Outside, I greet the incoming fleet. Pulling on my overcoat, the nippy air feels sharp. Such a temperature keeps me awake, acting as my poor substitute for sleeping less. Yawning, and scratching my head. There are more pressing matters for me this morning. Beginning with intercepting the incoming fleet.

They dock. Most give their greetings and chat happily with me about their mission. They come and go, professionally or not, I greet them all the same. Noting the conditions of every girl as they come in from their sortie. Checking their riggings, seeing to their wounds. Sending those with more concerning issues to the workshop. For the most part, I'm glad to see there are no major medical problems.

One of them tries to slip from my attention. The head of the group. Detaching herself from the fleet.

I give chase. Crossing through a path, I block her way. Coming close to colliding with her, which prompts me to extend my hand.

"Odin."

"Sir," Odin curtly addresses me, "Is there an issue?"

I must have made a face because she's beginning to form a pout.

"I spoke to Nurnburg in the infirmary." I point out, "Not only were you diagnosed with a concussion, but you proceeded to carry out a weeklong operation. You ignored your check-ups, altered your personal medical report, and blatantly disregarded treatment. You understand that right?"

Irritable from my lack of sleep, I try to remain direct yet fair. To this end, the weight of my words gets to her. She frowns, curling her fingers. Odin meets my gaze with her impassive glare, but underneath is the frozen anxiety of getting caught. Thankfully, she's not one to back away when confronted.

"Yes…sir." She is slow to say, "Am I in trouble?"

"Yes."

"Am I…going to be detained?"

"Depends." I close my eyes and shake my head, "Odin, we've had this conversation before. I've tolerated this behavior before because I believe you would correct your habit to ignore self-preservation. However, doctoring your medical records and giving me a false report is a step too far."

Odin bottom lip shakes.

"My leniency depends on how you will follow through with these next steps," I admit, rubbing my hair underneath my officer's cap, "I will consider the severity of your punishment according to this."

Odin weighs her option. Shifting her weight foot to foot. I let her take another moment to answer. When she doesn't respond, I clear my throat.

"As an officer, I have every right to order you there. If you don't comply, I can call for Friedrich der Grosse...or summon Scharnhorst and Gneisenau from their patrols. Those two are more than enough to escort you personally. Then determine the best course of action after you receive proper treatment and rest," I clear my throat, "Or, you can come with me and we won't have to go that length, understood?"

She ponders her choice.

Odin is one of the best strategists to serve in the Iron Blood's firing line. Her zeal in battle is unmatched, yet it's her discipline that dominates her skill. The addition of her counter Siren capabilities increases her utility on the field. Of all those in charge of handling the field command, she is one of three that I trust the most.

Her aptitude for the battlefield and insight on Siren tactics allows me to adjust accordingly to sudden ambushes or mirror sea shifts. Combined with the other priority ships in my command, Odin is a force to be reckoned with.

Which is why I find relief that I'm able to subdue this force of nature.

With a defeated pout she hands her head low.

"Yes, Herr Kommadant."

Our walk is short and uneventful. Odin on the other hand gave sulked her way through. Keeping her distance and refusing to look at me. Nevertheless, she complies the entire way. Letting Nurnburg examine her and give her the checkup she has sorely put off.

I remain. Keeping an eye on the entry to the infirmary. Partially to ensure Odin doesn't sneak out again. Nurnburg is fully capable of handling Odin. In the very case she can't, there is my backup plan. Unlike Odin's appointment, I didn't wait long before I see a familiar set of red horns. Her long black hair flows with her foreboding presence.

Upon entering the medical station, she greets me with a hug. Such warmness, while expected, still gives me pause. My surprise fades as I warp my arms around her in return.

"Good morning, Friedrich," I state untangling myself from her tender graces, "You're in a good mood today."

"Why not? It's a delight to speak to you, my child." Friedrich der Grosse's eyes flicker yellow, a sign of her happiness, "Is she in there?"

"Yes, going through a couple more tests. She's making sure there isn't any permanent damage I need worry about. She's usually more resistant than this."

"Odin may be stubborn and reckless, but when you put your foot down, she obeys," she explains, I scoff at the implications, "Hardheaded girl, to put it lightly. If I would guess, her time as field commander led her to believing she needs to shoulder her burdens. To her own detriment, I suppose. I'm wondering where she took that from…"

"Yeah, yeah," I shrug, trying to not see her smug grin, "I wasn't much better either, mother."

Friedrich giggles lightly, grinning apologetically, "Please understand, picking on you for those times feels a little nostalgic. I miss carrying you back to your bed."

"Childish, yes…but," sudden flashback to her rigging gives me chills, "You were excellent at making me stay in my bed. You're scary on your own. Not to mention your nightmarish creatures, lurking in the hallway."

"You are my child, after all," she quips, "As for my rigging, they are extensions of myself, the twins are sweethearts. They're only looking out for your wellbeing."

I rub my neck, "Exactly like you, mom. And I thank you for that, even if back then I was very bullheaded."

Receiving a tap from behind me, I turn to an awaiting Nurnburg. Clutching a clipboard, she stares up at me.

"S-sir-," She mumbles, "Oh! Herrin Friedrich. I didn't expect you'd be here…do you need anything?"

She shakes her head, "No, no. I am fine. I'm here on Odin's behalf."

"O-okay," the succubus cruiser nods carefully, "Is it okay for her to know?"

"Its fine," I reassure, "Odin will be in her care after she's discharged. Whatever is confidential will remain between us. Rest assured."

And to make sure she actually follows through with treatment. If there is one person, I can trust the most for accountability, it would be her.

"So, what's the damage?"

Nurnburg flips through the first page and clears her throat, "Odin still has a mild concussion. Headaches, nausea, and slight bouts of confusion. Beyond that, her overall condition is fine and stable. I would say she need another week to rest."

Friedrich and I share a look. The battleship speaks next, "Is she ready?"

The cruiser shakes her head, "N-not yet. I want to wait another hour for results to process."

Another hour. I'll need to send someone to help my secretary. I wonder who's available around this time…

"Go ahead, Nurnburg, you may continue your duties." When she didn't leave, I eye her with concern, "Is there something else?"

"I-I'm s-s-sorry." She closes her eyes and bows, trembling. Her face flushing. Nurnburg hugs the clipboard, "I w-was the one t-that lost her records."

Upon either instinct or I simply didn't want our main medical specialist breaking down, I reach up and pat her head. Causing her to squirm, but she doesn't back away.

"You're doing an excellent job, Nurn," I rub a few more times, avoiding her horns. Very sensitive areas, from what I learned from Friedrich, "Being that you have other duties, keep in mind to send it directly to my office the next time so I can read them as soon as I can. If any of your future patients give you issues bring the complaint to me. Personally, if you must, understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good," I stop and chuckle, "Go on, we'll be waiting for her."

As soon as she left, I turn around and found a chair to sit in. Cramped by most standards, the waiting room only holds enough space to fit half a dozen people at most. Chairs cling to the walls with one open space in the middle. There is a couch nestled inside that can afford two occupants. One cheap office desk sits closely to the door to the infirmary, watching out for potential patients. Plopping onto the couch, I rub my face.

Failing to rid myself of the fatigue, I reach into my pocket and retrieve my phone. Rarely do I indulge myself in texting while on duty, this is the fastest way to get information across the island. Sending a message to Mainz, I sit back and rub my hands.

Friedrich giggles, having taken a spot with me on the couch, she reaches for my hand and holds it, "Uncomfortable?"

"For the sake of my pride, I decline to answer that," I mutter, "Woke up earlier than I expected. Didn't sleep well anyways. There may be more work back in the office, so I sent Mainz ahead of me. I hope Graf Zeppelin can forgive me for this."

"Hmm," the battleship relaxes, scooting her chair closer to mine, "I doubt she will have any problems. For both of them. Mainz is as much a stickler for finishing her duties on or off duty."

"Every Iron Blood is…" I mumble in meek agreement, "To hell with our industrious nature."

"Our work ethic is only one trait that defines us," she muses, "Mind you, the girls care about your free time as much as you care for us, Rene."

"Yeah," I shake my head, "I know you volunteered. But I ask again, you think you can handle Odin's duties?

"Work is a trivial matter," Friedrich's smile grows more serious, certainty in her tone, "If her duties do overwhelm me, which I doubt it, I will delegate it to more capable hands. For some reason, such a thing is a very rare thing for you to do."

I give her a sheepish grin, "Friedrich…"

"Right now, I think there are more pressing matters," she lets go of my hand and pats her lap, "Come here my child. Rest, then you may return to work."

"Alright…fine."

There really is only one answer to this. An answer that I gladly accept. She lowers my head on her lap. Even through her red gauntlets, they still felt somehow soothing to me. Raking through my hair and removing my cap. Almost instantly, my buzzing mind fades into the dark.

Waking up was a blur. Especially since I woke up to my own room. While rested, I felt a little cheated. Then again, I slept under Friedrich's watchful eye. Major blunder and blessing.

After getting out of bed, I contacting Friedrich. She gives me the full details of what transpired after I fell asleep. With the procedures over, she carried out the plan I had for her. Odin, as punishment, is removed from her post and regulated to base for two weeks. Constant observation for dizzy spells and given some medicine to help with her headaches. According to her scans, there's no damage, a relieving revelation.

Friedrich brought Odin to the dorms. Secure in my confidence that she will stay there, I made my way to the office. Put out by the crawling sunset, I arrive to find the office empty. A note left behind by Graf Zeppelin.

'Mainz and I finished today's work. She left you cookies in your desk. Have a good evening, sir.'

Sighing, with all today's labor finished and filed neatly, the best I can do is close up the office and lock up. Dumping my work on the girls always left me with a sour taste.

The cookies made up for a slim benefit. Mm, chocolate.

Conducting a few short rounds and checkups around the base, I head back to my quarters. Chessboard in tow. While I wasn't able to get back in time and offer a game to Graf Zeppelin or Mainz, I am able to practice more by myself. The nap left me more invigorated than before. Playing chess will ease me into the night.

My quarters are spacious, five rooms for myself with a top floor and basement. I only really used one bedroom. Frequented the living room and occasionally used the kitchen. These facilities were meant for a full staff. This is assuming there would've been more officers on base, but being the only one here, I make do with the limited entertainment. Hence, my trusty chessboard.

While in the process of removing my uniform, I get an ear for knocking at the front door.

"Odin?"

"Sir."

Opening the door to my quarters, its uncommon to see a casually dressed Odin. Underneath it is a simple black dress, she still wears her uniform and cap to keep off the cold. This contrasting set of attire is as befuddling as the random battlecruiser with a reddening face.

"Come in." Waving her inside, instantly touching the cold, "It's still quite chilly out there."

"…thank you."

I can clearly see the bandages still wrapped around her head. Although she may try to hide it, the stiches on her side made her wobble when she walks. I help her inside my dorm, taking her coat and putting it on a hook.

"What brings you here?" I ask, rolling up my sleeves, "Aren't you supposed to be resting? Its late."

"I did," she states, arms behind her back, "I…I wanted to talk to you."

"Certainly," There's a tension between us, most of which radiated from the girl. Not wanting to make this harder on her, I confront it directly.

"It may be late, but please. I'm willing listen."

Odin looks…smaller. She is short for a battlecruiser. This time, standing in front of me, she appears tiny. Her foreboding presence lessens. Without her full uniform, she looks like a simple girl wearing an overcoat for the cold and a cap that is out of place. She's nervous.

"I'm sorry." She says, barely above a whisper. Eyes scanning the carpeted floor, "For my behavior and actions. I shouldn't have done that. As a member of this esteemed fleet, I should have known better. I am supposed to be a model, as Odin of the Iron Blood. And I failed. Please, forgive me."

Smaller than most of the girls, Odin could be mistaken for a child. That is to say, for the less observant eye. Her heavy military uniform removes this impression. Personally, I appreciate the modest dress. Even now, appearing so much smaller without her rigging and full uniform – any stranger would mistaken her for a meek young woman.

"You don't need to apologize," I say to her, shrugging, "I only want you to take care of yourself, okay? You girls are powerful, but not gods."

Odin doesn't budge, looking more guilty then ever. Approaching her, I slip my fingers between her cap and hair. Rubbing her head and admiring her well done braids.

"Just take my words to heart, okay?" I soothe her. "I forgive you."

She nods silently. Face very red. Not to embarrass her any further, I look away and clear my throat.

"Now then," she follows my gaze to my dining room table. My chess board in display. Already sensing her next words, I make my offer, "Would like to play a game or two?"

"Yes, please."

Smiling, I pull out a chair for the lady. When I finally get to my seat and the board ready, Odin watches me thoughtfully. I ignore her gaze and focus on sitting the board. As soon as the pieces are set, Odin's expression turns to one of intense focus. Furrowing her brow, she rolls her shoulders back and anticipates my turn.

While Graf Zeppelin dislikes having to start first, Odin holds no qualms over which color I give her. Or how it is done. No matter how I set the board, she always accepted the position she was in. Almost seeing it as a challenge for her mind. A shared sentiment.

Immediately, we play the game with an instant first moves.

"Check."

Pirc Defense.

I nod and moves a bishop in front of the king. Threatening my king is always a part of her strategy. And from my past games, it makes her more antsy. From then on, we begin forming out lines. Establishing very close pawn chains.

Normally, I would try to strike up a conversation. Odin is unlike most of my opponents, for she is never one for idle chit-chat. Her attention solely on the board. Darting across the black and white squares. Keeping close to each position and going for any opening. The battlecruiser makes another breakthrough.

"Check."

Her second one. One hand quietly repositions the queen away from the oncoming threat. Three pawns gone with both my knights. Both her bishops and one of her knights were gone, but points and loss of such pieces never seemed to faze the priority ships' resolve. The seizure of my favored pieces almost causes a wince. Almost.

This is why I loved facing Odin on the chessboard. Putting on the best poker face and possessed multiple plans for each subsequent move. Incredible challenge. Her moves were planned especially for sacrifices or exchanges. Most of my other opponents do not possess her expertise. In the entire base, four possess that potential or are close to it.

"Check."

Score one for the only male on this island.

Odin pauses and swivels her head around the board. Her lips purse. The check appears to have left me in a worse condition. I am down to my last three pawns, two rooks and my queen. Fully bringing them to bear and trapping her to the corners of the board. Domination over the middle tiles allows me free reign.

I throw both my bishops in one risky suicidal charge. Two for one queen. A painful exchange, but one that gave me an advantage. Finally freeing my trapped rook. While Odin accepted the results, her exasperated huff ushers a short-lived peace of mind.

Time crawls. Taking her quiet periods of thinking between turns, I utilize cursory observations to the world around us. Bright sun light transforms into orange warm hues. The cold never subsiding. Several momentary spills of awareness gave me the chance to see how Odin is handling this. Over time her stoic mask falters a little. Bit by bit, she gives way to simple gestures of panic.

Melting away her sudden shock, the switch back to focus was near instant. Plenty of ground was lost. Each recent move was still methodical and planned. Slower this time. All met with further scrutiny. The best part about this experience was watching Odin's cheeks grow red from frustration.

"Check."

Odin sits aback, "W-what."

"Check," I repeated, holding up my reclaimed knight, "I said check."

"I don't understand," Her chair scoots closer, "Why didn't you take back your queen?"

No response was given. Only further playing of the game. Leaving the strategist reeling from the recent move. Ignoring her only made her muffle an insult.

In one desperate run of turns, I had taken down all of her useful pieces in another deadly assault. Queens and rooks sit to the side. Only my rook and reborn knight takes place to protect my king. Yet this left two of Odin's pawns one spot away from encountering my backline. One pawn sat close to victory only to be threatened by the knight.

She makes her final mistake. Rallying her king away from my pieces. My last move prevents her from pushing the single pawn that can enable her victory.

There, we reach the same outcome as all out other games.

"Checkmate."

The mask that occupied the cruiser's face completely fades away. Her stoic façade twists to one of confusion. With one stiff finger, she traces the path of each piece. Muttering under her breath. Lining each piece to possible moves or anything to enable her another chance.

Dejected, she sunk lower in her seat. Pouting with arms folded. I have my fleeting glory. Pity touches my heart. I reach for the cap on the table and place it gently over her head. She hesitantly adjusts it to hide her face. Quivering lips forming her disappointed pout. The warmth behind her cheeks still very apparent. I know how she doesn't like me seeing her tear up.

"That is the hundredth time we have done this," Odin grumbles lowly, "I don't understand how you elude me."

I chuckle, receiving her ire in a form of a frown, "You are one of the best players I have faced here on this base. But like everyone else, I cannot be beaten."

She shakes her head and readjusts herself, "You're impossible."

I chuckle darkly in amusement, earning one pointed sneer. Most of our matches ended this way. In fact, all of them did. An idea came to mind that might change the odds. Give her an edge. A sort of 'deal of the devil' ordeal.

"Okay, I can always teach you. Know my tricks. Then maybe you can finally defeat me."

Odin erects her head. Hanging her jaw, she rolled it side to side. Closing her mouth, she shakes her head. Swallowing what I assumed was her spit.

"No." Returning to her stoic side, "I want to figure it out on my own."

Of course, "By all means."

My hands reach over towards her pieces, which she passes them over reluctantly. Curling a grin, I turn up at her action.

"Can…may we play again?"

"No more tonight, you need to rest," I tilt my head towards the window. Odin dims when she sees the night.

We get up wordlessly. She helps me get my pieces together and I retrieve my coat. Coming back to the living room, she's about to head out before I call out to her.

"May I walk you back to your dorm?"

Pausing briefly, she shrugs. Still holding onto that expressionless mask of hers.

Stepping out into the snow, the two of us make our way out of the officer's dorms. Snowflakes blanket the ground, enhancing the Siren tech-based buildings erected on the base. Made with the mixture of Iron Blood architecture and Siren plating, fortress towers dot the large island base. Once an abandoned research center, one unrelated to Sirens, it was later bought by High Command and rebuilt. Dorms, amenities, and a combat sector for exercise and practice.

In this observation, I had failed to notice the hand tugging my sleeve.

"Herr Kommandant?"

"Ah, yes," Blinking to attention, "Sorry, Odin, I've been thinking to myself."

"It's okay." She pauses, "Can you wait a moment?"

Odin hides a wince with scratching her nose. Turning her head back towards the base's quiet exterior, "There is one thing I wanted to ask…"

"Certainly."

The cruiser looks up at me, "Why do you care so much?"

Unexpected question. One that I often wonder for myself when it comes to serving this alliance of ours. I knew the answer to this. Of course, Odin would be the one asking that question.

"That is a good question isn't it. Very odd if I am say so."

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, "I learned a lot. Playing chess with you," Her feet shuffle across the ground, "For two years, I learned your tactics and followed your leadership, but I never understood you."

"You look rather monotonous at work. Stuck, for a lack of a better word. I can't tell if you enjoy being the Kommadant…or you'd rather play chess. You confuse me."

She's…not wrong. Odin is a smart girl, for this reason I appointed her as the field commander for most operations. No words or few sentences can really convey the 'why' to it all. Deep layers to this that takes time to explain. To understand. For her and for me. Seeing it for myself, it boils down to one concept. An issue that drives me to stay at this post.

They may be ships. But they are women too. People like me.

"Truthfully, it was better than the alternative."

"Alternative?"

My hand reaches into my officer's jacket. Searching around, I pull out the piece of metal I stowed away. Carefully observing our surroundings. Ensuring that I am truly alone with her, I cup it tight in my hands.

"An Iron Cross?"

The golden badge shaped in the cross-pattern common in many Iron Blood military awards. Found also on plenty of the fleet's attire. I motion for the confused cruiser to come closer. Allowing her to hold the red, yellow, and black ribbon hand from the top.

"Not quite," Mirthfully chuckle, "The Cross of Honour for Valour. I earned this before Azur Lane. In a different field of war."

Watching her gradually fawn over it would have made me amused. If the memories around it were not so painful. Her small, gloved hand reaches for it before recoiling back. Odin gives me a deeply hidden and hinting pleading glance. One of pure curiosity. If I was not mistaken, hidden innocent awe.

"May I?"

"You may."

Giving it to her to hold, she inspects the medal with great care. Gentling cradling it in two hands. The sight brought a warm feeling to my heart.

"I've never seen you wear it," She asked still mesmerized by it, "Why?"

The memories flashed briefly. The raids. Too briefly and too much for me to completely bear.

"My brothers."

Her eyes grew wide.

"Your brothers?" She repeats back to me.

I breath through my nose, "Brothers-in-arms. Out of everyone that earned this when I did– I was the only one alive to receive it."

Odin slides her boots against the ground.

"I see."

With one hand, I pat her on her cap. It is not as comforting as touching her hair, but the gesture still affords credit for attempting.

"Chess…is an outlet for me." I frown, not at her, "My squad leader taught me. He was...a good man. Now I play it for them. It's what he...they would've wanted."

Odin remains unfazed. Unmoving. Keeping her fingers wrapped around the cross. Deep down, I hoped there was some event occurring in her. Manifesting.

As if a new revolutionized idea struck her, Odin slowly hands it back to me. She straightens herself. Cap readjusted and her black clothes smoothed out. Dawning the same emotionless expression with hinted difference. Much like Graf Zeppelin from the other night, there was a change in her.

Unvoiced and unheard.

I wonder.