Disclaimer: I do not own Kantai Collection or Halo. I also would like to state that while some of the names used represent real people, NONE of what I write about them here in regards to personality or viewpoints is AT ALL based on personal knowledge, only what can be found publically through things like wikipedia. So unless I managed somehow to match them by complete accident, do NOT take what's written about them to be in any way, shape, or form as representative of them. Please don't sue me for misrepresentation! Also, sorry for the lateness everyone! Given how hard this chapter was to write, I'm splitting it in half and adding the rest to the next chapter, which already has a bunch written about it. SO! Hopefully this time you'll have the next one come out in only a week or so! Wish me luck!

"Are you serious?" asked one of the Japanese chiefs of staff, his face pale as he tried to disguise the fear in his heart.

"About what? Slipspace, or a potential nuclear weapon? Given that they seem bent on destruction, I don't think it too far off to imagine that your enemies would use them if able, no?" Levi said in reply. "If you're referring to my mention of slipspace, I'll admit that it's unheard of for any human craft to travel through it while in an atmosphere, but that does not rule out the possibility of others being able to. The Covenant themselves have a mastery of it that, I'll admit, is enviable to many within the UNSC…."

"If that were the case, why didn't they use it and simply nuke Manila off the map?" Richelieu said, eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't that have made more sense for them to do?"

The cruiser shrugged. "I could not say. Given the sheer amount of landing forces they brought to bear, perhaps it was only meant as a last resort that they never got the chance to use? Or maybe it wasn't a nuke, but instead something else. The second burst could just as easily have been the source of the radiation LEAVING the combat zone rather than entering it… Perhaps an advance scout to confirm the area's vulnerability before their assault that carried a fissile material?"

Richelieu cocked an eyebrow at that. "You mean like a reactor?"

"If it wasn't shielded properly, yes," Leviathan said.

Admiral Jones hummed as he mulled that one over. "Assuming that is true, then wouldn't someone have noticed it before hand that such a ship was operating in the area?"

"Do you habitually scan your oceans for sources of neutrinos or other forms of radiation? Such things are commonplace in void warfare, but I imagine that that might not be the case for a blue-water navy, am I correct?"

The First Sea Lord was forced to concede that point, making a note to himself to speak with R&D and British Intelligence to look into setting up some kind of sensor array to double-check the Abyssal's words. Liu Yi was doing the same on his end in regards to his own country before speaking up next.

"Could you tell us about this, Ms Levi?" he said, clicking at a keyboard and bringing up a grainy image of the spaceship-girl in question on a familiar beach. "What were you doing on Manicani? Our reports show that it was hit hard by Abyssal forces, and that the majority left after succeeding, yet some stayed behind only to be slaughtered by, presumably, yourself or somebody else? Could you enlighten us on that?"

Leviathan hummed, but nodded. "That was where I first found myself on your world, waking up under a pile of debris while several Abyssals were around. They admitted to attempting to kill off every human in the area, so I struck them down."

"When you say they 'admitted' to it, you mean to say that they initiated communications first? They didn't simply attack you?"

"No, they didn't," Levi said, shaking her head with a grimace. "They seemed to be under the impression that I was similar to them. They even tried to call me 'sister'..."

"And they said straight out that their goal was to wipe out the human forces on the island?"

"Their exact words I believe were 'taking their revenge', but other than that, yes, they admitted to it. Perth seemed rather adamant that I join them for some reason…"

"Excuse me, did you say PERTH?" Halloway interrupted. "They gave you their names?"

"Just the one did. I assume that this is important?"

The American admiral clammed up at that, but his silence was only more damning. "Do you have any images of them? The ones who you confronted?"

Nodding, Levi brought up her forearm once again, tapping away at it to bring up a holographic image of the Abyssal in question, taken from her helmet cameras and sensors as the masked woman had looked up at her.

"The Light Cruiser Princess…" Halloway said, while Goto swallowed and looked extremely uncomfortable. "And the others?"

As Leviathan cycled through several other pictures from her records, the assembled naval officers leaned forward, soaking in each one like sponges. The fact that there were two Abyssal Princesses at the site gave many of them food for thought, while Goto was clenching his hands tightly on the edge of his desk. Chief of Staff Katsutoshi spoke up next, drawing the warship's attention to him. "Thank you Leviathan-san. As a further means of ensuring a diplomatic solution to this meeting, and to further our understanding of the situation, would it be too much to ask for you to provide us with these and any other recordings you have of the events leading up to your presence here?"

"Of course. I'd be happy to do so, along with the other information that I promised beforehand."

"And as a reminder for all those present, that would include what again?"

Leviathan frowned a bit, but still answered politely. "Information regarding the Covenant, their known tactics and capabilities, counter-measures that have proven effective against them in the past, as well as primers for various technologies that were intrinsic to combatting them. I imagine that the latter would easily be similarly useful against the Abyssals if utilized correctly, as well as in civilian sectors should it be deemed viable."

"Could you give us an example of some of those technologies then?" one of the Russian ambassadors requested, to which Levi sighed. This was going to take a while…

After several hours of talking in detail about several UNSC technologies, and their uses both on and off the battlefield, as well as discussions about how they could be integrated into the local situation, Leviathan finally breathed a sigh of relief. The 'debriefing' seemed to finally have come to an end, but understandably the Naval powers weren't willing to have her just go haring off, and given that Levi herself still needed resupplying, she figured that it would be best to go along with the Japanese and American contingents' 'request' that she accept their hospitality. THAT got a chuckle out of her. She'd never heard a more polite way of saying 'Please stay where we can keep an eye on you without killing us all' in all her years. The cruiser-woman wondered if anyone in ONI had ever made a similar request during their operations…

A knock came at the door to the bunker Levi was still seated in, and she turned to face the door. For a moment, there seemed to be some hesitation from whoever it was, which prompted the space-born woman to call out, "Come in!" The door then opened to reveal a young woman with long black hair held back by a seemingly horned metal headdress that her sensors suggested was some kind of radar array. The woman's asiatic features had a severity to them that was only accentuated by the deep red of her eyes, though the risque outfit she wore threw Levi for a bit of a loop. Then again, given some of the outfits that she'd seen on others, it was far from being over the top…

"Good evening. My name is Nagato, military liaison for the United States Navy Ship-girl program. I've been assigned to be your escort for time being," the woman said with a bow.

"Really?" Leviathan said, raising an eyebrow. "I won't claim to be an expert on the subject, but your name is Japanese, right? Do you mean that you're Japan's liaison to the United States Navy, or the United States liaison to Japan?"

Coughing slightly into her hand, Nagato nonetheless took the question in stride. "Due to circumstances of my summoning, I'm part of the United States Navy, attached to the Japanese Maritime Self Defence Force as the Americans' liaison. It is a bit of a personal matter, so I would request that any further questions of that nature be left until another time. Is that alright?"

"Ah, I see. Very well then, I won't pry too much. I take it that you're going to be leading me to wherever I'll be staying for the duration of my visit?"

"Of course. Follow me, if you please," the Japanese battleship said, motioning with one gloved hand towards the door. Standing up, Leviathan did exactly that as Nagato turned and stepped outside, her eyes dilating as the bright light outside hit them after having gotten used to the darkened interior of the bunker. Idly, the spaceship-girl noted that the area still had its full complement of marines about, as well as the redhead that she'd seen earlier, hand still on the butt of her revolver. The young woman's face was blank, but Leviathan could have sworn that the tension in her was radiating like a lighthouse. Giving the woman a nod, Levi ignored how the ship-girl's turrets kept tracking her, deciding to focus instead on following her new guide.

The sights and sounds of a blue-water naval base were much different from the kind that Leviathan knew, yet at the same time still held within it some of the more familiar noises that she was used to. NCOs barking orders and the poor schmucks beneath them jumping to fulfill them, the engineers cursing while their tools went to work… The spaceship-girl smiled to herself, thinking that even if the salt-water air burned her nose funnily, it added its own ambience to it, along with the wind that was coming off the coast.

Turning to look out towards the water itself, visible just past a few larger buildings and the hull of a carrier that was being repaired, a large 76 emblazoned on its gantry-covered superstructure. The bay was filled with smaller craft as they moved to and fro, and in the middle of the bay a couple of young - girls? Destroyers likely - could be seen undergoing some practice maneuvers. All in all, it looked deceptively peaceful for a place central to wartime operations…

Her escort waved down a transport that was just pulling up, the ensign at the wheel giving her an eyeful before the two ship-girls mounted the back of the truck, causing the suspension to groan a little before settling. Leviathan sat down on one of the bench-like seats along with Nagato, before the vehicle started moving towards their next destination, the pale-skinned woman's thoughts kept to herself as the sun set across the bay...

Richelieu stomped her way along Port Toulon's streets, anger practically coming off of her in waves as she made her way to one of the nearby officers' mess. While it may have been evening in Yokosuka, it was only getting to be sun-up here in France, and the battleship-cum-Admiral was not a very happy ship-girl to have spent all night dealing with that mockery of an interview. Trying to wrap her head around Leviathan's bullshit was bad enough when she was tired as she was, but then turning away to look at the stack of unanswered emails and reports that she still had to sift through was enough to make even the stoic kanmusu nearly cry. Resolving that if she had to deal with this much right now it would only be with a good cup of coffee or tea to keep her going, Richelieu had left her office to get some fresh air as well as her caffeine fortification.

Opening the door to the mess, she made an immediate beeline for the buffet-line, grabbing a tray and mug before sliding down the line. Normally the breakfast lineup was empty, as it was rare to have a heavy meal in the mornings, so it was fairly easy for the woman to grab a half-dozen croissants and a bowl of cereal, before moving to the espresso machine. The machine gurgled and groaned, but sadly nothing seemed to come out. Smacking the machine irritably, Richelieu's eyebrow twitched as the machine merely coughed out a black mist before giving up entirely. "ARGH! What do I have to do to get a proper cup around here?" she growled out.

"Ask the pilots. They somehow managed to get a machine in and working…"

Richelieu blinked and looked over to the table set against the wall, where a ship-girl wearing an old French Royal Navy uniform along with an iron corset and heel-boots was seen giving a tired smile on her face to the battleship, her laugh-lined face and pale green eyes twinkling even as she sipped at her tea. "G-Gloire? When did you get back in? I thought you were still on leave?"

"About three hours ago. Still dealing with travel lag... It doesn't matter what they say, ship-girls do NOT belong on trains," the world's first Ironclad replied with a sigh before smiling again and setting her cup down. "So, what did I miss? I heard there was quite a fuss over in the Philippines a few days ago…"

Gloire's smile didn't change as Richelieu groaned. "Ugh… The Abyssals performed a massed assault on Manila. Smashed a good sized chunk of the naval forces there, and then pulled a shore invasion," she said, angling for the hot chocolate machine and hoping for better luck. Thankfully it seemed to work just fine, and the smell of artificial cocoa filled the battleship's nostrils delightfully.

"Truly? Please tell me that they were able to evacuate!"

"It's… complicated. They tried to, but in the end managed to beat back the invasion," she said, sitting down across from the other shipgirl. Normally she'd be worried about more OPSEC but given how empty the place was, and the fact that Gloire was her own secretary ship, she felt nothing about unloading her troubles onto the older woman's shoulders. "They're still figuring out everything that went on there, but right now most of the other fleets are dealing with another so called 'defection' attempt."

Gloire grimaced. "Really? Unless it happens to be a new type or something that we haven't seen before, I don't think that should matter that much… What kind are we talking about?"

"The Japanese are calling her a 'Ju-class', but essentially it's a guided missile type," Richelieu said, causing her counterpart's eyes to widen.

"Really? You mean like Jaeger?"

"Nah, this one makes that Re-class look like a hack. She's practically covered in them."

"That's… not good news," Gloire replied, pushing back a lock of auburn hair as she stared into her mug. "So the enemy is likely to have a greater stand-off advantage then."

"Likely, but we don't know for certain. Especially since…." Richelieu tapered off with a grimace, wondering how much to say as she sipped at her chocolatine.

"Since what? Not enough left of the Abyssal to dissect? I imagine that given such a capability, they wouldn't have held back in shelling her…"

"Actually… they didn't. They've got her set up in a bunker apparently."

Gloire raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did someone get a golden bullet in on her?" she asked, only for Richelieu to shake her head.

"No, they took her in alive."

That caused the ironclad to gawk. "What?! Are you… Are they serious? After what happened all the other times…?"

"I know! I know! I tried arguing about it with them as well but… Apparently this one was part of why they were able to save Manila, so they're giving it… Special treatment," she growled.

"Sacré bleu... Did, did they say anything about…?"

"Non. I'll bet that they didn't want to bring up his name for fear of it coloring my opinions further during the questioning…" Richelieu said.

Three years prior, Chief of Staff Christophe Prazuck had given the okay at an attempt to open dialogues with the Abyssals that had been attacking European waters, an attempt that had been met with a supposedly welcome response. The Abyssals had sent a force of only six, ostensibly to discuss their reasons for their attacks, and to debate the possibility of a ceasefire.

It had been a ruse, of course. The Abyssals had gotten into the harbor, pretended to be nice… and then had 2 of them explode, killing nearly every human in the port area at the time. The remaining four immediately had begun shelling anything and everything in range, further causing casualties all along the Milhaud quays and the nearby civilian port as well. Only quick responses from offshore forces along with aerial support had put the monsters down, but in Richelieu's mind it was still too little too late.

The battleship-girl had been Prazuck's secretary ship at the time, and while the Chief of Staff had been killed, Richelieu herself had survived to fight back, keeping the attention of two of the enemy battleships on herself in a running battle along the shoreline while the remaining cruisers were targeted by missiles from french destroyers. For her 'heroic efforts', she'd been given the title of Admiral in the wake of things, and with no-one else at the time, the Prime Minister had left Richelieu in charge of naval operations until a suitable candidate could be found.

Unlike in many countries, the title of Admiral was not actually a rank in the French navy, but instead an honor, given to those who had distinguished themselves. This meant that while Richelieu had a bit more political power than most shipgirls ever saw, she was still subordinate to the Chief of Staff. While this was no problem normally, there were few officers these days who had the necessary experience and clout to take the position themselves, as most of them had been killed in the trap. This essentially meant that for all intents and purposes, Richelieu was the first ship-girl to have true command over a nation's military without a human counterpart aside from the Prime Minister himself.

It also meant that Richelieu had every reason to refuse any so-called defection ever again…

"Mon dieu… I cannot fathom how badly that's going to be," Gloire said, taking a bite of her croissant as the battleship-girl nodded and did the same. "So… how DID the questioning go?"

Swallowing a piece of her pastry, Richelieu sighed. "You will NOT believe me…"

Automatic doors slid open and closed as Vice Admiral Stanforth stepped through them to his quarters, pulling at his collar and setting his hands at the back of his hips. Arching his back until the man heard his spine pop in several places, the man finally let out a sigh in the privacy of his quarters. He was getting old, and he knew it. Constantly poring over reports and view-screens -as well as meetings with self-interested corporates and politicos- didn't help with one's overall physical shape, and the constant stress of a three decade war was causing his already silver hair to start falling out along the crown of his skull. Sitting down at his desk, the vice-admiral pulled out his trusty data-pad and started to go over his ship's status again.

The gunnery decks for the MAC guns had been breached during the battle when Leviathan took a plasma bolt to the fore decks, burning into the compartments there and sending occasional fits through the ship's electrical systems that were still being dealt with. Many of the MAC's technicians were injured or dead, but those that had remained had put on emergency suits and thrown themselves right back into it, bypassing damaged capacitors and slagged conduits while exposed to the void of space to get the ship's main armaments back into the fight. Stanforth had already put in no less than ten recommendations for medals of valor for the crew chiefs… Along with the entirety of Cradle's crew, and the piles of recommendations from the captains of the other remaining ships.

Setting the pad aside, Harold stood up and moved to the cabinet built into the wall of his office, opening the compartment that was stuffed with the standard regulation uniform shirts and slacks that every navy man had. And like most navy personnel who'd been around long enough, the vice admiral found that it made a nice, secure hiding place for fragile personal belongings… Like the bottle of 60 year old Skopje whiskey he was pulling out that he'd doled out sparingly over the years, leaving only six fingers worth in the bottom. Staring at the label, Stanforth wondered how many bottles like this were still floating around, tucked away in footlockers and in desk drawers. Skopje itself had been glassed 5 years prior, along with a good many innocent lives. For a moment, Harold was tempted to put it back, preserve what was likely the last bit of some brewer's art that the world would ever see… Then he sighed and unscrewed the top before pouring himself a plastic cup of it. Art is to be enjoyed after all, not merely gawked at…

The alcohol went down smoothly, leaving a pleasant burn in his gut as he set the glass down. Truthfully, it'd been better if he'd used a proper glass, but to cart around something that would just turn into more shrapnel if the ship lurched too hard solely for the sake of drinking smacked far too much of irresponsible hedonism than Harold was comfortable with… God knew that there was already so much that he was responsible for. Sitting down heavily within the cushions confines of his desk chair, the old sailor let out a heavy sigh.

"A thousand dead up here… Sixteen hundred more on the surface again as well…" Stanforth muttered to himself grouchily.

"Plus the three hundred thousand civilian casualties reported so far," piped up a male voice from the speakers on his desk, causing the admiral to give a hot glare in its direction as Hephaestus sprang into being on the holo-tank.

"Thanks Heph, I needed that," he said with biting sarcasm as he tossed back the last of the whiskey in his glass. "Always a pleasure to know that you'll be there to count the graves for me. So, what's so important that you need me now?"

"You asked me to remind you to make that letter before you retired for the evening. As much as I know you need the rest, we won't be able to send it once we hit slipspace unless we want to broadcast our position and path..."

The old man sighed. "Right, right. Alright then, you know the drill. Secure all channels and make sure nobody's gone and bugged my office, will ya?"

"Already done sir, nothing to report there."

"Good…" he said, before pouring himself the last three fingers of whiskey and booting up the word processor.

2300 HOURS, JULY 18, 2552

CLASSIFIED TOP-SECRET

COMM-SCRIBED/PTS 9386-9

00834-19223-HS / VADM STANFORTH, HIERONYMUS MICHAEL

00230-00923-MP / ADM PARANGOSKY, MARGARET ORLENDA

RE: OPERATION: BRAVADO

Margaret,

Paperwork's almost done on this end. So is the whiskey. I guess that means I'll be headed back your way before long, especially after the number I put Levi through this time around. Boatswain says she'll be sidelined for two months at least, so I've already filed with Fleet to transfer the crew to Coenwulf when I make my rounds in Sydney.

At any rate, this one was certainly a victory, as difficult as it is for me to call it that. I know the casualty reports are going to look ugly, but that's nothing new. We lost about half the battlegroup, as well as Cradle. Surface didn't fare much better either: Caracas, Huiren, Côte d'Azur, Silma and Enfield, all parking lots now...some because the enemy's good at what they do and others because we refused to give them the opportunity.

It's just been so long since we've walked away from one of these things alive. We crushed eighteen of those bastards. I can't remember the last time that happened. And now they're gone. It'll take us a few years to clean up, probably a dozen or so to fix what was done on the ground. But they're gone...that's got to count for something.

A file's attached with some interesting data Iroquois picked up. The Covenant were transmitting something from the planet's surface before we blew the lid off it. We're not sure what it was, but it would not surprise me in the least if it ends up being grouped with sites like Onyx, Meridian, Arcadia or even that thing Halsey's digging up on Reach.

Anyway, AAR is en route. Talk to you soon, maybe over tea?

- HMS

Stanforth leaned back in his chair as he tapped the 'send' button, letting Hephaestus scan it for any tracers or such that might have planted themselves in the system before giving one last sigh of relief, swirling the whiskey in his glass before knocking it back, letting it sit on his tongue for one final moment before swallowing it down.

"Letter's planted in the reports sir, standard encryption and double layered as per protocol. She'll get it within the day once we send it through FLEETCOM," the AI said.

"Good. Set your data scavengers to delete it from your memory once it's sent and then dim the lights, will you? I'm going to hit the sack."

"Understood sir. Have a good evening," Hephaestus said, before vanishing from the holo tank. As the lights faded, Stanforth took off his duty uniform and set it into the laundry hamper next to his wardrobe, settling himself onto his bed with a sigh as the room's air conditioning brought the temperature down to a comfortable level. As the man let himself drift off into slumber, he could have sworn that he felt someone tuck the sheets around him tighter around him before placing a hand on his shoulder… a thought that brought a last little smile to the man's lips before the sandman took him...

Leviathan's eyes flicked open just as her internal clock hit 0400 hours, bringing her to full wakefulness as the dream started to fade. She sighed as she sat up, rubbing her eyes before looking at the 'window', really a monitor that showed what the weather was like outside, noting that it was still dark out. The ship-girl wasn't an expert on dreams, but Levi had to say that for the first such dream she'd had since becoming… well, herself… It could have been worse. Remembering how tired her Admiral had been after Sigma Octanus IV like that however DID serve as a reminder of her current situation. Sighing, the cruiser wondered if Harold would have approved of her actions, or if he'd have done something else? Her recollections of that part of his life were fleeting, as most of his political actions had been done either on Reach or on Earth itself, thus she could only remember how Stanforth had acted when trying to convince his fellow officers of what he had planned from her own bridge.

"Bad dreams?" Hephaestus piped up from her ear curiously.

"No… a bit of the opposite actually," she said with a slight smile as she got up from the bed. "Still, time waits for no-one. Better get ourselves ready for the grinder again and see what they've set up for repair facilities here.."

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..."

"Ammunition and fuel reserves are good for the next few weeks, due to the previous rationing of our forces. Raw materials and reagents are at a low point, but not critically so," Secretary ship Ooyodo said as she read off a clipboard, her fingers twiddling a pen between them as she stated the facts.

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..."

"We've already started setting up docking areas for a relief force to come in to aid Manila in reconstruction and rescue operations. Admiral Richardson suggested that we try and establish a more fortified line there, stating that he'd be talking to the politicians for support in speaking with the Russians and the Chinese for materials. As much as it would be regrettable to do so, making Manila into a fortress would aid tremendously in the security of the area."

"Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..."

"What about Truk's forces? Did she report anything odd occurring in her area?" Goto asked.

"Ie, nothing out of the ordinary yet. Though she reports that she'll be stepping up her patrols in order to catch any stragglers or other forces that she may come across..."

"PleasepleasepleasePLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAASE~~~!"

"And finally we come to THIS thing," Ooyodo said, pointing down at a begging Yuubari at their ankles.

"PLEASE LET ME TALK TO HER!" the green-haired cruiser said as she gripped onto Admiral Goto's calves, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as the man massaged his eyes with one hand.

"Yuubari... Even assuming that this woman's story is in any way true, I HIGHLY doubt that she's going to be willing to tell you anything that she hasn't already been willing to tell us, given how she already claimed that most of her materials are classified..."

"BUT IT'S THE OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME! Even if she's lying, how often do we get a LIVE Abyssal to grill for their technology, let alone one like this?!"

"Contain yourself Yuubari-chan! Even if these are peculiar circumstances, we can't afford to just jump at any idea that comes to mind. We still have no idea how much Leviathan-san is willing to share. She already made it clear that there are things she will and will not divulge. If you really wish to know, ask Nagato-sama to include it in her questioning later."

"She's right Yuubari. Compose yourself, hmm?" Goto said.

"...Why can't I just ask Akashi since she's going to be helping repair her at the docks?"

"Other than the fact that Akashi's likely to at least try and respect doctor-patient confidentiality?" the Japanese admiral said with a deadpan expression. "Because at this point everyone's at least willing to give Leviathan at least some measure of slack, at least in the government, and if that gets botched because we got overeager or too nosy, too fast, then there's a good chance of this all backfiring in our face and making this a worst case scenario VERY quickly.."

"Oooooohhhhhh… fiiiiiiiiine," the young ship-girl said as she got up off the floor. "Still can't believe that we're getting this opportunity and yet I have to wait… Any chance of being able to be assigned to the intel jockeys who are going to be looking over the info first? I'm sure I can help out there!"

Ooyodo's reply was an immediate knife-hand to the cruiser's head. "No means no, Melon-head!"