"Oh? Weser? You're in Herr Kommadant's chair."

Breaking my concentration, I knew the voice the moment she stepped into the office. Sunlight threatens to ruin my mood further, I stretch my arms and half-wave at the black-haired carrier. In the back of my mind, I recall an important piece of information that is currently fleeting in my mind. Whatever it may be, it's related to Strasser.

"Finishing up some work he left behind," I give her a minor fib, "I have the board set up on the table over there. You can grab a seat once I'm done over here."

Not going to mention how he fell ill for the second time in the past two to three weeks. I swear, once this whole thing blows over those girls owe me big time. Let's hope Mainz can pull through with her promise. I wonder where she's going to get me a new surfboard.

"Leftover work? Strange, I was his secretary for him yesterday," my neck heats up the moment she said it, "No matter, I already approve of him as a capable officer. He's quite pleasant to be around."

"You like him that much?" I let a grin come, "I told you he's a good one."

"Admiral Winkler is a good judge of character," we both nod in agreement. The old man may have too many puns to my liking. Wise beyond his years and a good eye for talent.

"He knows Weber the best," I surmise, "I dare say, he knows better than us. How he deals with Weber's unwillingness to rest is beyond me."

"He did seem fatigued the other day, I've never seen someone function the way he does," Strasser places her thoughts aside, "Assuming he was going to show up here, I don't think I mind waiting until later to ask. I was going to ask him about the contents of my lab, yet, since he isn't here, I'll have to save such an inquiry for later."

I hum. Not being able to help her in such an area.

"Based on your look, I don't think I need to ask," Strasser pointedly gives on, "So, what are you wishing to talk to me about.

I wish I could play chess the same way she does. The clock she pulls out makes me nervous. Nevertheless, if I'm going to be able to survive long enough to carry out Mainz' request, and by extension whatever Friedrich is planning, then I'll have to do my best.

"Now," gleefully surveying the pieces on the board, "Want to begin?"

Strasser glances at her watch. After everyone had their dinner and prepared for their evening schedules. For a moment, I thought she would decline. Briefly, I see her shoulders sag, before slowly being rolled back. Her interest in chess won over her need for a well-kept timeline. Licking her lip, she hesitates.

"Hmm," I muse loudly, "Alright, why not this."

I glance at the clock. Gaging the time, I figured we had enough time before it became too late to play. Or at least too late for her, Strasser was as much a morning person as she is a timekeeper.

"We can play timed chess. Whoever wins has to talk about themselves. Whatever information it may be."

Strasser is shocked. Clearly she didn't think, the one person who likes taking her time, decided to get stuck in a time crunch. Against one of the forerunners into 'chrono' research. Great, if I win this, I'm going to ask Mainz to get me two surfboards and a new fishing net. Let's hope she can honor it because seeing the twin tailed carrier's cheshire like smile fills me with dread.

"Certainly, I will take your offer, only on one condition."

Interested, I raise an eyebrow, "And that is?"

"If any information is given, we must include anything personal. Such as who sent you to talk to me."

Physically flinching, I curl my fingers back from the board. Strasser leans forward and carefully studies my face and posture. Failing to compose myself, I cough into my wrist and flatten out my uniform.

"What do you mean, I'm not doing this for anyone."

"Maybe, if this wasn't a request coming from nowhere, and you are not one to get involved in such disputes," I visibly clinch, watching my lie crumble. She does offer mercy, by softening her glare and she places a hand on one of my elbows, "If I do win, I promise you, nothing leaves this room. Not even to my own sister."

Skeptical, I gauge her reaction and words. Seeing no deceit, she means her words. Deep down, it did not sit well with me. Only a handful knew of me, fewer still understand why I keep it hidden. I can decline and head back to my quarters. Forgetting about the challenge and moving on with this week. On another hand, there is other information I want to learn. I carefully think upon my next course of action.

"You know, I'm not such an open book," She licks her lips, "Secrets? Gossip? Try me."

"Can't pass this up," I look at the board, "Then, for this game. If I were to win, I need you to tell me what's going on between you and Graf Zeppelin."

Whatever retort she had dies with a frown. To Strasser's discomfort, I maintain my eye contact. Refusing to stand down and hold my ground. Strasser is a confident woman and a terribly prideful one. Ironic in a way, since she shares these strong qualities with her own sister. Deflecting remarks and teasing are a major part making her different from her .

"Fair…fair," She replies neutrally, her frown belies her real feelings, "Before we begin, the timer?"

"One moment," I move from my chair.

Digging around in my desk, grasping what I was looking for. Coming back to the board, I place the small box on the side. Made of polished oak, two clocks were behind a layer of hard glass. Rewinding the two of them, I place the timer at five minutes each. Strasser likes a fast-paced game which deeply contrasts my usual playstyle. Her preference usually meant high risk, high reward. This game was no different. Ensuring the two buttons still worked, I put it down on the side of the board.

Damn it, Mainz, you owe me for this. You owe me big time.

Settling into my chair, I crack my knuckles and prepare. Strasser reaches over with a gloved hand and awaits.

"Ready?" All reservations gone, her lips curling into a daring smile.

"Of course," I return the gesture.

There's only one way I can play this game…I need to take on the strategies of the Kommadant .

The aircraft carrier places her king's pawn into the middle squares. I place a pawn diagonal of hers. Unique for her, the Scandinavian opening. She must be out of practice if she's reverted to using this first move. Being on the timer prevents me from responding with words. Instead, I let the game speak for me.

Taking her pawn, I expose my queen. A rare gesture for me that even makes her lose ten seconds. Seeing my offer, I wasn't surprised to see Strasser take my strongest piece from me. Trade accepted. Now the game has been leveled.

With both queens off the board, the next few moves were a mess. She sends out the bishop near her king to force my pieces into disarray. Quickly, I move my knights around, plugging the gaps. Strasser quickly responds in kind, creating small pawn links that jut out of her line. Making it difficult for me to push forward. Instead, I focus on consolidating my control over the middle four spots.

Two minutes in, with Strasser behind with a twenty second falling. Observing the pressured reality. With most of my pieces focusing on a tight knit defense in the middle, I watch as Strasser castles her king to the left side of the board. Leaving me to have to maneuver my king safely to my own left side. Yet, forcing me to coral the rook and bishop there. Leaving my knights, pawns, and remaining rook to hold off the slowing encroaching white bishops and knights.

Luckily, I managed to maneuver a bishop to the right. Not being as adept at using knights as me, Strasser makes the mistake of clustering her knights in front of the spots her monarchs once sat. Unable to move one of them, lest she risks her king. Thus, giving me a chance to threaten her most favored pieces.

A pawn of mine, one that stubbornly held out in the middle, managed to thrust forward. My opponent frowns as it threatens one of the knights. Not wanting to lose it, she moves back to her knight. Gleefully, I charge my bishop, producing my planned suicide attack. Taking a rook.

Shocked by the blatant charge, Strasser loses a further fifteen seconds on the clock. Two minutes left on mine, a minute and half for her. Biting her bottom lip, Strasser scrambles to remove the bishop. But her moments of hesitation would cost her. As with my misdirection, I was able to move up my knights again. Creating two separate forks for both her remaining knight and her two bishops.

Frowning at her disadvantageous position, Strasser pulls back the knight. Losing a bishop and a pawn. Undeterred, Strasser sees an opening for my trapped rook and conducts the same strategy I did on her. Accepting my oversight, I take her remaining bishop and set up one last offensive before we head towards our final minute.

One minute left, and it is clear who will win. Strasser is down to her last thirty seconds and is visibly disappointed. I managed to create two more openings that lead her to lose all her remaining special pieces aside from that one knight she decided to save. After failing to get another pawn to the other side of the board, the aircraft carrier scrambles what forces she has left.

Spreading out her last three pawns, Strasser watches intently as my knights, with a bishop, surround her pieces. All the rooks were lost, in either failed breakouts from their corners or simply being shot from a distance by a suicidal bishop.

Upon her turn, it was already decided.

"I concede," Strasser bites back. Pouting with shimmering golden eyes.

"Good game, Strasser," I congratulate her, already resetting the clocks, "Now, wait a moment before I set back the board."

As I do, I notice a sudden shift in the room. Strasser would normally begin writing down new plans for next time. However, when she didn't pull out her notebook or pencil, I immediately felt worried. Placing the finishing touches, I find Strasser looking away. Her hands in her lap. Frowning and using her bangs to hide her eyes.

"Strasser?" I ask gently, "Are you okay?"

She nods her head. Eventually, she takes a deep breath.

"So…you want to know about my sister and I?" She haltingly states each word, "What was that you wanted to know?"

Stepping into sensitive territory, I work my stiff jaw around. I'm not the best at working out my words and navigating these sensitive places is a headache. Having Hipper as my sister made me realize there's many things to people I vaguely understood.

Finding my words, I don't beat around the bush.

"What happened before you were found?" I ask, unintentionally timid. "You know, your relationship with Graf Zeppelin have always ended awkwardly or poorly, and the few times I have been there, were not pretty."

Sighing, she taps for a solid minute. Strasser mulls over her words before hanging her head low, "We used to be very close. When we were brought into life, all we had was each other. Coming into being before the worst of the war. Our relative respite, a peaceful beginning. At that time, we were found by a kindly old man."

She pauses, breathing heavily with her eyes watering. Without saying anything, I hand her a handkerchief, which she uses to dab her cheeks. There is a pause in her words. This is heavy information, emotional even.

"I'm sorry," I muttered quietly, "If the information is, painful, then we don't have to continue-"

"No, you won, and I keep my promises," She responds furiously. Feeling her determination, I reluctantly sat back down, "To spare you the details, our last conversation with each other was, to put it bluntly, explosive."

"We…we got into an argument, it went from a minor seething disagreement to name calling. And I don't remember what she called me, yet it made me snap at her. It ended with me calling her a coward, with her slapping me in response. We have never spoken to one another since then. Sadly, that is the reason why I was so surprised to see her at the port. I didn't mean-"

"You didn't mean to act like she doesn't care about you, which she clearly does," I finish for her, she hiccups a few tears as she sniffles, "Insinuating that you don't want to encounter her, which you know how personally she takes gestures or insults," I guessed for her. Widening her eyes, Strasser slumps messily in her chair.

"I hate to make this worse for you," I started, cupping my hands, "You also avoided her all day too and the evening before, am I wrong?"

"…No, you're correct."

I lightly bite my lips together. Unsure of what to say and the same can be said for what to do. Thinking about this situation made me think back to all my relationships. My family from before the Crimson Axis. The three men who found me and watched over me in their little lighthouse, gave me one precious gift before I left my peaceful life there. Finally, knowing what I can say, the only thing that I can offer is advice.

"Talk to her then."

She lifted her head, "Hmm?"

"Graf Zeppelin prefers to be direct," I explained, "It's the only way to really solve this."

Strasser closes her eyes, folding her arms under her breasts. Rocking back and forth in her chair for a moment, she sighs and shakes her head.

"Fine, I guess I'll have to try."

"No, you will, either tonight or tomorrow," I repeat bluntly, making her wince, "Look, I don't know if this needs to be said. It's making everyone uncomfortable."

She didn't like my response, "Ulterior motives then."

"No," I defend myself, holding my hands up, "I have sisters too. Half maybe. The details are weird. Only three of my sisters really saw combat and one of them died to humanity's worst weapon. Tallinn is torn between her homeland and the country that took her, helping her family and her other family. Then there's Mainz and I."

I stop, waiting to see her reaction. She's listening, a good sign and it seems the weight I measured out is on point. Strasser needs one more push to get her through that door.

"I only want what's best for you." I begin rambling, "I'm not good with dealing with this. Deep down, I know I'm a ship that could've been. I think I can emphasize with both you and Zeppelin - we have a lot to prove to this world and I want to take my time to do it. There's nuances to all of this that require more, empathetic hearts, so to say."

Drama was never my forte in handling on this base. It was a field that the girls took care of that I gladly allowed them too. I rarely ever get involved unless it includes a certain agitated sibling, or a sentient rigging run amok. However, I'm also aware of the girls' trauma and pain.

"…We all understand, in our own little ways."

"Yes." Strasser rises from her chair. Wiping more strands of tears from her face with her sleeves,

"Tonight. I will talk to her. I have to."

I watch her head towards the door. Rebirthed determination stopping for a few seconds.

"Uh, about the game."

"It's fine," I shake my head, lazily waving a hand for her to shoo, "You have a sister that needs you."

Swiftly disappearing out of view, I can only shake my head. Can't believe that worked.

I wonder if Eugen is keeping the bar open...

It's late.

Rays of moonlight break through the cracks between my window shades. My first concern is the throbbing headache. It would be a lie to say that I woke up from a restful nap. If that were the case, I would be more irritated by the knocking on the door. I know who it is.

Everyone has their own. Eugen with her rhythmic, playfully annoying, five knocks. Z23 would be polite and informative, give a two knock quick succession. Then Strasser. Her distinct three knuckles against wood stood out. Methodic, mimicking a hastened ticking of a clock.

The gall on this woman.

"Graf? Are you there?"

I lean against the door of my bedroom. Listening to the figure behind it. I knew she's there. She knows I'm here. But I refuse to say anything to her.

"Graf? I don't have much time to speak but can I at least say something to you?"

Typical. Don't have time. I know she doesn't have time. The one who keeps a schedule. Weser may be the one for lacking initiative, at least she didn't obsess over her lack of ambition. My sister on the other hand. She never changed.

"I know you're behind the door. Could you please open up?"

Now you beg. Of course. Pity isn't in my vocabulary, and neither is sympathy. Especially for this woman.

"Sister?"

"Leave."

I finally gave in. Irritation overcomes my willingness to stay quiet. Weary others listening on this conversation. Rumors were never a concern, but if they reached a certain officer…

He must be disappointed in me. Crying on his shoulder for comfort. Depressing. Against it all, a foreign thought entered my head. What happens if he thinks I can't handle my own sibling? What happens if he's forced to come out here and comfort this sad excuse of an aircraft carrier.

This cannot stand.

I press my ear against the door. Ceasing in her efforts piqued my interest. There, I can hear it. Her breaths. She's trying, and maybe failing, to find her words.

"Say your piece," I state firmly, as bored, and uninterested as I can, "Then leave."

Her sighs came through the door and taps her wrist. Probably one of her many watches she obtained throughout the years. Who knows how many more she found on her assignment elsewhere?

I wait. Still keeping my ear pressed. I become aware of my own anticipation. Breathing through my nose. Hoping to convey my impatience.

Before I can demand for her to speak, I'm surprised by the sudden soft tone.

"I'm sorry."

Palpable silence follows. I lean against the door. Slowing giving in to the weakness in my knees. Sitting myself onto the floor. Still keeping my ear to the door.

"I-I know…I know, I never made time for-for…you."

"When we came into this world. Together. And to that man. He showed me things I never thought we get to experience. Joy in the little things, the taste of delicious food, and many other wonders. I was so enamored by what I could experience, I never stopped to consider that time could have been better spent with you."

The old man. That's what we called him. Or what he wanted us to call him. Not everyone that brought us into existence were part of the military infrastructure. This, frail human, was fishing in the open waters when he found our cubes. Beyond my own understanding, he cared for us before the navy knew of our existence.

He came from a trade that dealt with tinkering. Toys, clocks, little trinkets. Her even mentioning him brought back the memory of the old man's warm smile. How he would always try to cheer me up with silly jokes and aircraft puns. This pit forms in my stomach. These memories.

"Then the sickness came. I didn't understand. It didn't make sense to me how weak and feeble a human can be. Lesser beings compared to us powerful ships. And yet, I never thought of him that way. He always cared for us. Taught us about the world, showed us how to have joy."

More painful memories flood back. Times spent along the shores learning our riggings. Showing us how operate our planes. He was a pilot in his younger years, military or civilian he never said. I never cared.

Best of all these moments, these pieces of a faded time. I remember fondly of when he brought us to the zoos to watch the various animals after our practices. Rewarding us with warm meals and exciting entertainment. They were memories. Beautiful ones.

I touched my face. I'm smiling? No. There's nothing to be happy about.

Pain overtakes my heart. When the news came, I couldn't believe it. A disease came to him. One that was never cured. I didn't understand. Medicine has come to such a point, that any illness could have been eradicated. I tried, begged any professional. No one had an answer. No doctor, no medical expert, and no medicine helped. I tried, I tried to find someone. Even failing to find support in those so-called holy places.

Then, then.

"He just withered away." Strasser chocks on her own words, "I…I-I couldn't stand watching him die."

No. No. No.

"All those times spent in the hospital. Standing by him."

Stop it. Please.

"Sitting at his bed side. The life draining from his body. It was all written on his face."

Please stop talking.

"I did everything I could. When he couldn't move from his bed. I simply couldn't leave his side. I did anything. Bring him his favorite books. His intricate clocks. His unfinished projects."

I don't. I don't want to remem-

"Why weren't you there, sister?"

"Shut up!"

Taken by my emotions, I quickly unlatch the locks and slam open my door.

There she is. Standing there. The twin tailed haired sibling of mine.

"Shut up! Just shut up!"

I lodge a finger at her chest. Vision blurry with tears.

"You're right! Okay, verdammt ! You were right! I was a coward. I couldn't watch him die like that. He…he was the light in my life! He made me feel like I mattered. Even after everything I've been through. His warmth, his smile! His kindness! To see him stop, so weak…that strength in him fade. It hurt! I couldn't handle it."

The sobbing is coming. Strength gone. Unable to look Strasser in the face. I just kept my eyes shut to stop the tears.

"Y-you. You. You are right. Okay? To call me a coward. I-I sh-should have, have been there."

I was prepared for her to leave. Walk away like she did the last time we 'discussed' this. Leaving me in my own rut. Months of hollowness were spent dealing with these cold feelings.

Awash in my own hole, I fail to notice an arm wrap around me. Pulling me in tightly. Strasser is…embracing me.

"I'm here, Zeppy. I'm here."

Surrounding me is a foreign feeling. Soft, fuzzy. Nothing like the uniform she wears. Seeing her clothes, I recognize the wool sweater. A gift from the old man, the clock maker. Choking back my tears, smelling a trace of his odor. Faint oak mixed with the distant comfort of a burning wood. He always loved sitting by the fireplace late into the night.

I say nothing. Strasser pulls me into my room. Gently closing the door behind us.

There is nothing that needs to be said. Only the tears from built up grief and loneliness.

For once in a long time, I genuinely felt hopeful. For what? I did not understand.