Iowa's heels clicked together as she offered a crisp salute to the seated woman,a resounding "ma'am" echoing throughout the room from the contagious grin on her smiling face.
Looking up from her paperwork, Commander Andrews offered a tired smile in return. "I can see you're in a good mood." She mused before offering a dismissing hand to the greeting, "I'd tell you you didn't need to salute, but honestly i think at this point all of you girls just salute based on whether you want to or not at the moment."
Iowa's smile took on a sheepish look and she offered a noncommittal shrug. "Sometimes it feels right."
"Still, I'm glad you have your sister back, I'd certainly like to meet her when she up." Admiral announced, "shuffling a stack of papers, what little we've been able to report on her is already causing quite a stir."
"I'm not sure I follow your logic," Iowa muttered, her grin fading, "is there an issue with having more ships and I and anyone who knew her can vouch for her determination and fighting spirit."
The Commander sighed, drawing her pen to her mouth in consideration, "not an issue as a problem. But her return means that the Admiralty can no longer ignore your potential contribution to the war effort. After all, it's easy to justify keeping a single ship out of the fight when doctrine doesn't fit, it's harder to stow away a fleet." Noticing Iowa was still standing, the woman gestured towards a chair, "take a seat if you'd like."
Iowa shook her head as she claimed the proffered chair, " but we're just the two of us, we're not a fleet and if we're half as outdated as my limited experience suggests there's not much room for us in this war."
"that has been the center of some debate." The Commander confirmed, opening a manilla folder and flipping through several documents with a thoughtful expression "it has been for quite some time now actually, in several circles."
Iowa raised an eyebrow, a bemused expression on her face.
"We may have a position in a squadron for you." She segwayed, flipping through more papers in her envelope before finally selecting a single group of pages. "both you and your sister are without doubt the-" Commander Andrews hesitated, a briefly embarrassed look flashing over her face while she searched for more diplomatic word choice, "-the ships furthest along in timeframe to appear. However you're certainly not the only ones who find themselves out of place".
Iowa let out a healthy and genuine laugh, as some of the tension dropped and her good spirit returned, "that's the nicest way I've ever been told 'you're extremely old'." She replied after the laughter waned and her smile faded to a more relaxed expression. "But why do I feel you're trying to butter me up for bad news."
The commander shuffled the stack of papers as she pondered a response. "I would be lying if I said there were no likely challenges with this assignment, however I would be lying if I said it's something I think you can't handle, I can't force you to take the assignment, but I genuinely think it's in your best interest."
The warship's mood darkened, "I'm being transferred from Oregon aren't I." Iowa asked suddenly, drawing a surprised look from the human officer.
"No, I wouldn't ask you to leave her so shortly after she arrived." Andrews assuaged, "in fact neither of you are being transferred. We've taken an inspiration from the old British Monitors, essentially floating gun platforms."
Iowa adjusted herself into a more relaxed position and leaned back in the chair "I'm familiar with the concept."
"The Japanese and allied navies are a bit torn between close to port shipping and harbor defence and further offensive or defensive operations." Andrews explained, "Simply put, we'd like to get some shorter range, lower firepower ships, operating under our air net and keeping the shores safe, while further range ships handle further range operations."
"After all the hard time we gave Maine and her sisters about port defense." Iowa muttered, with a slight grin on her face. "Still, it seems sound enough for the pair of us if we've got air and picket support." She thought only briefly before she gave a curt nod. "I'm in."
The commander gave a glance down to the paperwork in her hand, causing Iowa's grin to fade slightly. "So back to those challenged you mentioned." She began, "why do I get the feeling they're bigger than you made them out to be?"
xXx
She leaned her head against the aircraft's window, staring into the cloud cover below with impassive expression.
"Excusez-moi Mon amie?" a voice called, barely registering through her self-reflection.
She made no reply, continuing to stare while deep in thoughts all her own.
"Désolé, j'ai un question." The voice asked again.
She sighed, leaning back in her seat and shutting her eyes, doing her best to hide her feelings behind English impassiveness, it felt appropriate, even if no one was watching.
"Est-ce que vous êtes bien?" The voice asked again, breaking through finally as the woman realized she was in fact being watched. She spun around, quicker than she would have like and betraying her surprise at the voice's sudden interruption.
The voice, however broke its expression of friendly concern far more dramatically and let out an undignified squeak of fright at the sudden movement. The friendly faced French Woman behind it that had so delicately attempted to interrupt the muser's thoughts was clearly caught off guard, her bright eyes went going wide with shock.
The French Woman's surprise turned to embarrassment as her face reddened at the outburst. "Desole. Vous effarouchaient-moi" she admitted quietly, twirling her short Auburn hair in embarrassment.
The seated woman gave the newcomer a confused look.
"J'avais faim, je n'avais pas le temps manger avant le voyage", the French Woman admitted, pointing in the general direction of her counterpart, "Vous avez finir votre sandwich?".
"I'm sorry, my French is a bit rusty, haven't had a chance to use it since the war." The British woman admitted in a polite accent, "could you say it a bit slower?" she brought her hand to her chin in thought, trying to piece the sentence over in French.
The interloper however interrupted her again, her face breaking out into childish delight, "oh you are English!" She excitedly proclaimed, "so sorry! I could not tell beneath your blanket."
"What were you asking me?" the English Woman intoned through a very English smile of polite annoyance, though the French Woman seemed completely unphased or just ignorant of the 'annoyance' half of her expression
"I um-" the French Woman began, expression of embarrassment returning. That she still had her hand held up allowed the English Woman the opportunity to trace a path between a French index finger and a sandwich seated neatly upon her own tray table in front of her presumably by the stewardess. A growl from the standee's stomach affirmed the request.
"Be my guest," the English Woman politely affirmed, regretting the decision as soon as her bubbly compatriot decided to use the offer to take the seat next to her, despite the near total vacancy of the rest of the airline.
"Thank you so much!" The newcomer announced in a light and mirthful French accent, reaching over to pluck the meal from the extended tray table. "I slept too late and skipped breakfast."
The English Woman made no comment, instead returning to her important business of leaning her head on the window and staring at clouds, allowing her to return to her thoughts but building a silence that caused her companion to shuffle the sandwich uncomfortably as the pause lengthened.
The French Woman peered around the English Woman's head to get a view through the window. "Do you like the view?" She asked curiously, taking another bite of the borrowed meal.
The English Woman sighed and laid back in her seat. "It's moderately better than the view of the seat in front of me." She grumbled, avoiding the French Woman's gaze in hopes of returning to her solitude.
"I think it's wonderful!" The newcomer replied, holding her sandwich to her chest and staring into the clouds with a wistful expression "Flying is a beautiful thing, no? Though it is more enjoyable when one can feel the wind on their hair and has the controls underfoot."
She sighed, placing one hand under her chin as she continued to stare.
"I can't say I can relate, Battleships don't have many flight hours." The English Woman proclaimed, laying back into her chair and closing her eyes as if to sleep and thus signal and end to the conversation.
"Oh, but just because you are a battleship does not mean you cannot fly," she laughed lightly "I am no more or less,-" she paused, mulling over her grammar, "is the word aerodynamic?" She questioned, before giving herself an affirming nod.
The battleship said nothing, instead choosing to feign sleep. Her French companion shifted nervously as the pause deepend again, "So what brings you to Japan?" The French Woman asked suddenly brightening up after the question. "Are you be reassigned? Maybe we are in the same division!" her light but unmistakably French accent rising in excitement at the prospect.
The battleship shot up in alarm, startling the Frenchwoman again, though with less dramatic results, "bloody hell." The English Woman muttered under her breath, thinking her orders over, before letting out a relieved sigh. "I'm afraid my station is with a pair of yank battleship's, no aircraft carrier was mentioned." she announced with false regret.
The carrier, instead of being rebuffed, grew excited again in expression. "I had similar orders!" She decried in an energetic tone, "I am looking forward to serving together."
Hope stolen, the Battleship laid back again pulling the airline supplied blanket up over her again, "it should be splendid," she uttered, dry tone empty of the building frustration, "however I should like to rest before we land, apologies Miss-"
"Béarn," the carrier responded, in light French, "and the apologies are mine, I did not mean to disturb your rest. I had some marines accompanying me who found some British compatriots to chat and play cards with, I chatted with them for some time but all of them were very insistent that you were lonely and needed someone to chat with." her brow furrowed in deep thought, "I think now they were deceiving me."
The battleship sighed, silently offering dark curses in the directions of her security detachment. "It's quite alright, no harm." she mused, adjusting the blanket.
"Uh-before you sleep, I am embarrassed, but I don't know your name." Béarn muttered.
"It's quite alright, I didn't offer. Dreadnought, HMS Dreadnought to be exact." the battleship replied, before laying back to sleep.