince of Wales glance to where his knife was being held, as he had been waving it from side to side on occasion, and this was a telltale sign that she was about to do something. She quickly lunged forward as her "sword" whizzed in a horizontal strike going from her left to her right.

Calico Jack began his plan. He first took a page from Nashville's own fighting handbook. Instead of stepping or jumping backwards, he only leaned his torso backwards in a boxing move called, "pulling away," that let him dodge Prince of Wales' strike but let her close the distance and get him inside her guard. He was only slightly inside the reach of her guard, and Prince of Wales could recover if he didn't do anything.

Part of the mastery of a magician is that of misdirection, and he had done it wonderfully. By waving his knife around every now and then, he had made her fixate herself solely on his knife, completely oblivious as to what his other hand was doing.

As she swung her sword, his left hand found the corner of the handkerchief that Sirius had given back to him just before the fight as it poked out from his pocket. Inspired by a movie that he had seen once, he flung the fabric square right into Prince of Wales' face, obscuring her vision momentarily. The surprise of this action and it's disorienting effect slowed Prince of Wales' reaction speed by only a fraction of a second.

But it was enough.

Having flung his left arm forward with the handkerchief, Calico Jack used that hand to clamp down on Prince of Wales' forearm that held her scabbard and hold it away from him as it sailed past him. He was now completely inside of his opponent's stance. Prince of Wales had lost every one of her advantages. He rapidly pressed his practice knife against the jugular vein in her neck before she could recover from her surprise and utilize her strength against him.

Between Prince of Wales beginning her lunge and Calico Jack pressing his practice knife to her neck, just over two seconds of time had elapsed.

"Halt!" called Belfast, ending the bout. Mouths were agape. Nobody had seriously expected Calico Jack to win. Except surprisingly, Belfast, who had a stroke of intuition to expect the unexpected.

Even Nashville, to her internal shame, was beginning to doubt her commander as the bout dragged on. But she was still the first to recover some of her sense, so she called out while starting to clap, "Woohoo! That's my commander!" Light congratulations from the other spectators followed, but they didn't interrupt the bouts with cheering at all.

That broke the spell and Calico Jack released his grip on Prince of Wales and took a step backwards. The battleship bent over and picked up the handkerchief which had fallen to the deck. She held it out to her opponent, and he accepted it back, only this time he took the time to fold it correctly before returning it to his pocket. "That was unexpected," admitted Prince of Wales. In the spirit of good sportsmanship, she extended her hand to shake his, and she offered him a thin smile too.

He accepted the handshake with a smile and remarked, "That is what I was going for. But I'd be surprised if it worked a second time. And to be perfectly honest, I don't think that I could beat you without tricks, you're too beyond me."

Prince of Wales hummed. Normally, she would readily agree with that last statement, but she couldn't properly express how surprised the outcome made her. Think about it! Takao, who definitely spent large portions of each day practicing with her sword could only get into a stalemate with Prince of Wales. And even Prince of Wales was no slouch in her practice either. But here was this wily yankee codebreaker who can win a swordfight with a flourish of a piece of fabric. It was like magic. Prince of Wales finally responded after a second of thought, "Well, don't run out of tricks then. At least not yet, there are still two bouts left."

"Right."

Prince of Wales signaled to Belfast to go through the process of getting the second bout started. Hastily, Calico Jack got a second plan together. This plan was significantly more shoestring than the last, and it counted on Prince of Wales trying a more aggressive approach from the beginning.

Belfast had the duelists salute each other and then her as the referee and then she had them assume their ready positions, and finally she once again ordered, "Begin!"

Again, Calico Jack was right. Prince of Wales did assume a much more aggressive strategy more in line with what she was used to. She jumped forwards looking to give the man a solid jab in the ribs with what would be a stab if she had a normal blade in hand. Instead of holding her off arm close to her torso, she extended it behind her slightly to preserve her balance with the jump.

In a fashion much less theatrical than what had happened with the first bout his plan sprang into action with the same immediacy as Prince of Wales' leap forward. He threw his practice knife in his opponent's direction, landing a solid hit on her ribs, right where her off arm would have been if it hadn't been extended as a balance to her movement. He tried to dodge Prince of Wales' continuing stab, but he wasn't quite fast enough and got a rapidly throbbing jab to his left arm. Belfast again stopped the duel. Only this time, she joined the rest of the observers in astonishment. Him beating Prince of Wales once could be written off as a fluke, but doing it twice? Now that was insanity. Prince of Wales was much less satisfied with the outcome this time, not only had she lost for a second time to a normal human, but the loss felt…cheap. But she had to admit begrudgingly to herself that she did say that he could fight naturally, not necessarily fairly. She again bent over to pick up Calico Jack's property. She handed the practice knife back to him but this time she asked him with a slight accusatory bite to her tone, "What would you have done if you missed, or I kept coming after a non-fatal hit?"

He shrugged and answered, "In a real fight I would have drawn my pistol. But if I had missed just now, I most likely would have lost. Plain and simple."

Prince of Wales felt a little bit better with the admission. She responded sagely, "Sometimes victories come down to nothing but luck. Don't get too full of yourself, Calico Jack." He got the impression that she said that from experience. And to be completely honest, he didn't know enough about Prince of Wales to make a better judgement on that. But the Royal observers knew that she absolutely did have the experience to back up such a phrase.

"Got it," he responded to her wisdom. And it was good advice too because he was now out of ideas.

The duelists parted one last time and Prince of Wales again signaled Belfast to get the final bout started. This was it. The final chance to see what the man from Las Vegas is made of. No more tricks. Because he had run out of them. Belfast called for both duelists to salute, and both did so. But as Calico Jack's blade was used in salute, a story came to his mind.

There have been times when foreigners to the Eagle Union have asked, "What's up with the fixation on guns?" The answer is simple. It's cultural. The Eagle Union cannot boast of many centuries of existence like most European, African, or Asian nations. The folk heroes and historical figures of many old and famous states of the earth built their fame and their place in history or folklore on the sword or some other traditional weapon. Knights have their longswords and polearms, while Samurai have their katana, etcetera. But from the inception of the Eagle Union, any larger-than-life character had a gun. From the revolutionaries following George Washington with their flintlocks, to the frontiersmen doing their part to tame the west, down to the cowboys, outlaws, and lawmen of the Wild West with their revolvers, the people of the Eagle Union have usually carried firearms when they expect trouble. And that nation's stories and heroes reflect this.

But there is a notable exception.

At mid-day, September 19, 1827 on a sandbar in the Mississippi River near the town of Natchez, Mississippi in the Southern Eagle Union, two men, plus each's entourages met. These two men had grievances against one another for a reason that escaped Calico Jack's mind. But whatever the case was, the grievances were great enough that on this occasion, they had gathered for a pistol duel. Both would fire their pistols twice in the duel and neither scored any hits on the other. They ended up shaking hands. According to formal rules of dueling at the time, honor had been satisfied, and both could depart in peace. But among both men's entourages, there were other scores to settle.

One of these men on one side was named, James "Jim" Bowie. And another one of these men but on the other side was named Norris Wright. Jim Bowie and Norris Wright hated each other for outside reasons, mainly business and political in nature, and they had brawled before. But that wasn't the only bad blood there. A call to settle differences by one man present made another draw his pistol and a shot was fired. The shot missed the intended target and wounded Bowie, knocking him to the ground. A brawl broke out, and Bowie rose to his feet drawing out what was described as a butcher knife. Bowie charged with his knife, only to be clubbed to the ground by the shooter's now empty flintlock pistol. Enter Norris Wright, who saw an opportunity to be rid of a man he esteemed to be his enemy. Wright missed his own pistol's shot on the prone Bowie and decided to run the seemingly helpless man through with his cane sword. He succeeded in stabbing Bowie in the chest, but while he was retrieving his sword from what was supposed to be a fresh corpse, Bowie reached up, grabbed Wright's shirt, pulled him downwards, and violently disemboweled him on his large knife. Norris Wright would not leave the sandbar alive, having succumbed swiftly to his mortal wound. Bowie rose again to his feet; some say with the cane sword still in his chest and carried on with the brawl. The ninety second brawl would finish with him still alive despite multiple serious wounds. Jim Bowie and his, "Bowie Knife," would become national news, and the stuff of legend.

The Bowie Knife would become famous in the Eagle Union's frontier, and people would buy up copies of the blade like candy. There was so much demand that when the story of the "Sandbar fight" had crossed the Atlantic all the way to England, entire swaths of craftsmen in the City of Sheffield—of all places—began to mass produce the blade to cater to demand.

Legend has it that Jim Bowie carried that knife from that day on a sandbar in the middle of the Mississippi River all the way until his death on March 6, 1836 during the Battle of the Alamo.

Calico Jack snapped back to reality as Belfast called the command to en garde. He decided that after nearly two hundred years of waiting, it was time for the Eagle Union to produce another famous knife fighter. He resolved that he would give Prince of Wales a duel to remember. He moved deliberately into his ready position. Then for the second time in less than fifteen minutes, determination cast aside any other expression on his face.

The spectators noticed this shift in the pirate knight. Again, the Royal Court was impressed. But they weren't nearly as shocked to see the man like this as they were a little earlier.

The same couldn't be said for three of the four the maids. Belfast, like Hood, had seen this same determination on Calico Jack just before he and Nashville charged down the Thames to the battle. She found herself pleased that he hadn't decided to simply give up against Prince of Wales. Gloucester, who had been surprised at his initial gentlemanly conduct with women, found that such an expression on a determined officer made her feel…calm. Like everything was going to be alright. Like he would do everything in his power to see his vision become a reality. Sheffield didn't read into any of her personal feelings on Calico Jack's obvious willpower, but she did find herself associating him with vermin much less. Sirius was the most affected of the three maids who were seeing this for the first time. She now understood completely why Nashville was so devoted to her commander. If Sirius were ever to be assigned to serve Calico Jack, she knew that she could take pride and comfort in calling him, "honorable master," in the same way that Nashville is clearly prideful and comfortable in calling him, "Commander." Now she had to get closer to Calico Jack, not just to learn more about what happened to Dido, but out of her own curiosities about him.

Prince of Wales cracked a smile. This was what she had truly wanted to see when she finally had consented to letting him join the order of knights that she held dear. She had to admit that the man had defied her expectations in virtually all areas, and she will have to likewise admit that she was wrong about the spirit of this trial. She had thought this was merely a way to see if Calico Jack was a sore loser. But now she made a new decision, she would fight in a manner that would hold true not only to her honor and oath as a knight, but the honor and oath of her opponent, a fellow knight. Calico Jack was a pirate no more in her eyes.

Belfast confirmed that both knights were ready and then she gave the order, "Begin!"

Prince of Wales wasted no time. She closed the distance to deliver a downward chop aimed for the crown of Calico Jack's head. In an instant, the pirate knight could tell that dodging left or right would let her get a solid hit on one of his shoulders and dodging backwards wouldn't be fast enough. For the first time in any of the three bouts, he raised his practice knife to deliver a parry.

Here's why it was a risky move. In a fight of a full-length sword against a knife, one will find the knife to be incredibly unforgiving. And parrying even more unforgiving. True, he can move a knife faster than a sword, but that makes it all the harder to do the precise movement needed for a small blade to make contact and then force aside a larger one.

But still, he didn't have an option, so he shot his knife wielding hand upwards to make contact with Prince of Wales' scabbard. He met the satisfying resistance of making contact with the opponent's weapon. But he wasn't foolish enough to try and simply hold Prince of Wales' weapon in one place. Her strength would overwhelm him quickly. So, he angled his knife to give an effect of water running off an angled rooftop. With that measure and a push, he deflected Prince of Wales' strike to the side.

A big portion of the strategy of close combat fighting is getting a proper angle on one's opponent. In layman's terms, "flanking the opponent." And that would play a part in this clash of knights. The ideal position from which to strike an opponent is from their back, or from a place where they cannot retaliate easily. The big advantage that Calico Jack now had was that Prince of Wales' scabbard had been deflected in a direction that crossed too far across her body to bring it into play quickly. Her sword arm was too far away to beat the speed of a touching distance opponent with a quicker weapon. The fact of the matter was that—superhuman speed or not—Calico Jack was too close. This was compounded when he made a step to get on Prince of Wales' outside, the side that her sword arm was opposite from. She was flanked. The fight would have been his, but she made a decision.

He thrusted his practice knife for a slash towards her neck in a motion that was much more akin to a punch than an amateurish wide swing. To Prince of Wales, such a motion served to show that he was indeed competent with a knife. But she had to react quickly, Calico Jack was a tad faster than she had expected. Taking advantage of how she was shorter than her opponent, she was able to duck under his strike, and it whizzed by her head. And instead of crossing back across her body with a wide slash, she continued in a spin in the same direction that Calico Jack had deflected her blade in. She would utilize a sweeping strike meant to take his legs out from under him.

He noticed Prince of Wales' plan just after he had committed to his slash to her neck. Time to abandon finesse. He was pulling his arm back when Prince of Wales' sword was extending in the sweep. He had to jump to get out of the way. Jumping upwards to stay close to his opponent would make it too easy for her to follow up on. He took the only other option available. He jumped backwards to get out of Prince of Wales' sweep, but that gave her the advantage of being able to use her longer weapon. He retreated backwards another few steps so that he could buy himself a few more seconds to come up with a plan. In the excitement of the moment, he couldn't find any plan coming to mind. But he noticed that he was getting a little too close to a bulkhead that led up to one of Nashville's secondary batteries. If he stayed there for too long, he would find himself in a tight spot like a cornered animal.

Prince of Wales was standing after having completed her spin. And now he was completely out of his attack range. Prince of Wales might not have knocked him over, but she certainly had driven off the immediate threat. He needed to find a way to close the distance without her being able to retaliate. He needed another factor in the equation. His peripheral vision caught something hanging on the bulkhead beside him. It was a large red and white lifebuoy, meant to be thrown to anybody unlucky enough to be overboard. That'll work. It wasn't fastened down, so before Prince of Wales could advance and finish the fight, he grabbed it, and chucked it in her direction. The moment she had to use dodging or otherwise dealing with the flying lifebuoy allowed the codebreaker to finally advance forward.

He advanced a few steps away from the bulkhead before Prince of Wales could corner him. Time for him to go on the offensive. The last time he had tried to go directly for a killing strike, it didn't go so well, and it costed him his advantage so now he opened up his targets from Prince of Wales' neck or vitals to targeting her wrists or forearms. He hoped against hope to get a strike that would make her drop her scabbard. Or at least get her to recoil so that he could go for that killing blow.

Prince of Wales now had a suspicion of something confirmed. Calico Jack likes to throw things, so she had to make sure that there was nothing else that he could use to throw. There was only the lifebuoy that he had thrown, she would have kicked it away, but he was upon her quickly. He brought his practice knife downwards in a vertical slash that looked to be a way to get her to back up. Maybe he wanted to corner her? She was rather close to the railings after all.

She brought up her scabbard to block the strike easily. But it was a ruse, his knife came down in his right hand while at the same time his left hand popped from where he held it in front of him to go for her left wrist—the wrist of the hand that held her weapon. Prince of Wales was alarmed. He was going for a disarm!

Not on her watch! Her right hand shot forward from her torso to grab his left wrist. She caught it easily and was graced with a surprised look on his face. He had underestimated her speed.

Before he could try to use his practice knife to unfree his hand or try anything else, she stepped backwards, stretching his left arm outwards as it was still in her grip and forcing his body to pivot at an odd angle as it bent him forward slightly. Now she had him flanked and he was well out of attacking range of his shorter weapon. She brought her scabbard backwards to set up the swing at him to end the fight.

Calico Jack saw this move to bring her sword back to set up her final strike. So, he decided that now was the time to test a ship girl's strength. Prince of Wales began her swing that looked to be targeting his own neck. He did something that would surprise her again, instead of trying to pull his arm backwards like a normal person, he yanked his arm and hers along with it upwards. She wasn't anticipating resisting a movement in this direction. Instead, she had prepared to give her fellow knight a mighty thwack on the head, but in her hasty swing and lackadaisical—for a ship girl—hold on her opponent, she struck her own forearm with her weapon as it was brought upwards as an impromptu shield.

If it was her own sword that she was wielding, instead of a practice stand-in, she would have sliced her own arm off, and the fight would have been Calico Jack's. But Belfast didn't call halt for some reason. Maybe because such a wound wouldn't kill her instantly? She still had a chance to salvage this. But whatever the case may be, she had released her grip on Calico Jack. He raised his own weapon to prepare his next strike.

Then in much the same way that he had used a page from Nashville's playbook by using a boxing evasion earlier, Prince of Wales took inspiration from Duke of York's own style of longsword combat. Prince of Wales leapt forward towards Calico Jack with a shoulder check. She pegged him right in his sternum and she knocked him to the deck with an audible, "Oof."

He had propped himself up on one of his hands to get up and carry on the fight when he looked up to see Prince of Wales standing over him. Her scabbard was pointed directly at his face, and he had no obvious counter.

He reached up to take a hold on Prince of Wales' scabbard. "Sharp" or not, he was going to pull a Jim Bowie move and yank her downwards.

He would have won doing that, but he was interrupted when Belfast called, "Halt!"

He released the end of Prince of Wales' scabbard and he and Prince of Wales shared a moment of mutual respect. While Prince of Wales had been holding back considerably for the fight she still found herself impressed with her fellow knight's ingenuity and skill when under pressure.

With a smile, she reached her hand downwards to pick up one last thing of Calico Jack's that had fallen on the ground—himself. "It was a good fight. All things considered, you did well," she complimented. She wasn't lying. The fight fell under the category of short and sweet in her book. Duels with other ship girls could last for minutes while this one had only taken up about fifteen seconds. But somehow, none of them kept her on her toes like Calico Jack did. He tried stuff that certainly wouldn't be considered normal, or even fair, and he caught her off guard for that. Prince of Wales would totally be cool with dueling Calico Jack again. Though unspoken, that was the greatest complement that she could give.

He accepted her hand and he was pulled back to his feet. Once he was standing completely, he responded, "Thanks. You're pretty good at this."

But then Prince of Wales looked perplexed, and she asked, "At the end, you grabbed the end of my weapon even though the fight was over. What were you planning?"

"I was going to keep fighting."

"How? I would have stabbed you."

Calico Jack smirked and he began to share the story of Jim Bowie and his knife. The audience stayed silent for the brief tale. But once he finished Prince of Wales remarked, "Well, that explains a lot. I hadn't expected you to be a 'to the bitter end' type of person."

"I wouldn't go that far," he rebutted. "I prefer to think of the saying that goes, 'Where there's a will, there's a way.'"

"Hmph. You're quite the optimist."

"Again, I wouldn't go that far. In all my experience, every problem has a solution. It's a realistic outlook I believe. So far, that mentality has proven equally effective in studies, in code breaking, and in combat. And based on my knowledge of mathematical statistics, if something has had a history of being true, the chances are that it will remain true in the future. In some cases, this fact is really convenient, but unfortunately, that means that changing things can be potentially difficult, but not impossible. Improbable, but not impossible."

This was quite the declaration to Prince of Wales. She was of the firm belief that there are times when things are in fact not possible. At some point she would have agreed with the codebreaker, but then she had hoped to succeed as a fleet in being to keep the Sakura Navy out of the Indian Ocean. But then on the tenth of December 1941, she became one of the first two capital ships ever sank by aircraft. She had been so optimistic. Only two days before she recalled officers huddling in her wardroom around a radio announcing the Eagle Union's entrance into the war. But that didn't save her, or even complete her objective. And in some other reality, speaking with a different person, she would have fervently disagreed with whatever optimistic imbecile would say that impossible didn't exist, only improbable. But there was something about this imbecile. Would he be able to pull of the "improbable?" Doubt filled the fast battleship. She didn't know one way or another. What she did know that their current enemy was great; far greater than any foe that had ever come up against her homeland before. But she also knew that based on what she had seen so far, Calico Jack was great too.

Prince of Wales made a decision. She would have to see for herself. And she would do so gladly with her fellow knight. They were fellows now—equals. And for the first time in a very long time, Prince of Wales decided to trust in an ally not from her own nation. Something clicked in her mind. For so long, she had thought that the Azur Lane Alliance had only been a fantasy that was spoken about like a standard to strive for, yet unreachable. Her decision to trust Calico Jack of the Eagle Union just made the Azur Lane Alliance a reality to her. Hope filled her heart. Is this what it was like to have allies? She could get used to the feeling. It would be a Royal Alliance. She finally responded to Calico Jack's last statement by wishing, "Improbable you say? I look forward to being there when you pull it off." She smiled and concluded, "Together. Like allies. Like fellow knights."

The awesome Hollywood thing to say in response would be something along the lines of, "Yippee-ki-yay." But he was overcome with the fact that the HMS Prince of Wales was saying this to him. So, he couldn't hope to match her statement with anything epic and heroic. The geek from Las Vegas strikes again. He responded plainly, "Let's make it happen." Prince of Wales nodded in conclusion and looked to the sidelines toward the spectators. Naturally, Calico Jack's gaze followed hers.

Nashville was giving him a big thumbs up of approval. He couldn't help but smile at that. He can always count on her to be there for him. But his attention was drawn away when he heard Queen Elizabeth clear her throat. "That was quite the performance," stated the teenage-looking monarch. "Calico Jack, you seem to have quite the habit of defying expectations."

He shrugged in response and said, "I guess people really like underdog stories."

"So it would seem," agreed Queen Elizabeth. She now looked towards Prince of Wales and said, "Thank you, Prince of Wales for your contribution to this."

Prince of Wales bowed slightly and replied, "Of course, Your Majesty." Prince of Wales spared her fellow knight a final glance before she walked to rejoin the spectators. As she was walking, Queen Elizabeth motioned for Sheffield to advance, which she did.

Sheffield got close to Calico Jack. For a brief moment they exchanged gazes and he was finally able to notice Sheffield's eye color. She had yellow eyes. So, help him God, yellow eyes. Hopefully, she wouldn't bully him. She held out her hand and requested, "Your side-arm please."

He removed Giovanni from his concealed carry holster on his back right. He pressed the button on the side of the grip to remove the magazine and he pulled back on the slide to eject the cartridge that he held in the chamber. It clattered on the deck and he depressed the decocker and the hammer clicked forwards. He placed the pistol into Sheffield's hand.

Sheffield was surprised to see a Sardegnian pistol in the hands of an Eagle Union officer. She was under the impression that there was an ongoing cult of the Colt 1911. But more than anything, she was pleased that Calico Jack didn't do anything gaudy to his pistol, like have it engraved. She would have been quick to point out that engravings offer no tactical advantage whatsoever. She believed the spirit of a pistol isn't in showing off but showing up. She dryfired from the decocked hammer position to test the longer double action trigger pull. Then she pulled the hammer back to dryfire the pistol again so that she could test the shorter single action trigger pull. She then pulled the slide backwards to test the stiffness of the recoil spring. With the hammer back from having pulled the slide rearwards she depressed the decocker again to confirm that it was indeed a decocker and not a normal safety. She gave her appraisal, "It's a stock model Berretta 92G. Why?"

"I have competition experience with a similar model. My competition pistol had aftermarket springs, sights, and a trigger. With a few other differences. So, I'm trying to keep my eyes open for a few of those parts. I've never had a pistol of this model malfunction for any reason other than bad ammunition or magazines, and it's size fits well into my hand." He also liked the Beretta 92's presence in movies; John Woo's work being a personal favorite of his. He left out this part of the explanation though.

"Valid reasons," admitted Sheffield. She handed the pistol back to it's owner. Then she ordered, "Show me your firing position."

He began with his grip on the weapon. His right hand firmly gripped the handle on the pistol, all the while making sure that it was in an angle that would allow the recoil to go backwards in line with his wrist. His left hand found the proper support position on the left side of the grip letting it curl around his right fingers with his left thumb traveling forward along the frame of the weapon. He held the pistol out in front of him with a slight bend in his arms. He had to square his shoulders slightly as he held the pistol out in front of him because while he was right-handed, he was left eye dominant. He leaned forward slightly with his butt sticking outwards a bit and he had his knees bent with he left foot forward of his right one at a distance slightly wider than his shoulder width. Like a statue, no visible movement could be noticed from the man. It was comfortable to him.

Sheffield was disappointed. She was looking forward to picking apart his stance and showing that the self-proclaimed, "expert," wasn't that expect after all. Her very particular gaze traveled to and fro over the man's form. She had gained quite the eye at spotting details over the years of her experience as a maid. And right now, that was failing her. Not long after she sighed and said, "It will do."

The Royals present did a slight double take. Sheffield doesn't just simply say, "good enough." But they remained silent as Sheffield carried on. She ordered, "Pull the trigger."

Handgun marksmanship stems from a few factors. One of these is the trigger pull. Pulling the trigger with the wrong part of the finger can make the shots tend to hit left or right depending on the error. Calico Jack pulled straight backwards with constant pressure on the trigger with the middle of the last segment on his index finger. The statue moved, and the hammer clicked, but the pistol hadn't moved it's position.

Sheffield was again disappointed. Maybe he was a professional? "Good enough," she said aloud. The Royals had another double take. No matter, Sheffiled still had a few other things to test. She asked Calico Jack, "Do you have a second magazine with you?"

"Yes."

"Show a reload," she ordered. First, Calico Jack put the first magazine into the pistol before he began the drill. Having accomplished this, he returned to his original firing position. Then he began. He began to bring his arms with the pistol in his hands backwards. His left hand dropped from it's position to go for the place he concealed his magazines in his left waistband. As his left hand lifted the hem of his shirt, his right thumb pressed the magazine release and it clattered onto the deck. His left hand found the magazine and shot directly upwards to bring the fresh ammunition into the firearm. With practiced precision, the magazine slipped into the grip and he pressed down the slide release to simulate chambering a round. His left hand wrapped around the grip again as it finished the loading motion, and he snapped the pistol to it's firing position again.

He did this in less than a second.

Sheffield was now surprised. She hadn't expected such skill from the pirate knight. She caught herself being shocked to silence for a few seconds and she finally admitted aloud, "Impressive." Calico Jack smirked. He might not show off often, but when he did, he sure felt ten feet tall.

Sheffield was starting to truly wonder if this guy was as good as he said he was. She could only think of one last test that didn't use a live fire range. "Holster your weapon," she ordered. "So, you fancy yourself a gunslinger, Mr. Calico Jack?"

"I've humored the thought on occasion," he remarked as he returned Giovanni to his place. Muffled giggles reached his ears from the sidelines.

"Very well. On my signal, draw, assume your firing position, and pull the trigger." He nodded in understanding. Sheffield gave him a few seconds to gather himself and she ordered, "Draw."

Cinema would have the casual partaker of the western genre believe that fast draw duels happened every day in the Eagle Union frontier. This isn't the case. It happened, but very, very rarely. Nevertheless, since the catching on of the fascination of the Wild West in Eagle Union pop-culture, people have been undertaking the art of finessing the speed and technique of drawing and firing a pistol.

Calico Jack's main hurdle in drawing his pistol is referred to as, "clearing leather." That is to say, draw the pistol out it it's holster completely. Often in someone's haste, they will begin the motion of raising the pistol to fire before it is completely out of the holster and catch the barrel on it's side. More often than not, it makes them drop the weapon. And it makes them look like an idiot. Calico Jack was no idiot. His right hand wrapped around the exposed grip as it sat on his back right. He drew it upwards to the perfect length of the pistol's barrel with a familiarity that gave credence to the phrase, "an extension of his arm." His right wrist twisted to point the weapon towards what would be his target, and that would make his target acquisition faster. He began to raise it upwards and thrust it forward. His left hand met and wrapped around the grip about halfway up. His firing position was reached, and he pulled the trigger in a single crisp motion.

Between Sheffield saying, "Draw," and the click of Giovanni's hammer falling, seven tenths of a second had passed. He was disappointed in himself though. If Sheffield had skipped the part when she had ordered his firing position, he could fire in less than four-tenths of a second with a faster draw style.

Sheffield noticed his expression, and she identified it as the face of one dissatisfied with their performance. She was intimidated. For the first time in years, she was intimidated. This guy somehow did a draw that could get the drop on anyone—ship girls included—so long as they weren't prepared to react to him, and he was dissatisfied?! But because Sheffield was fixated on the man in question, she didn't notice the expressions of those watching. They were equally intimidated and impressed. But this hit Prince of Wales hardest. If he had his pistol, and if her sword wasn't drawn or she wasn't in touching distance of him or her rigging wasn't active, he would win against her every time. This unsettled the battleship. Sheffield brought everyone's attention back to the trial at hand when she asked, "You can do faster?"

He looked dead into her one exposed eye and then he said firmly and confidently, "Easily."

Sheffield felt somewhat slighted by the declaration and how easily he was able to surprise her. "Duel me," she demanded.

Calcio Jack raised an eyebrow and countered, "But firearm safety."

"Duel me," she demanded again.

After a few seconds on intense staring, he relented by saying, "If you insist."

Sheffield pointed to the side towards the river, and she said, "Look that way for a moment."

He shrugged and humored the maid. He looked for a few seconds and confirmed that there was still water in the River Thames, and he looked back to see that Sheffield had produced her own pistol seemingly out of nowhere. He didn't see it, but all the Royals had looked away too, but not Nashville. She saw exactly where Sheffield had produced her pistol from, and now Nashville could confirm that Sheffield committed to being a commando. Nashville passed a few seconds in a shade of red like a tomato. Meanwhile, Calico Jack did a brief double take at how fast she was able to make a pistol appear. She offered him the handgun and said, "Unload it."

He inspected the pistol and said, "A Hi-Power. Good choice." Sheffield didn't respond to his comment. He dropped the magazine and pulled the slide back to check the chamber. It seemed that Sheffield preferred to go around without a bullet in the chamber. He let go of the slide and eased the hammer down on the single-action only pistol before passing it back to it's owner. He then passed Giovanni to give her the same courtesy. She dropped the magazine, inspected the chamber, and pressed the decocker before passing it back to him. He put Giovanni back in his holster.

Weapons in hand, Sheffield and Calico Jack faced each other and they both started to take slow steps backwards from each other. They never broke eye contact as both took five steps backward, ending with about six or seven yards between them. The spectators shifted their gazes from one duelist to the other, waiting for them to make the move as they just stood there, staring at each other.

Viennese philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein once said, "The limits of my language mean the limits of my world." And this was a time when the English language failed to properly describe what was happening between Sheffield and Calico Jack. In Sakura, there is a word, "ikioi," which refers to a battle of the spirits before the battle of the flesh. It would typically happen between dueling samurai waiting for the perfect moment do deliver a single life ending attack.

Ikioi was blazing at full power as Sheffield held her pistol loosely in her right hand letting it point down to the deck. Calico Jack's thumb was hooked around the back of Giovanni's grip as the pistol sat in it's holster, coiled to strike like a rattlesnake. The war of the souls proceeded between the two as they stared each other down without making a single movement. The spectators felt the ikioi, and they were smothered by it to the point that it almost became difficult to breathe. It was as if the flow of the river was silenced, and Nashville's hull was held steady in the water instead of gently swaying. London stopped moving for those taking part in this event.

Sheffield had no intention of holding back. She would give all her speed as a ship girl and skill as a member of the Royal Maid Corps to beat Calico Jack in what was her final test. She would humble this haughty yankee gunslinger wanabe. She would simply raise her pistol from her side, cock the hammer, and pull the trigger. Nice and easy, keeping it simple, just the way she liked it. It was impossible for her to lose.

Calico Jack had resolved to give his all into this duel as well. He recalled the months that he had spent practicing a skill that all his past associates said was useless. They weren't here to see this, but he would prove them wrong. And he would equally prove Sheffield wrong and shoot down her obvious sense of superiority in this matter.

He went through the motions in his head. He would clasp Giovanni firmly in his right hand, clear the leather just the right amount, and then instead of bringing the pistol all the way up to his normal firing position, he would rotate the weapon on an axis by his hip that would bring the muzzle right in line with his target—Sheffield, and he would pull the trigger. It would be just like an old west gunslinger fast draw. Plan finished; he knew that he couldn't lose.

They continued in this silent battle for a few more seconds, when suddenly as if receiving the same unseen signal, both began to execute their plans. Sheffield began to raise her Hi-Power at the same time as Giovanni was clearing leather.

It was over in the blink of an eye.

It was close, but there was no mistaking it. Instead of one click being heard for two dry fire shots at the same time, there were two distinctive clicks. One had been faster than the other.

The spectators couldn't quite grasp who had been first because of the distance between the two duelists dividing their vision.

But Sheffield knew who had won.

And Calico Jack knew it too.

Sheffield lowered her pistol to admit her defeat. Her mouth was slightly agape, and she asked, "How the hell did you do that?"

He smiled in response and felt to quote a lawman of the Old West named, Bat Masterson. "Nerve always was the quality that marked the great gunfighters."

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Calico Jack is a great gunfighter.

Hi there. It's been a while. Well, I still have one last final exam a little later this week, but I have some time now to finish this chapter up and get it uploaded, so here you go. I'll be able to get into a much more normal upload schedule real soon, so I want to thank you for your patience and ask that you bear with me just a bit longer. But anyway, what did you think of the chapter? I did intend to you know, progress the plot when I started typing, because I figured that the trial would only take up maybe two or three thousand words at most before we get onto the juicy stuff, but well, you see how that turned out. So, because this chapter was the first one to feature any sort of close quarters combat, I would really appreciate any feedback that you have for my experiments about how to handle cqc. Did you like the slower, more detail oriented pace? Because it felt like it was coming out how I write naval battles. Or do you want something a bit faster? But whatever the case may be, please tell me what worked and what didn't. Finally, I have to admit that westerns are a guilty pleasure genre of mine. On that note, what do you think about the pistol duel in particular? Also, I almost always type while I listen to music, and while I don't intend to give music recommendations often, I found a small group recently called, "Galactikraken." Their lead singer is Johnathan Young, a popular YouTuber. And they have an album called, "Starship Velociraptor." It's about space pirates. It's super cheesy and I love it. Check it out. The song I listened to most while I was writing is called, "Settle It With a Swordfight." Fair warning though, it has explicit language. So, wear headphones. Or don't. I'm just some guy on the internet, not a police officer. Anyway, there was a very positive response to last chapter. Thank you all so much for reading. There are a ton of comments that I want to respond to, so please forgive me if I seem a bit curt in my responses. I mean no offense.

It's good to see you, SomeRand0m. You're right, it is pretty dumb on the cultist's part. Part of the point of the Heralds of the Deep is a cautionary tale of blind faith in something. I'm so happy that you like the relationship between Las Vegas and Nashville. It was a Suez Canal reference. No problem about mentioning Swiftsure. Will something bad happen to Las Vegas? Maybe. A story without conflict or struggle is pretty boring to me. I'm glad that I was able to clear up any confusion about how Nashville's new bow looks in her hair. I'll take your Prinz Eugen recommendation into consideration. Dragon Ball is what I was going for, but that doesn't mean that Nashville passes a few minutes in a power-up yell. She just yells her activation line and goes into action. Just like any other ship girl from in game. Thanks for your understanding about having to slow down for the end of the semester. I hope that your final few weeks went well for you.

Hey there, SafetyDoggo. I'm glad to have your approval. Nukes and bioweapons are pretty extreme. I was just going for good old-fashioned, "us versus them," when it comes to fighting the Sirens. I won't say no to giving carriers any jets, but as of right now, I have no plans to do so. I'm still considering introducing any bi/lesbian characters. But one thing is for sure, should Littorio show up, she's going to be incredibly horny. Gotta love those fanfiction struggles, am I right? Good luck with your own fic by the way.

Thanks for writing a review, KINGTIGERACE. Hopefully, I can keep writing something so compelling to read.

Hi, Touhoufanatic. I'm happy that I'm able to surprise with something like a knighthood. You're probably right, Las Vegas would be Galahad. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with Las Vegas training more with a blade. Maybe someone will show him something, or I might just have him practice and even form a bit of his own style. We'll see.

Thanks for writing a review, Ghost14lebi. I'm glad that you like the fic so far. I'm also happy that you find that the relationship is progressing naturally. At the moment, I'll admit to struggling a bit in balancing the advancing plot and the advancing relationship between Las Vegas and Nashville. I'm sure I'll figure out the sweet spot balance at some point. Some of the Iron Blood ships are quite crazy. But there is a fortunate thing going for it right now, since a lot of the Iron Blood Kriegsmarine is out to sea in the Counter Raider Flotillas that I mentioned in the chapter that they arrived in England, I have the luxury of being able to cherry pick exactly who they meet among the Iron Blood with an in universe explanation. All the PR ships are made. I even left a way to explain new ones if Yostar introduces more while I write this fanfic, with Cheshire saying that she only knows less than twenty. So, if more get introduced, Cheshire simply hasn't met or heard of them yet.

It's nice to meet you, Northreach. Your recommendation of the Qallupilluit has been noted. Thanks for the recommendation. I also want to thank you so very much for your complement of this fanfic. I hope that you stick around. I still have more ideas and stuff in the works. Thanks for the well wishes for the end of the semester. I hope that all is well on your end too.

What's up, Zander22122? I'm glad that you enjoyed Las Vegas's knighting. Dang. "What is your quest?" would have been so good. I probably would have had him say something ridiculous. "I wanna become the next hokage," comes to mind.

Hi, Guest 2856. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. And the one before that too. Thanks so much for saying that about how the Royals acknowledged Las Vegas. I hope to be able to keep that sort of satisfaction as time goes on. Thanks for your understanding about timing. And also, thanks for the comparison to SabatonBabylon's work. His is definitely one of the best that I've ever seen, so you saying that is a big complement. I'll keep my eyes open for spam/trolls. Thanks for the heads up.

Thanks for the review, Guest. I hope it won't stay hidden forever. But I also hope that I can keep up a level of quality worthy of being considered a gem.

It's good to see you again, playerultima. You're right. Friends in high places is always a good thing. I wonder what I'll do with this. Not waste it, that's for sure. I tried to find a way to fix the point that you brought up about the noticeable prestige of knighthood at the beginning of this chapter. Thanks for bringing that up. I'm actually a commando main in Borderlands. I like the turret ability a lot. Thanks for the good luck with my finals.

Hey there, HeronLsL. I'm glad that you enjoyed that scene at the beginning with the chilling and the conversation with Belfast. I'm slowly trying to portray the growing trust between the two. I hope that Las Vegas's gunslinger skills didn't disappoint. Queen Elizabeth is a fun character to write. I was kind of scared of her at first, but she's grown on me since I first introduced her. I like the will power and determination too. Since he can't have superpowers, and continuous plot armor kind of annoys me, I have to give him something at says, "This guy is the protagonist." "Sir Calcio Jack," sounds kind of funny to me for some reason, but I'm glad you like the sound of it. The Heralds are supposed to make you uncomfortable. And I look forward to finally having them make their move in the very near future. They've been on the sidelines for too long in this story. I hope this chapter was up to snuff.

Thanks for the review, Antonio Manco. It makes me so happy to hear that you like all that stuff about the story. But most of all, thanks for saying that my writing has gotten better as the chapters have gone on. It's honestly hard for me to read the first chapter anymore. I hope to keep it up. And I hope that you stick around.

It's nice to meet you, Seething Abyss. Thanks for the comparison to Chronicles of the Siren War. You're right, the Royals are going to take Commander more seriously now, and I look forward to seeing what I can do with that. It does suck that Sirius had to find out like that, but it had to happen at some point. And knowing me, it would have annoyed me if I never did anything about her presence in the story without talking about Dido's death. Something similar with the Kongou sisters is likely. You might just be onto something with those long-term ramifications. Let's just say that it won't always be popular to do the right thing. I'm looking forward to getting into the minor factions too.

With the posting of this chapter, this fanfic has crossed the boundary into 200k words. That's insane to me. And I'm so grateful to have had you all this way. But we still have quite a way to go yet. I'm excited for what the future holds, and I hope that you are too. Wow, it's late. So, I'm going to get some sleep. Take care, friends. If you are having a bad day I hope it gets better, and if you are having a good day I hope it gets even better.