Mighty Eagle, Calm Nest

by xT-Zealot

With Enterprise suffering from a crisis of identity brought on by her battles with the Crimson Axis and visions of a dark reality, Belfast has chosen to take some liberties to bring Eagle Union's ace to London to try and restore her humanity that had been smothered by duty. Meanwhile, the overseers of this timeline consider its continued worth and what they can extract from it.

9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: This was the first chapter to break the 30k word count. And, unfortunately for me, there would be quite a few more that would repeat that feat.

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Belfast had expected a change in the morning. Though she wanted to believe that she had successfully allayed enough of Enterprise's fears that she would be able to get her needed sleep, it was a short-term solution meant to patch up the immediate problem. The long-term effects, and those problems that they would entail, were what she was concerned about seeing in the morning.

Sadly, she wasn't disappointed.

Her own internal clock having been set to the second, she woke up to the same early hour even with the events that occurred last night. She rose and went about her preparations as efficiently as ever: washing, dressing, and then making her bed. It was her own schedule that she adhered to to the point that she had timed and dialed in her own preparations to coincide with the next turn of the hour which would be when she would cross over to Enterprise's room. It was a procedure that she had never strayed from.

Getting into Enterprise's territory was where there came variations. Most of the days so far involved her walking in on Enterprise when she was still sleeping, although the recent ones had the carrier being roused by the cruiser's entrance into her room rather than when Belfast enlisted aid from the morning sun with the opening of the balcony shades. A secret, guilty preference for Belfast was to have her lady remain in a state of slumber enough for her to get a passing glimpse of her peaceful features when she went to the window.

She had considered it a blessing when the greater percentage of the days that passed had involved Enterprise in untroubled sleep. Although she had teased about being disappointed in not hearing Enterprise talking in her sleep, in this situation she was pleased. The occasional catch of her sleepy utterance was 'cute' as Belfast had put it, but the Royal girl had recognized that it was another byproduct of her troubles and it being absent was another improvement to Enterprise's state.

On this morning, it had to be those reawakened troubles that had not only roused Enterprise but had her standing in front of the open door of her closet when Belfast walked in. The cruiser halted mid-step, long enough for Enterprise to face her, and then she switched her show of surprise to one of her usual amicable smiles that was followed by, "Good morning, Enterprise."

Enterprise stood there with a hand that, Belfast could guess, had remained on the closet door for far too long after opening. Reading body language was one of her many skills, and the way that Enterprise had turned and how her hand retracted an inch and then stopped, uncertain of its own actions, said how the carrier must've been standing in that spot for a while and Belfast's appearance had startled her back to her senses. Now she was conflicted about whether she should be hiding something that Belfast wouldn't have any way of knowing about, getting her to ask herself if it was needed. Unknown to her, the cruiser could see and read it all.

Yes, Enterprise really was open and honest about everything.

"Morning, Belfast," she eventually returned before going back to decide on what she would wear.

Belfast continuing to execute the next part of the routine – the curtains – was with perfectly collected conduct that hid the perturbation that she felt. Not just with what she had been able to pick up in Enterprise's movements, but on her face and greeting. She was distracted. Troubled.

Additionally, Belfast had seen how Enterprise had been looking to a certain corner of the closet when she had entered.

It was unthinkable to even entertain the possibility that there would be no lasting effects of what happened, so seeing them was not what disturbed Belfast. The source of her distress was how she had made a prediction of what such a thing would do to Enterprise and the opening to it was almost exactly what she had viewed right then. Advancing on into the day and seeing her predictions progress even further was a trial that she had to endure.

When Enterprise disappeared into the bathroom to take her shower, Belfast dedicated herself to the small kitchen that had seen daily use. Cooking was as second nature to her as the rest of her plethora of skills, the mental library of recipes that she possessed vast and the decades of practice of prepping each one making each procedure deeply ingrained muscle memory on par with her combat skills. Her confident handling of a frying pan was at the same level of her control of her rigging: temperature control to raise and maintain the appropriate heat, the timing and size of the portions of ingredients that she would introduce, the manipulation of the pan to spread, mix, and flip them, and the tremendous experience that had honed her judgment of what would create the perfect dish such as appearance, texture, and flavor that would cater to the individual's taste that she had thoroughly established.

Enterprise remained a work in progress in that regard, the carrier's previous diet of coffee and rations having led to an impoverished sense of taste. It had been a benefit in its own right, her consumption of Belfast's meals having been done with a forced indifference that she had stubbornly attempted to employ at first, but the empty plates that were the result of each one spoke plenty of how agreeable they apparently were to her. Belfast had been pleasantly entertained by it, the feeling growing when the harsh lines of Enterprise's previously severe expressions had gradually relaxed whenever she was introduced to a new fare or one that she had been exposed to previously but possessed a different taste brought on by the introduction of a different seasoning or method of how Belfast had cooked it. The head of the Maid Corps already had a better sense of what Enterprise preferred, and their time spent here further cultivated those preferences: a reliable favoring of pepper, fruits mixed with her sweets, a preference for her meats to be on the well side, etc. Her objective nowadays was to refine her accuracy while also monitoring how Enterprise's mood would influence her taste so that Belfast could prepare an appropriate course to meet her desires depending on the situation.

It was from these estimates that Belfast added two additional shakes of pepper to the ace's eggs, selected strawberry jam for her toast, and cooked the bacon to a crispier texture. She considered coffee but selected tea that was lighter on the sugar. Coffee, with Enterprise's choices having remained centered around the likes of the Eagle Union military brands that were strong in flavor and high in caffeine stimulation, would be a harmful combination here.

During the preparation of breakfast, Belfast listened to the sound of the shower spray. Between the hissing of the heated pan and the clinking collection of tableware, she was able to make it out behind the bathroom door…and how it continued even as she was putting the finishing touches on breakfast.

This was another deviation that she had foreseen, and she could picture Enterprise standing beneath the showerhead, lost in thought, which resulted in a delay to her departure from the shower that Belfast patiently waited through. She put away a few of the cooking materials but left something like the pan for later with the awareness of what it would look like if Enterprise walked out and saw such a sign of her lateness.

These tiny details were important. Her attention to them had created a reputation of her being a perfectionist within the Royal Navy, something she was aware of but never sought to deny or correct. It had served her well though, not only in her acquisition of the title of head maid but also in her teachings of her maidly subordinates. There was additional motivation for them to learn the mannerisms and protocols that she adhered to, but that kind of pressure was something that Belfast could use. Much like the heat of the stove, their expectations would be raised by the reputation surrounding her, which she then can lower through praise and gentle guidance that could set them on a level that she would have them carry out their duties as expected, while also obtaining the wisdom and accomplishments that came from noticing and acting on such subtleties, inspiring them.

It was due to how such nuances translated well between their services as maids and that of intelligence agents. A tiny discrepancy in a report or a minor tic of a subject could lead to plentiful and very valuable information that wanted to remain hidden if acted upon while at the same time recognizing and integrating to the normality of the areas or targets they were to survey could lead to successful infiltration and reconnaissance. In the realm of intelligence gathering, an emotionally induced twitch or the oversight of a single crate of cargo on a manifest could open a path that, when an agent successfully slips through, can lead to a wealth of information as had been the case of the Maid Corps' discovery of the Orochi within the Sakura Empire's port and the black cubes that were being used for its construction.

Acting as maids to their allies was just as helpful as acting as agents were detrimental to their enemies. Perfectly straightened and clean bed sheets, an equivalently prepared table with preferred dishes, all balanced between a regular, consistent schedule maintained an environment that would keep their charges in a measure of contentment. What was created was a refuge of peaceful routine with its small blisses to be found while the tempest of war continued to swirl off the coast. As long as that sanctuary was maintained, the individual who took shelter in it could weather any storm.

The war with the Sirens and the Crimson Axis has proven to be a long and intense one, and Belfast had witnessed many a weary soul who would come under her care. The best she could do was attune herself to their needs, provide for them, and remain vigilant for the imperfections that could disturb their peace, no matter how slight they may be. Those were her battles, her enemies that she honed her skills to face off against, with the victories she acquired being the physical and mental wellbeing of her ladies and gentlemen.

That was where her fulfillment – and her happiness – was.

The sprinkling of the shower was suddenly cut off, Belfast using that as her cue to gather up and set the silverware to their appropriate positions around the plates of food. She was counting the seconds in her head as she set the knives aside the forks and judged it to be too soon when the door to the bathroom opened and out stepped Enterprise.

She hadn't dried herself off properly. Her damp hair hung around her face and shoulders, wet locks sticking to her clothes and cheeks. She brushed them back, the maneuver done with an absent-mindedness mirrored on her face when she glanced towards the kitchen.

The weapon that Belfast considered appropriate to wield here was to smile kindly as she acquired the teapot and cup, "Breakfast is ready, Enterprise."

Hearing her name brought her back a little, but the carrier restricted her response to a wordless nod before taking her seat.

If she saw this as a battle, then Belfast considered herself to be under assault while watching Enterprise eat. The carrier scooped up her eggs with movements that were automatic, her face unmoved when she ate the pepper-flaked yolk or bit into the crispy bacon. The way she chased it all down with the cup of tea, her expression still giving away nothing, kept up the appearance that Enterprise was just going through the motions with no reaction to any tasteful stimuli.

Belfast could decipher what Enterprise had to be distracted by. The peaceful refuge had been breached, the conflict that had been left behind having found a way in in the form of an enemy rooted to her worst nightmares. Though it had been fended off, the gap left behind could not be so easily fixed despite Belfast's efforts, leaving a view of the tumult that was waiting for Enterprise. Or, quite possibly, was coming for her now that it had been proven that she wasn't as safe as she – or Belfast – had believed.

Throughout the morning Enterprise had that distant look affixed to her face, unable to look away from the disquieting sight.

This was not the first time that Belfast had witnessed this, nor the second. The day that would lead to the battle against Orochi had coincided with what Belfast had recognized as the internal crisis that had been welling up within Enterprise. After the Mirror Sea, after her collapse in her dormitory, she had that same look on her face when she uttered the words that Belfast never wanted to hear from her again.

"Without the ability to fight, I am worthless."

It had taken all of Belfast's training and self-control to prop up that smile before she had taken Enterprise's tie and dragged her out of her dorm room and away from her negative thinking.

Such a forceful means wasn't going to be appropriate here – not that it had been appropriate then, but it had been an action that she had deemed necessary despite her own raging emotion that had led her to performing it. Fortunately, it wasn't needed as she had been able to guide Enterprise out of the hotel room and onto the streets of London, intending to reestablish what they had before.

Unfortunately, it was a short-lived victory.

"…Belfast?"

Enterprise had fallen back to a position behind Belfast rather than at her side, another blow that Belfast had to endure. When the cruiser rounded to her, she saw Enterprise having stopped and was currently looking off to the side, staring but not staring at the crowded streets and buildings. "Yes?"

Her astuteness to the silent communication of their human bodies had her registering the rigidness of Enterprise's neck, the tightness of her cheek and brow. They were the signs of someone who wanted but could not face another, the shame of which being transmitted from these contractions of skin and muscle.

"Could we…not do this today?" Enterprise asked.

This…was something else that Belfast had predicted, but in a way that made it a possibility that, if it came to pass, would let her know just how far back Enterprise had been sent. Being presented with that indicator had her on the verge of performing a hasty action – to jerk forward and pull Enterprise away from where she was straying and set her back on the path that had been so beneficial to her.

But her training and cooler head overrode the unprofessional impulse. Enterprise's emotional scars had been inflamed by her aggravated trauma, leaving them sensitive. Belfast had to take care in her handling, knowing that she could do plenty more harm than good if she did not treat this with the delicacy that was required.

So as much as it pained her, she had to concede today's match, doing so with a soft smile and softer words. "Of course. We have been going out nonstop, so a break is certainly due."

The easing of the physical tension betrayed the relief that Enterprise did not wish to have dominating her features when she faced Belfast, something she was partially successful in thanks to the guilt that fought for space. "Thank you. I'm just not really feeling in the mood today."

"Quite understandable," Belfast assured. "There's always tomorrow."

That facial stiffness reasserted itself over Enterprise and her gaze slid to the side. "Yeah, that's right…"

Londoners passed around and between them, they and the sounds of the city normal to Belfast and what she treasured as the epitome of what she and other shipgirls worked for. The peace of humanity that was maintained by them, where mankind could flourish and advance despite the constant dangers of war. In return, there was a place for shipgirls in it as well. Belfast had wanted Enterprise to see and learn that.

But she hadn't accepted it yet, and last night's episode had severely damaged the progress there as well. She had been settling in, becoming familiar with what had at first disoriented and made her uncomfortable. However, she hadn't found that balance – that coexistence between this and her life of war. And with how strongly the latter had interfered, it had disrupted and had her retreating from the former.

As a result, Belfast was disheartened to see how Enterprise, surrounded by such liveliness, instead appeared very much alone in this crowd.

However, there wasn't any solace for Enterprise to find in that existence of hers that had been framed by war no matter how much she wrapped herself in it, both figuratively and literally when Belfast walked into her room the next morning, finding her in front of the closet again.

Except, this time, she had decided to retrieve her uniform. She had left her coat and naval cap, but Belfast recognized the folded bundle that was her shirt and skirt instantly.

"An interesting choice," Belfast commented, the light, humored delivery very much at odds with the heavy weightiness that she was feeling and wanted to pull her short grin down into something else. "Although I won't object, I thought you didn't want to stand out."

Enterprise's feet shifted, the stance she made vaguely defensive. "I'm only wearing this. That should be fine." There was hesitation, then she seemed to shore herself up for something when she added, "I don't really want to go out today, anyway."

"You spent half of yesterday here," Belfast calmly pointed out. "It isn't good to spend too much time indoors."

"We've spent far more outdoors," Enterprise fought back, doing so in a manner that was alike to her current posture. She shrugged, the motion made in a way that she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince Belfast of something. "What's wrong with spending a full day here?"

Because then there was the possibility that this one day would lead into another, and then another. Belfast knew that and Enterprise had to as well. Rather than call that out, Belfast bowed, it registering the second before she did so of how it wasn't just Enterprise who was reverting to their more dutiful personas when presented with adversity. "If that is what you wish."

When she rose from it, she caught what could've been the barest sign of a grimace from Enterprise at being the recipient to the accommodating servitude before the carrier made her way to the shower.

That, at least, was a good sign. Last time, Enterprise had been harsher in renouncing these efforts of appealing to her humanity when she had been placed under the stress of such unusual occurrences against the Sakura Empire. To display such a minor hint of regret as she did just now, and to leave open a chance for another day, meant that she wasn't completely uncompromising. The time here had done something to her, and it was keeping her from closing herself off to it.

It was due to Belfast identifying a persistent opening that she would let Enterprise have her way for now. Patience was what she would have to exert here, with a mind for timing.

So it was that much of the day ended up being spent with Enterprise on the balcony of her hotel room. Belfast would deliver her meals out there on the short table that was provided, and what the carrier would pick at, more interested in staring plaintively out over the urban sprawl.

Doing so in her uniform, Belfast could continue making educated guesses of what she was contemplating. Her earlier assumptions remained what she was certain to be accurate: Enterprise, in response to the attacks made against her, was going on the defensive. She was arming herself in what limited ways she could, trying to prepare for any future incursions against her now that the threat had been made real, and formulating plans on how she could fight back.

She was following her old playbook, reasserting tightly wound management over her life and her actions. However, as had been made plain earlier, not only was it a detrimental plan of action when Enterprise had relied on it for too long, at this point it was so badly outdated that there was no chance for success. It was, as Belfast had described it, a self-defeating strategy.

She was sure that Enterprise knew it. As the Eagle ace went through her options of how she could fight, the nature of her foe and her own emotional and psychological impairments were obstacles she couldn't ignore. And no matter how much she examined them, her old ways of confronting them would be of no help to her.

"Belfast?"

Enterprise had called out to her while Belfast had crossed near the balcony door. Other than taking Enterprise's dirty dishes when they were done, she had busied herself with menial tasks: remaking her bed, washing the dishes, taking inventory of their supplies, reorganizing the toiletries in the bathroom – anything that she could organize or clean up. As with any action she took, Belfast had multiple reasons to do so: keeping herself distracted and useful was one, but she was mainly doing it for Enterprise's benefit. While the carrier remained on the balcony in inaction, Belfast's activities would be small nudges to subtly guide her towards options of what was available and what she could be doing.

So it was with a flutter of hope that Belfast stepped out onto the balcony. "You called, Enterprise?"

A guarded expression had come over Enterprise. "There still hasn't been any news from Gateway or any other outposts?"

Belfast shook her head, deciding that a business-like countenance was necessary to meet Enterprise's demands. "None that warrant any undue concern."

Enterprise visibly mulled it over, dipping her chin while her gaze became unfocused before she raised it again. "Really? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing," Belfast repeated. "Siren presence had remained at negligible levels even before hostilities with Iron Blood broke out and as of this morning there has been no reportable breaches of either borders. A convoy that had arrived two days ago had attested to no encounters or sightings of Iron Blood vessels during their voyage. The North Sea remains as objectively calm as it can be in this current situation."

The cruiser, as promised, had been keeping tabs on the military going-ons of the Royal Navy. To her own relief and gratefulness to the factions that were officially at war with each other, there had been no explosive incidents on either side or right at the borders of their territories. Any conflicts that ranged further on to the likes of Africa she was not as informed about, leaving her with the assumption that there was no significant increase in hostilities there either. Whether there was anything deeper that all this could signify between Royal Navy and Iron Blood, Belfast not being currently placed within the circle of the Royal Family made her ignorant of them. Thus, she was left with exactly what she told Enterprise.

As for the carrier, she didn't seem quite ready to believe it but, in the end, she made a slight nod. "…I see." She paused, then, while orienting herself back to London, murmured, "Thank you."

Despite how others may interpret the interaction, Belfast considered it to be a minor victory when she resumed her duties. As she deduced, Enterprise was struggling to uncover signs of how she could implement her seasoned way of confronting a typical enemy. Without them, credibility was another factor that would weaken in response. The strategy – and her existence that was based on it - of a problem being a battle that she could solve by winning it would become increasingly apparent as obsolete.

As human history harshly presented, those who remained unbending with their strategies that were no longer viable in the ever-changing warfront were inevitably destroyed.

For Enterprise, her struggle was not on the open seas but an internal crisis of identity – of the soul. After the battle with Orochi, she had been devastated by it to such an extreme that her only method of survival had been resorting to a failsafe that humans instinctively triggered in the wake of something so traumatic: to forget about it. While the memories were repressed, her mind and body developed a condition to prevent her from being harmed in such a way again – to cripple her whenever she would veer too close to what had been responsible for scarring her.

As painful as those protective measures were, they could very well be the only things that were keeping Enterprise intact. And their purpose was to make sure she stayed that way until she could properly recover from what had ravaged her.

But the sole way that Enterprise knew of was directly linked to what had harmed her in the first place - her life of ceaseless war -, and the time she had to find a different path and follow it to what she wanted was dwindling. Not just with their time spent here, but how those protective measures were being besieged by another.

Luckily, she had become aware of such a path. She had been preparing to travel down it, but an outside force was attempting to divert her from it. Though it would initially appear as if it had been successful, Belfast could see throughout the day how Enterprise looked out from the balcony. Rather than that same look that she had after Orochi – a defeated, lost woman who saw no meaning to life, much less her own -, she was slowly being convinced that there was something, somewhere, in the city around her and those who inhabited it that could assist her in finding what she wanted.

She just needed a little convincing. A little push.

And Belfast took it upon herself to be the one to administer it.

It was a gamble where she chose to wait until the morning after to go through with it. The decision relied heavily on the uncertain odds of whether Enterprise would be assaulted again, and the entire day before had been her weighing the pros and cons of risking it with the scales constantly tipping between one side and the other. If Enterprise did, then it would be harder, but Belfast was fairly confident that the arguments that she silently practiced while completing her chores would be able to compensate for it. There was no guarantee, and depending on the intensity of such an attack, she may fail. If that was to come to pass…then in desperation she may have to toss professionalism out the window. That line had been getting blurry enough as it is…

But if Enterprise didn't suffer through another one, then Belfast considered it all but certain that she would be able to convince her. She didn't the night after, and one of the reasons Belfast chose to let Enterprise do what she wanted was to limit the potential of one. It was made entirely of guesswork but based on her observations and from what little Enterprise had said, she could surmise that the worst of her visions had occurred when Enterprise had been making the most progress with herself.

If Belfast was to at least believe that whoever was attacking Enterprise was in fact another conscious, intelligent entity who was limited in her interactions, then she could at least form a theory that that other shipgirl had been so incensed of how Enterprise had been developing that she had used all her power available to strike at her. If it was made to appear that she had succeeded, that she had set Enterprise so far back, then she would not make another attack so soon. If that was the case, Belfast would delay executing her plan until the very last moment and rely on the confidence that Enterprise was strong enough to last until then.

Nonetheless, the night that followed was a difficult one to get through for Belfast. She didn't get much sleep, lying awake and on alert for the smallest sound that would have her up and running to Enterprise's room if she became engaged in a nightmare. It was a sacrifice she could normally bear with little trouble thanks to her days that commonly involved waiting on hand and foot to the Royal Family which would be occasionally punctuated by missions of infiltration and reconnaissance – both of which she demanded nothing but perfection from herself. Such a combination could be just as trying as any pitched battle.

But this restlessness that kept her awake and on edge was something that she hadn't felt in what was within the far reaches of distant memories. That kind of recollection that went back to before she had become acclimated to surviving deep behind enemy lines for an extended amount of time, where support was scant and detection the longer she stayed a very real and growing danger. That same realm of time where she had decided that she would master every recipe, memorize every herb, and perform every fold and smooth every crease there was for any piece of fabric until it was second nature in order to prove herself worthy to acquire the title of head maid.

It was with such anxiousness of a first mission and a test for such a coveted station that Belfast rose and set about her preparations, even earlier than before.

To witness the joy of those she served and have them blessed with the elegance that could be found even in the most vicious of the world's conflicts was where she found her fulfillment and her happiness.

So what would it mean for her if she managed to do the same to a woman who needed it more than any who had come before, and who she so deeply admired?

And what would it mean for Belfast if she failed?

It was with that question in her mind and the red envelope in her hand that Belfast stood in the hallway that linked their rooms. With her head bowed towards the door that separated her and Enterprise, she waited and listened with eyes closed. After a length of time that she didn't bother to keep track of, Belfast heard the sliding of the sheets that were pushed away, the undulations of a mattress beneath a rolling body that sat upon the edge, waiting, and then rising with the opening of the closet door following.

Opening her eyes and lifting her head, Belfast seized the door and pushed it open.

Enterprise's head snapped towards her entrance. If she had awoken with another excuse in mind and was prepared to deliver it, it seemed that Belfast had undercut that as well as anything else that Enterprise may've thought about, going by the surprise that was visible when she saw the cruiser.

Smiling, Belfast pinched her skirt and dropped into a curtsy. "Another pleasant morning to you, Enterprise."

Enterprise didn't respond in kind, too busy visually confirming that Belfast was wearing what she was plainly presenting: her maid uniform, in all its white and blue and frilly glory with the broken chain of her collar dipping to the valley of her cleavage when she lowered her head.

"Belfast?" she eventually asked, the name attributed with her confusion of the sight.

The curving of her lips didn't waver, Belfast maintaining it for the few steps it took to reach Enterprise where she held out the red envelope out towards her.

Enterprise regarded it with the same confusion, but the shining gold of the embroidery had her identifying it a moment later. "Isn't this the envelope from before?"

She does remember, Belfast thought. "It's the one that was given to me along with our reservations."

"What is it?"

Belfast brought it an inch closer, tempering her tone with a playful quality that she had come to enjoy using on the serious ace. "Read it and find out."

The suspicion that came over Enterprise did so in a way that was reactive – a learned behavior she had come to respond with whenever Belfast became coy. Belfast even picked up some tension unwinding from around the carrier in this light-hearted exchange that had become natural in their relationship. Natural enough to be comforting. A good sign.

It convinced Enterprise to take possession of the envelope. With the seal removed, there was nothing to delay her from taking out the note and unfolding it to read the glittering lettering that was to be found.

Belfast kept her smile, but watched closely as Enterprise read it, her eyes moving back and forth to read through each line. On occasion they would pause, and Belfast could make it out when Enterprise was going back to reread either the previous lines or random portions to be sure about what was printed. Even when she did, Belfast saw the unsure lines that disrupted the smooth expanse of her forehead.

Finally, Enterprise pulled away from the letter, appearing incredulous. "This is an invitation to a party?"

"A banquet," Belfast replied. "A celebration that's to take place at the Royal Palace."

"Celebration?"

"For our victories in the Pacific that was made possible by the unified alliance of Azur Lane, specifically the forces of Eagle Union and Royal Navy."

Belfast observed the pain that flitted about Enterprise's expression before it tightened up, locking down what she saw of their 'victories'. She glanced down at the invitation again. "The date is…today?"

"Tonight, at six o'clock. This was an event planned in advance by King George V; Wales's sister, and a highly placed member in Queen Elizabeth's court. I assume that once she heard about the supply run, she had decided to contribute with some traditional Royal Navy flair as I'm sure you've come to expect from us." A quip, one that had little effect on Enterprise. "Everyone's invited: from the shipgirls that had journeyed with us along with human nobles. I expect it to be quite the crowd."

Enterprise went over the date and time thrice. "Why am I hearing about this now?"

Belfast tilted her head. "If you're worried about the time, I believe there's plenty that remains to prepare for it."

Enterprise shot back up to the cruiser, an assortment of emotions now fighting for supremacy. "What makes you- no." The spike of anger that briefly ascended was brought down, descending to the irritation that stuck with her when she shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

No, it wasn't, and Belfast expected the displeasure that she became a target of.

"You had this and knew about it for a week," Enterprise accused. "Why are you bringing it up now?" She considered something, then asked, "Was this another part of your plan?"

The mean-spirited suspicion, so close to being an allegation that could paint Belfast as some kind of villainous schemer, did hurt. Not so much due to the direct anger - that she could stand against -, but the implication that everything that had occurred throughout this whole stay was some sort of nefarious orchestration. That was the kind of indirect hit that struck deeper, but Belfast kept the damage and her reaction to it internal.

She did dispel her smile, knowing that it was no longer appropriate. "Believe it or not, I had no idea about this either. I learned of it later that night, when I was able to sit down and read it once we were both settled in."

That did quell the heat somewhat, Enterprise reconsidering the harshness in her questioning. "So why now?" she asked again in a shorter form that prioritized an answer rather than assigning blame.

Belfast inwardly sighed at this reprieve and offered Enterprise a fair explanation. "The reason why I didn't mention it sooner is linked to why we didn't stay at the base: that it could present unwanted pressure and complications. After you gave your consent, I judged it counterproductive to make you aware of this the next day when the entire point had been to separate you from anything related to your duties and Azur Lane. Its later date made it further irrelevant for the time being."

Enterprise received the explanation in silence, the heat dwindling further. That was the most important thing about all this: her consent. No matter what Belfast may plan or implement, she could never let Enterprise feel that any of this was not her choice. By having herself choose, she would automatically be more receptive to all that would be introduced to her – both in the decision and what would come because of it. And in cases like this, where something unexpected was to arise, Enterprise may be displeased but as long as it was reasoned to being to what she had consented. she would not reject it as harshly.

Which created the opportunity for acceptance if Belfast could convince her of it by first getting by with what questions and worries she would reasonably have.

"I had intended to bring it up earlier," Belfast said, getting right to what she knew would be the heart of the matter. "Yesterday or the day before, but…"

She left it hanging, not needing to finish when she saw the depressing drop of Enterprise's shoulders. "I don't think this is much better."

"It isn't," Belfast admitted.

"Then you'll understand if I don't plan on going."

An immediate attempt at shutting it down by using the suddenness of the event, one that had an easy counter that Belfast employed. "What do you plan to do today? The same as yesterday?"

Enterprise gave her a small glare. "You know why I'm doing this."

A vague statement, the reliance on sympathy and the seriousness of what was being alluded to make up for an actual answer that Enterprise didn't have. "Actually, I don't," Belfast responded, challenging it. "What is that you are doing by sitting outside all day?"

The carrier became offended – and irritated. "What will going to a party that was suddenly dropped on me do?"

Deflection – answering a question that she couldn't answer with a question of her own. Though in some situations it was better to redirect back to the original question than to be led by the other, more often in her career Belfast found it to be more effective to confront it if it would demonstrate better credibility to her side of the discussion. "Quite a bit."

Enterprise narrowed her eyes, pre-emptively doubting that the cruiser had enough to overcome her own flimsy reasoning.

Belfast stared directly at them. "We will be making our return to the joint base in two days. You have been absent from your comrades for some time, so I believe it to be prudent that you reacquaint yourself with them. A setting such as this would be favorable, with an atmosphere that could promote a relaxing transition in the wake of our return to duty. I'm sure they would be relieved to see you again."

A twitch of concession, showing that Belfast had aimed well with that last, before Enterprise said, "Let's just head back to base. I could reacquaint with them well enough there."

"That won't do. You are still in the process of your recovery."

Enterprise blinked, incredulous. "My recovery?"

"Indeed, and I believe this celebration will prove to be quite beneficial, especially in light of what happened the other night."

Enterprise gaped at her. "You think something like that can be fixed with a party?"

Belfast could see what was going on behind the shocked look: that Enterprise was thinking that Belfast was somehow belittling what she had went through that night, what she shared in confidence with the her, and, by extension, everything that was linked to it. It was because it was absolutely not what Belfast intended and what she didn't want Enterprise to mistake it to be that her hand shot up. "Wait!"

The movement of her hand was on purpose, meant as a theatric emphasis to intercede on where she saw Enterprise's thoughts heading to. The speed that it used to accomplish it, however, was more than what Belfast anticipated both in how shortly it was moving so soon after she thought it and how fast the actual execution was.

And though she meant to raise her voice, she hadn't meant it to go as high as it ended up being. Not loud but…louder than it should've been.

It got Enterprise's attention, and her own, jarring her a little and delaying the next part she had planned for the second she needed in order to be sure that it would be delivered appropriately. "Please do not misunderstand me. I would never make light of any of your recent experiences. It's because of what you shared with me that has led me to being confident as to how else this event may aid you."

Enterprise examined her carefully. "Okay."

Belfast lowered her hand, clasping it with the other so that they were both hanging at her front. A practiced pose meant for appearances but, in this case, to control any additional deviations to her conduct that may arise as she reestablished eye contact with Enterprise. "I want you to tell me something first. Do you believe that this has all been helping you, Enterprise?" When she saw her hesitate, she pressed, "Comparing to how you were before we arrived to now, do you believe that there had been improvements in your condition?"

Enterprise's sight glazed over, the carrier looking with her mind's eye to the last couple weeks. Belfast picked up hints of her struggle playing across her face – a twitch there, an uncertain curl elsewhere on that facial field. Even when she eventually answered, she didn't manage to put that struggle to rest.

"I thought there was," she said with niggling indecision. "The nightmares, the headaches…"

"You said they had been stopping and did before the museum."

"I thought they did," Enterprise reluctantly confirmed.

"Either they did, or they didn't," Belfast pressed. It would irritate Enterprise, but Belfast wanted her to admit it. It was important. "Was there a point where they stopped?"

"Fine, there was!" Enterprise returned with a foreseen snap. "For a couple days, maybe, but what does it matter?"

"It matters because it means that you were improving."

"Was I? Even if it looked like it, that night when I had that vision…" Enterprise placed a palm against the side of her head, but it wasn't accompanied by any obvious pain. It was a slow, unconscious motion made in expectance of something about to happen with that something having occurred enough times with enough force that the reaction to it had become instinctive.

Belfast made a correction: it was a motion made not with expectance but fear.

"Was I improving?" Enterprise asked, Belfast feeling like the question was for either of them. "Was I really? I did think I was, but you've seen me. I feel like I'm even worse off than I was before. When we started this, we thought that everything that had to do with that warship was over. But now I know that it isn't, that there's someone out there still, and I…really don't know. I don't know what to do or how I'm supposed to fight her."

Belfast had seen Enterprise, and she was seeing her now. With her still in her pajama shirt and shorts, she was as far away from that ace shipgirl as she had been those couple nights ago. Belfast felt the urge now as she did then: to cross over and take this woman in her arms. Embrace her. Alleviate the results of her harsh living with tender care.

She didn't go through with it this time. That night she had known of how much of a dire position Enterprise was in, her actions thereof warranted. For this, Belfast didn't consider it appropriate. That kind of peaceful surrender may actually not be helpful in supplying the fortitude and strength that Enterprise would need for not only this day but the ones afterwards.

Belfast did create a compromise though. Instead of embracing her, she reached up and took the carrier's hand that was against her head before gently guiding it down.

"No, you don't," she said when she saw Enterprise's questioning look. "Something you should consider is that this person may be someone who you can't fight in the way that you're used to. What has been done so far is anything but conventional, and I don't think staring out from the balcony will help you in thinking of a method to fight her."

Enterprise glanced down, but it wasn't their hands that she looked to as it was the invitation that was still in her possession. "You think this will?"

"It's a continuation of what you yourself admit to having been improving your condition. I cannot provide any certainties either of what you should do, but I do consider it suspect that this shipgirl you mention chose to appear after such a period of calm. Going further with what you have seen and learned about her, this banquet is everything that she and what was created by her is not. Unless you were able to come up with something while you were outside contemplating, this may be the one thing that can be considered as your way of fighting against her."

Enterprise was focused on the invitation, Belfast only able to imagine if the Eagle girl was in fact looking at the folded paper as a weapon that she could wield.

"If you want a shining example of what it is that you've been fighting for all this time, to see something real, then I cannot think of anything better than this."

Enterprise lingered on the invitation, a slow, audible exhale coming from her nose. "How are we going to get there?"

"There is transportation available," Belfast replied. "If you decide to go, I can call for it. You have time, although it would be preferable for you to decide before noon."

Enterprise retreated, her hand leaving Belfast's as she orientated towards the still open closet. The cruiser was about to make her departure towards the kitchen and give Enterprise space to think until she saw the carrier look to her again. More precisely, her maid attire.

"Does it matter what I choose to wear?" she asked, already reaching for a certain corner of the closet.

Belfast shook her head, needing to tame her lips to morph into a smile that was shorter than the one she wanted to make. "For the journey there, no. Dress in whatever you're comfortable with."

Enterprise didn't say anything else, but Belfast made the call soon after. It was picked up immediately and Enterprise was probably just stepping into the shower by the time Belfast confirmed the arrangement and hung up.

After that, there really wasn't much else to be done. Once breakfast was finished up, Enterprise decided to spend some more time out on the balcony with a look that was even more contemplative than the last. Save for some tea that Belfast decided to lay out for her, the Royal maid let her be until the phone in the room rang hours later when the clock ticked towards noon.

It was the front desk informing them that their transportation had arrived. After voicing a quick thanks, Belfast wandered out to the balcony where Enterprise hadn't moved an inch, the cup of tea at her side barely touched.

"Are you ready to depart, Enterprise?"

Enterprise sat there, immovable, before she eventually rose from the chair. She smoothed out the length of her greatcoat and tugged on the brim of her naval cap, using it as a barrier to keep from meeting Belfast's eye. "I guess so."

Belfast respected her want for the silence that filled the elevator when the two made their way down to the lobby. It was an obvious habit of Enterprise to retreat into herself during situations like these – one of the equally obvious results of her nature to keep others from being inconvenienced, even if she was the one who was troubled. Belfast liked to think she had made a bit of progress on that front, given what she had come to learn about her lady and some of those troubles, but there was no getting around to what Enterprise defaulted to, especially as it was Belfast who was responsible for this latest round of uncertainties. She would steal quick looks, but it was clear that Enterprise had shut everything out.

A limo like the one that first brought them to the hotel waited for them with the carrier ducking inside without a word to take a side for herself with Belfast taking the other. No words needed to be exchanged, the vehicle moving as soon as they were settled.

The timing kept them out of the city's normal rush hours, Belfast not expecting much in the way of traffic that would slow their journey to any significant amount. Even so, there remained a span of travel time that would inspire anyone to locate some sort of way to get it to pass by sooner.

For Belfast, it was to watch Enterprise.

The carrier champion was turned away from her, facing out the window with one cheek resting against a fist – something else that Belfast had become familiar with. She had expected Enterprise to take to her uniform, but although the argument could be made that Belfast had influenced her to do so with her decision to don her maid uniform, the truth was that Belfast had known that she would've taken to her uniform no matter what she had decided. Belfast wearing her regular ensemble was meant for Enterprise to feel less guilty and more comfortable about withdrawing to that security of hers.

Seeing her in full dress after a week of normal clothing, Belfast found it to be a disquieting reminder of how big this mantle was on Enterprise. If anything, it had gotten heavier, with the coat having slipped a little further from Enterprise's shoulders while her cap had sunk lower to swallow more of her head. Or was that due to Enterprise somehow getting smaller? While Belfast figured that Enterprise had begun drawing her uniform back out of the recesses for that sense of security, she wondered if the carrier really was as comfortable as she sought to be with wearing it again.

Belfast's gaze traveled down where Enterprise's one hand rested on the seat at her side. Her own fingers tingled, possessed with an itch that would be cured if she reached over and held that hand as she had done so earlier in the day and the moments before that, but chose to suffer through it instead.

It wasn't necessary, nor appropriate here. This was…enough.

---

Enterprise was a mess.

That was what she felt like, and it had taken the past two days for her to really understand that.

Watching London pass on by her, a disconnect was an extremely poor word to describe what it felt like with her and the city that she had been staying in. There was a word she knew of and though she wasn't too certain on the definition, the basic idea she had and the sound of it felt right enough for her to use it: dissonance.

There was a dissonance between her and London. A lack of resonance or harmony. Something like that.

If she had to describe it, it was like she and the city had suddenly been set to opposing wavelengths. Though she had seen London as less intimidating as New York thanks to its stouter buildings and historical architecture, the cramped characteristic she had noted and been getting used to was now amplifying this feeling of how she was being repulsed by it or vice versa. Her skin prickled, the construction of her human form wanting to shrink away from the surrounding urbanity but the fact that she was surrounded had it in a state of bristled resentment.

The foot and vehicular traffic, and the noises attributed to them, had changed from a chaotic but ordered consistency to a choppy inconsistency. It was not at a maddening level, but it contributing to the growing burden was enough for her to want to get away from it and being relieved when Belfast conceded to her request.

Not that what distance she tried to create helped much. While keeping away from the streets dampened the effects of this divergence, the general feeling persisted.

The carrier knew when it started: the morning after the latest vision. It hadn't begun as the disharmony that it was now, but she had felt perturbed when she awoke and found herself in the same bed with the same ceiling that she had been waking up to for the past week. She could still remember when the large space and rich furnishings had taken her aback when she first arrived here, but that was due to being introduced to an environment that was not her norm with her needing to adapt to it – something that she accomplished gradually.

The feeling that came was not the same as that. Rather than being presented with something unordinary and adapting to it, she had become disengaged from what had become ordinary and, instead of returning to a state of ease, was becoming more uneasy the more she saw of it. The bed that had become unusually large again, the pajamas that felt odd for her to be wearing, and the room itself where the spaciousness that accommodated such utilities to be found in the kitchen and bathroom had become daunting. The routine that had become her daily, rather than sorting herself back to her surroundings, instead empowered the feeling of being displaced until it had evolved into the repulsiveness that had her retreating to the balcony.

The smaller space did provide an amount of relief that she wanted to try and get her thoughts sorted out, but what dominated them was one that came to her as she stared out at the sight of London, as she listened to the activity below her, and even what little she heard from Belfast in that extravagant hotel room.

What am I doing here?

This was for her recovery. It was what she had been told and what she told herself, and it wasn't what she thought she could believe in anymore. A week of all of this and here she was now. Even here, in this limo, the space felt cramped and though traffic was light, she felt congested by the cityscape.

She felt like she had wasted her time, especially in light of this threat that had been making itself progressively known to her and she continuing on this experiment regardless until it had blatantly revealed itself to her.

What was all this for? How could any of what she experienced help with what she was sure was coming to confront her?

But when she asked herself what she could do to prepare, she found herself woefully lacking a suitable answer there as well. Gearing herself up for it, both in her mind and when she threw her uniform on, did little, because when she tuned herself to fighting, what awaited her was that seed of anxiety that was still embedded in her heart and the roots that had grown and ensnared her, their entanglement having remained tight.

With an experiment that felt pointless after all the time that was invested into it, but feeling for herself how impaired she still was, how could this mix of frustration and anxiety that she felt in response to a looming threat be called anything but a mess? Somehow, the two sides of war and peace had never felt as separate to Enterprise as they do right now. As they drifted further apart, and her trapped in the middle, repelled by both aspects of the world, it was like….

None of this is real.

The knuckles of the fist that Enterprise was leaning against tightened, pressing against her cheek where her teeth clenched together.

Why am I still doing this?

She thought she was referring to being here in London. But as the limo took a street that had it passing close along the Thames River, with Enterprise visually following the path that went eastwards towards the North Sea and the tribulations that were beyond, an unbidden modification of the question came to mind.

Why am I here?

A very frigid chill went down her spine, weakening the defiance in her fist and jaw.

It was an unruly, back-and-forth clash that had been playing out nonstop: she frustratingly renouncing her time here, frustration turning to anxiety when she attempted to strengthen herself with a resolve that she no longer had, leading it to all crumbling down, and Enterprise felt entirely lost and alone.

So why am I doing this right now?

Turning to the specifics of the here and now – in this limo, on her way to a destination -, did help her there. Thinking of what Belfast had said and being aware of her presence right next to her, it reminded Enterprise of what would keep the carrier from descending into complete despair in the face of her internal warring. Every time the clash within her threatened to become mutually assured destruction, memories would arise to forestall it.

They were of when she tried her new clothes for the first time with a similarly-dressed Belfast fussing over miniscule straightening, when she played that game with Cleveland and Montpelier and her competition with the latter, the sights she witnessed such as humans and shipgirls lounging around a park, her own awkward but plain interactions with humans, and other small snippets that ranged from her standing in the shade of the latest monument that Belfast wished for her to see to when she stood in front of that map of their galaxy.

When her foot had been over the edge, they would suddenly pull her back each time. They would be a break in the strife, a respite of warmth and pleasantness that would manage to break apart the stormy seas, and what Enterprise would feel reminded her of when she had been resting against a soothing softness that delicately held her.

Were such things really a weapon that she could use?

What made Enterprise speculate about it as she did when Belfast suggested it was due to what would happen when she was reminiscing with those warmer memories. Like a static-laced interruption, she would be pressed with those feelings of frustration again, setting her back to her current condition, and she would play the depressing game all over again until those memories would return just as she was about to lose it.

That interruption of forceful oppression felt very much like how her dreams would be twisted into dreadful visions: a separate, outside source trying to gain dominance over her. The same one that would occasionally whisper how everything around her was a lie.

Could this really be a way for Enterprise to fight back against her? While Enterprise would be relieved at being able to find a way to challenge the specter that haunted her, what she decided that she really wanted was not a means of attack but assurance.

She wanted something real. She wanted something that would let her know, once and for all, that amongst all the warring and struggling that took place on this planet and within herself, there was something truly worth to see it all to the end. That there was an end that she could grasp.

Enterprise had remained staring out at Thames throughout her dilemma, noting but not really observing the river traffic or the movements across the waters that were of another section of the city and its people going on like normal, same to how she was traveling around on this side. What garnered a modicum of attention was when she saw the occasional sight of a shipgirl gliding their way down the river. Still more susceptible to signs of her military life, especially here, it was natural for Enterprise to be drawn to the sight of a docked warship when she saw it.

Which was then followed by another. And another. And another.

It had been rare, but Enterprise had witnessed the presence of full-sized warships within Thames but they had been docked along the sides outside of the watery traffic lanes when shipgirls were conducting business whether at the Royal Academy or elsewhere inland. Understandable as, while the river could accommodate them, preference for space and as little interference as possible with normal traffic had shipgirls traveling exclusively in their compact riggings. Even then, the warships that Enterprise did see had been smaller cruisers and destroyers, not battleships or aircraft carriers as she then saw.

Enterprise lifted her head from its perch in order to get a better look. However, it soon proved that the carrier was coming up short to get the full scope of just what she was seeing – not just the number of ships that were there but where they were docked. Her first thought that it was a sort of inner-city base, but she was soon proven wrong there. It had her raising her body higher, her head twisting around, but still she couldn't take in the full expanse of everything.

It was a mass of land that protruded out from greater London, forming a peninsula that Thames was being forced to wrap around it. It was incised with waterways and small channels that had to have been dug up to provide suitable shelter for the flotilla that populated it. Nonetheless, a semblance of natural order was inspired by how the shores were oddly untouched. Enterprise could make out one or two small warehouses, but saw very few other port facilities, and what separated them were green pastures that would be unordinary at any normal military base; fields with stony paths, of which in between were hedges that separated colorful patches that Enterprise identified as flower gardens with wooden patio structures.

It was a scene better associated to the parklands that the carrier had visited, but Enterprise was startled by one extremely odd sight that she barely caught: a fenced off area, of which animals were galloping about. To Enterprise's amazement, they were horses, and next to the accompanying stables was the very recognizable ship body of a certain light carrier: Unicorn.

She recognized others such as two Illustrious-class aircraft carriers, cruisers that had to belong to the Town-class family or one of its subclasses, but there were other ships that she couldn't identify. Yet next to each of these vessels of war, the untouched greens of nature spread out beneath the shadows of their silhouettes and weapons.

Enterprise turned in her seat, a question on her lips, and found Belfast to have been admiring the scenery, going by her lean that gave her an adequate sightline to look past her. There was no hiding the longing on her features – the reverence that the maid was aiming outwards, free from her control. Enterprise had seen hints of it before upon their arrival to the Royal Isles, but how Belfast beheld the fields and docked ships was nothing like before.

Although she admitted as much to Belfast at not being able to relate to it, Enterprise understood what kind of face that the cruiser was making regardless: it was the face of someone who was looking at home.

"The Isle of Dogs."

It only occurred to Enterprise that she had been so distracted by the maid's look that she had failed to notice when she started speaking to her. "What?"

"The name for it," Belfast explained, gesturing out towards the peninsula. "Or that was what it was known as before. It had once been the center of trade with a budding yard for shipbuilding. Entire dock systems were created for those needs, until the Sirens arrived. It received the worst of the bombings, extensive destruction measured equally with the loss of life that occurred, which influenced the expansion and reconstruction plans that spread future dockyards and installations to the deeper waters. There had been little time for opportunities of what the fate of the Isle would be until later."

Looking back out the window, it was plain to Enterprise as to what had been done to it. "A dedicated space for shipgirls."

"A decision that had been put forth by the British Royal Family and came to pass with overwhelming support."

Enterprise was still finding a lack of true military installations despite the number of warships that were there. "Is this meant for defense? A base?"

"That's not the nature of it, though it goes without saying that this gathered force could easily fulfill such a defensive role if attacked. There are facilities further north, including research facilities that specialize in the study of Wisdom Cubes and construction of shipgirls. What you're seeing now are the private parklands and docks for the Royal Family and their subjects. The Docklands for what has now become the Isle of Docks."

The Docklands, Enterprise repeated. This was what Hornet was talking about.

And she had to admit, it was a sight to see. With them still driving, she was getting other peeks of what the peninsula provided. She did see what appeared to be a dedicated repair yard, but it would continue to surprise her with what she knew to be a golf course when she saw the sand traps and flagsticks.

Knowing firsthand the destructive capabilities of the Sirens, Enterprise could well imagine the devastation that had once enveloped the area and what there was no sign of now. What the space consisted of was what Enterprise had come to expect from London: a blend of what should be contrasting forces but what managed to fit in this city. Although now it was warships that were part of this park-like scenery, Enterprise reckoned that it was her time in the parks, inspecting the aged monuments, and the spotting of academies and the humanoid vessels known as shipgirls intermingling with this modest city that didn't make this as impossible to believe as it would've been to her over a week ago.

So it was that Enterprise felt…entranced by the Docklands. There were those warships with their cannons that could unleash such ferocious firepower, but they were at rest while the hulls floated on still, clear waters, sunlight shining on their armor. Green parklands instead of militarized docks surrounded them, all of which – when zoomed out – put even the steel behemoths of battleships as something not untypical with what Enterprise had established for peaceful London.

There was something nostalgic about this, but Enterprise didn't know why she felt that way. She had never been there before, and she couldn't think of anything that matched what she was seeing. Even so, looking upon this gathering of warships that were encircled by such a peaceful environment, Enterprise couldn't help but feel like it was touching a memory that was difficult for her to extract. It wasn't due to the memory being repressed or anything, but a hazy outline that was difficult for her to make out because of the distance of time.

Familiar gun turrets sporting twin fifteen-inch guns brought Enterprise's attention to the largest ship in the docks as well as the largest in the Royal Navy. However, it was not Hood's ship body as it was the one next to hers that garnered interest. It was another ship – a battleship – that had an impressive armament in the form of quadruple mounted fourteen-inchers that was just as recognizable. However, the only shipgirl who Enterprise had seen with such armaments in that configuration was Prince of Wales, and she should still be at the Azur Lane Joint Base.

Given the circumstances, Enterprise had a good idea as to who the owner of this example was. "King George is Wales's sister, right? What exactly is her position?" Even if Belfast had said something before, going by what she was coming to understand from Royal Navy customs, Enterprise assumed that the mysterious George would have to have some amount of authority if she was able to arrange for a banquet with Royal Navy personnel and their allies, with human aristocrats attending to boot.

"She prefers the title of Knight Commander," Belfast answered. It was a ranking that provided that more royal air to what the maid translated for the carrier. "Essentially, she is the second-in-command to Queen Elizabeth in terms of ranking."

The magnitude of what such power entailed stunned Enterprise, leaving her momentarily mute. "That much authority?"

Belfast smiled amusingly. "The King George V-class of battleships have come to be entrusted with assisting Her Majesty in marshaling the naval power of the Royal Navy as part of the Royal Knights. It was no coincidence that Wales had been assigned with overall command of the Azur Lane Joint Base when it was formed."

Royal Knights, Royal Maids, Royal Family. Before, such extravagant titles had been more theatrical to Enterprise than anything else – all a part of a game of pretending to make Royal Navy shipgirls appear and act human with such monarchial customs. She occasionally questioned about how much of it was really 'pretending' as she thought it to be but with this revelation… "I'm a little confused. When you refer to things like the Royal Family, what exactly do you mean by that? Are there two Royal Families? One comprised of humans and one of shipgirls?"

"Yes and no. It goes back a bit into the Siren War, where governing through a body such as the Parliament became difficult during such disorder that had never been seen before. Power shifted, congregating to a more limited number of individuals for decisive and effective action against the Sirens. This affected the role of the Prime Minister, obviously, but having served as popular cultural icons to the people, authority began to be restored in the British Royal Family when citizens turned to them for relief in this crisis. A renewal of the image of the monarchy you could say, which carried over in some of the reformations that the British Empire underwent to become the Royal Navy. This carried great weight later on, particularly when it came to deliberations of what place there was in society for shipgirls. The Royal Family put forth the motion to induct select members of shipgirls into nobility, a push – radical at the time, but proved very effective – that was made to grant an amount of legitimacy in the transition of shipgirls being placed in positions of military power that gradually became significant."

Enterprise turned to gawk at Belfast. "So Queen Elizabeth is actually a queen?"

"That's where the yes and no comes in. She was entrusted with overall ruling of the naval affairs of the Royal Navy, but she doesn't hold much in terms of political or legislative sway in the governing of the country or authority over other branches of the armed forces. Then there's the Admiralty that can overrule her decisions, but those instances have been rare. To directly answer your question though, she, George, and others are official members of the same Royal Family that had previously consisted of human nobility and, as such, are eligible to customs befitting of royalty such as indicting subjects into their direct service. Circumstances have occurred elsewhere as, what should be unsurprising, Illustrious has become a notable figure as a result of religious reformations. Close to a saint in certain systems of faith that sprung up after the arrival of the Sirens."

So Queen Elizabeth was, quite literally, a queen in name only if Enterprise was understanding right. However, her influence and running of naval affairs was as close to that of such a royal monarch, with her own court and council. Caught in the flow, Enterprise couldn't stop herself from, "So you're…?"

Belfast's pleasant expression didn't change, but Enterprise's instincts tingled dangerously to what she could only describe as a shadow descending over the maid's features, her smile turning brittle beneath it. "Miss Enterprise…"

A different kind of shiver went down Enterprise's spine at the hearing of 'Miss'. Though it may have something to do with hearing it again after so long, what really spooked her was how it was spoken.

"…Have you been doubting of the fact that I am an authentic maid under the noble service of Her Majesty this whole time?"

Enterprise very wisely cast her gaze elsewhere. "No. Of course not." She kept enough of Belfast to the corner of her eye, what little of her stilled friend she could see frightening to her.

"Good. Very good."

It was a stay of execution, and Enterprise would remember it. Out of all the new sides of the cruiser that she had seen, this was an example that she would never wish to encounter again. There was a hint of movement, a break in the motionless Belfast, and Enterprise considered it safe to speak. "In Eagle Union, we don't really have an arrangement like that with shipgirls holding such status."

"I see," Belfast said, letting Enterprise know that she was really off the hook. The cruiser stroked her chin thoughtfully. "From what I know of Eagle Union command structure, I suppose that is true. In some of the other factions there were clear stations of higher leadership for shipgirls such as Bismarck, Nagato, and Richelieu, but such positions are obscure in Eagle Union." She lifted a brow at Enterprise, waiting for a correction.

Enterprise didn't have one to give her. She was a member of Eagle Union, but she couldn't think of any of her colleagues who were in a league of the listed examples. Maybe there was a chance that she was merely ignorant with her disinterest in the inner workings of the higher command. She was given locations and assignments, she would go and complete them as intended, and as far as she knew such mobilization and command were largely overseen by human superiors that were carried down to the flagships of whatever task force she was assigned to with her, more often than not, being said flagship.

"I can't think of anyone," she finally admitted. Not wanting this to be seen as a failing of her nation, she added, "But I don't know anyone who really wants it either."

Belfast hummed, but in an odd way that Enterprise didn't know how to interpret. "Well, from what I've come to see from you Eagle girls, you seem to have inherited a disposition of being more carefree but at the same time possessing a preference to follow orders rather than give them."

"We just want to go in and get the job done," Enterprise replied.

"This I understand, and there's nothing wrong with that. I for one praise it. For how strict Eagle Union may appear when it comes to duty, the fact that such a ratio of shipgirls can express and indulge in such freedoms is commendable. There is no unified custom, hierarchy, or faith like in Royal Navy, Iron Blood, or Sakura Empire, but you all can achieve your own accord with each other, your duty, and what you want out of life." Belfast made a deliberate pause, then teased, "Well, most of you anyway."

Enterprise rolled her eyes but didn't muster up any real offence. This conversation, and the ease of them having it, was starting to make her feel better.

"Although…" Belfast dragged, entertaining something. "It begs to question of there being hidden potential within such modest members, particularly those who are held in higher regard. The number who are viewed in such light due to, shall we say, heroic actions they may've performed. They may not know how they can inspire those around them, and how naturally it becomes for others to follow them because of their feats and the examples they set."

Enterprise didn't really like where this was going, or how Belfast was looking at her as she said it. "What are you getting at?"

A tiny smirk appeared. "Oh, nothing at all."

Enterprise stared at Belfast, distrustful, but the cruiser wasn't inclined to explain herself any further. Instead, she backtracked.

"Going back to what we were saying, along with the induction of new members of Royal Navy sovereignty, there came an acquisition of land for them to use as they saw fit. The Docklands and the majority of the Isle of Docks is considered as royal grounds. This includes the establishment of a proper residence." She pointed back outside. "Which brings us to the Royal Palace."

---

There remained a good twenty minutes for them to reach their destination, the scenic route part of the process to get to a bridge to cross over Thames before they swung around to get to the Isle. Enterprise didn't mind because of the scenic part of the drive and her chatting with Belfast – a small return to how things had been before.

The vexatious sensitivity that she had been enduring had abated to an extent. She didn't feel as repulsed by the city as she had before, but that was in part due to what she had seen of the Docklands. It created a circumstance that wasn't ideal – the reason she could better tolerate the city being that she was heading to a location that was appealing to her -, but she reasoned that there may be something worthwhile in that.

It was not an escape even though she could admit to herself that it was what she had been thinking. The sight of the Docklands – the security that so many shipgirls represented, and the peace of the area – could objectively inspire a feeling of safety that Enterprise was not immune to given her situation. Nonetheless, it was not wholly safety that had her quietly urging their driver to get there sooner. The more she saw of the Docklands as they made their way around it, the more she believed that there was something that she could find that could help her – the 'real' that she was searching for.

That previous sense of nostalgia supplemented that. Although she still couldn't clear the haziness of the memory to make it something tangible, there was a sensation within her chest that was straining in the direction of the Isle. There was a yearning to get closer and gather a better picture of what she was trying to remember. That, Enterprise decided, gave her added incentive to see this through.

She had managed to catch a glimpse of the Royal Palace, but the distance and the angle that their direction of travel took them did not give her much in terms of a view. That changed twenty minutes later and, suffice to say, it had been nowhere near enough to convey its actual size.

There was a mile's separation between the royal grounds and the urbanity of London, the road taking them through it until they reached the iron gates that guarded the perimeter, decorated with the symbols of the Crown. The limo stopped there, their driver sliding down the window and reaching out to grab a wired phone from its holder beside the gate. A quick exchange of words took place that Enterprise couldn't hear through the divider, and then the phone was being returned at the same time that the gate opened, letting them through.

A lawn laid immediately beyond, uniformly trimmed like a carpet that was dotted with shrubs and an ornamental fountain. Then came the Royal Palace.

Enterprise thought she had gotten pretty informed about the architecture of the Royal Navy and that nothing could really surprise her anymore. From however many centuries ago to now, with Belfast giving her accompanying lessons of how the passing of many more centuries changed, adopted, or mixed differing styles from some other point of the globe that was used for the inspiration of whatever historical monument they would visit, she thought she saw it all.

She was mistaken in that regard.

She didn't think of it as much as an exaggeration that the Royal Palace had to be a kilometer in length, effectively blocking any sign of the gardens, courtyards, and the docks that she knew were behind it. Although the height was probably a whole level or two higher than the more common low-rises, the masonry that had been shaped into the collection of pillars, pilasters, arches, and columns that Enterprise had seen already made the whole structure feel so solid and imposing. An outdoor balcony ran across the entire length of the second floor and rather than any domed roofing, crenellations protruding from the top made the place appear exactly as it was: a fancy castle.

What naval bases needed gun emplacements and artillery batteries to accomplish, the Royal Palace managed to do with sculpted stone to create a picture of impenetrability. The feeling grew when the limo stopped and Enterprise stepped out. The width of the palace intimidated her the same way that the height of New York's skyscrapers did, but its stouter shape gave her the impression that it could weather a Siren barrage far better than those towers that would have Enterprise fearfully imagining what would happen if a single energy beam ever melted through the glass exterior and scythed through the supports. The rows of windows of the palace, while valid points of vulnerability, were at least surrounded by a more solid construction that promised to remain standing even if they were hit.

So while the face of the building was imposing, Enterprise could imagine how secure one could feel when housed inside. Going by the size, it could probably accommodate every shipgirl stationed at the joint base.

Belfast came to her side, the limo driving off, and Enterprise followed her lead when she began ascending the large staircase that led to the tall doors. Acting on a sudden thought, the carrier turned to watch their departing limo. Instead of leaving the grounds, the vehicle turned towards the palace when it reached that end, and the carrier witnessed it disappear. There had to be a built-in garage, but watching the tiny limo vanish into the building without a trace just added to the monumental size of it.

She and Belfast reached the solid wood of the double doors, but before they could knock or ring the bell, someone from inside unlocked and opened them. Enterprise saw the frilled edge of a white cloth at one shoulder when the doors were open but a crack and that was all she needed to expect the maid who revealed herself fully when they swung open.

There were minor differences to her uniform, Enterprise able to do a side-by-side comparison with Belfast next to her. The bodice and skirt black instead of Belfast's dark blue, the frilled headband not as flared out, and the lack of forearm armor exposed the thin and pale arms. Fleeting differences, but Enterprise knew her to be a Royal Maid and, more importantly, a shipgirl. As for the girl herself, her long hair was dark brown, done up in a pair of twintails with small red bows. What stood out the most were her pair of gray eyes that had an odd translucent quality which matched well with the ghostly paleness of her face.

The unknown maid was possessed of a poise that was schooled, and it broke immediately when she saw Belfast and her mouth hung ajar. "B-Belfast? Ye really are- ahem!" She cleared her throat suddenly, bringing a fist up. When she dropped it, she reasserted control, bowing in supplication to the head maid. "Welcome back, Belfast."

Belfast dipped her chin in turn, smiling. "It's good to see you, Glasgow, as it is to see you progressing with your training."

Enterprise caught the suspicion that briefly passed through, Glasgow unsure if she should be taking the compliment at face value. "Aye," she soon said, the carrier quickly wondering if such a word should be passing through the lips of a maid with such an accent. "I'm doing me best under me sister's instruction."

Belfast didn't seem to mind, still smiling good-naturedly. "I'm glad to hear it."

Glasgow glanced over at Enterprise, and the composure that she regained quickly collapsed again as she visibly started. "Oi, you're the Eagle lass- ahem!" She coughed again, louder this time, and her effort to put up a stronger front when she straightened had her sealing her eyes, refusing to let any other surprising sights get the best of her. "Ah, yes, I was informed that you would be arriving with a guest," she started over, even managing to purge most of her accent. She bowed again, this time holding it as she extended a hand deeper into the palace. "Would you like me to lead you?"

"No, that is quite alright," Belfast politely refused. "I know where to find her."

"Aye, of course you do. Then let me at least welcome you home, Belfast."

"Thank you very much, Glasgow. Although I will be delaying my return to duty for a little longer, it is good to be home." After a short bow of farewell, Belfast walked past her and continued on.

Enterprise soon followed but couldn't help but glance back at Glasgow. Though remaining bowed, the younger maid had turned her head just in time to catch Enterprise's eye, the carrier witnessing the unfiltered amazement that came her way.

"She was interesting," she commented once they were out of earshot.

"Glasgow's a recent recruit," Belfast revealed, but there was no admonishment. "There remains much for her to learn about decorum, but she is eager, and I welcome the change of pace she brings. She'll make a worthy addition to the Maid Corps yet."

Belfast was being honest, of that much Enterprise was sure, and had been during the short exchange with Glasgow. She'd even say that her friend was enthusiastic over the prospect of another junior joining the ranks of maids – a young one to be taught and grown into her role. Belfast hadn't given anything obvious away, but Enterprise just had a feeling about it.

Enterprise's boots thudded while Belfast's heels clicked upon the granite flooring of the main hall. In the center of it, a larger rendition of the Crown was fashioned with marble and Enterprise noticed when Belfast extended her stride to step over it rather than on it. The carrier respectfully did the same.

The interior furnishings of the palace didn't stray from Royal Navy standards, the difference between the palace and the academy of the joint base being of a more grandiose array – from the multiplication to the number of portraits of historic battles and golden chandeliers, to the addition of decorations that hadn't been able to fit in the latter such as a few suits of full knightly armor like what they had seen at the warfare exhibit, the plates even more impeccably pristine. The added space and liberties had let the original builders implement the palace's architectural styles to its interior as much they did to its exterior, the ceiling high and arched, supported by columns. To Enterprise's shock, a space opened up at one point to reveal an indoor flower garden, with manjuus dutifully watering the colorful array of flora.

Mindful of the scale of the building that she had been better able to see outside, trying to gauge what she could of the interior was a failing effort. Venturing down a single carpeted hallway that Belfast led her to wouldn't give her an iota of an idea of what the Royal Palace could hold, and she entertained the possibility that even if she spent the entire afternoon exploring the halls, she would still come up grossly short. An entire day at least to go through every room, and who knew what other surprises she would find in the process.

But Enterprise turned out to be relieved with that. The immensity of the inside, and the filling extravagance of its furnishings, did what the solid exterior had indicated: that she could feel secure here. The palace was insulating her from the rest of the world with its untainted splendor. She couldn't be sure of anything, obviously. Who knew what may occur to ruin it all as it had done to the city she had been previously enjoying, but as of right now she felt safe. She just needed it to last until she found whatever it was that she expected to find here.

If there was even anything for her to find here.

It was still early, but Enterprise did notice that save for Glasgow, they weren't running into anyone else.

"I suspect the bulk of the maids stationed here have been delegated to the kitchens and ballroom to finalize preparations," Belfast said when the ace brought it up. "Everyone else is likely doing the same with their own preparations in their respective rooms."

"Is the whole place taken care of by the Maid Corps?" Enterprise asked. If so, she had to wonder just how many members made up its ranks.

"The bulk of interior caretaking is overseen by them," Belfast responded, and Enterprise fancied that she may've been able to perceive the pride that might have expanded her chest by the tiniest of margins. "Although there is other hired assistance: caretakers for the grounds, engineers for maintenance – a mix of manjuus and humans."

The carrier eyed the hallways. "Still looks like quite a lot to take care of."

"There are moments such as days of celebration like this one, but the number of responsibilities is not as staggering as they had been in the past."

"How do you mean?"

"The Royal Palace acts as more than a place of leisure. It's a headquarters that allows the Royal Family to coordinate their operations within the North Sea and the rest of the world. Back in the day, leaders and representatives of the other European factions of Azur Lane commonly gathered here due to its location. Vittorio, Richelieu, Bismarck, and their entourages would be regularly accommodated by our staff. Their absence has made things a little less lively."

As was commonly the case, the last was made with heavier solemnity that Enterprise had come to expect from Belfast. It was something else that Enterprise still couldn't quite relate to as she had a wish to revisit how things had been with her sisters, but not much else – not with the unity of Azur Lane that she lacked for in personal experience.

But she could gain an idea. Thinking of the geographic locations of Vichya, Iron Blood, and Sardegna, and how this place had been the gathering hub for the great European whole they made, she could acquire a sense of tragedy of how the islands of the Royal Navy were now an enemy to all of them.

It made the strength that Belfast showed next, of how her spirit was restored and brightened within the center of her home in spite of such a dismal turnabout, something that Enterprise admired and envied. "But this remains a home for many, and even if they aren't the servants meant to maintain them, a portion of our usual residents have taken on hobbies and other means of enjoyment that contribute to it. One who I enlisted will do well to provide you with an appropriate dress for the party."

"Dress?" Enterprise reflexively looked down at her uniform. "I thought you said this would be fine."

"If you recall, I had said that it wouldn't matter what you wore for the journey here." The corner of her lip went upwards towards the twinkling humor in her eyes. "We'll be attending a party, and a party requires appropriate attire which we'll be attaining here."

'Here' being a door that appeared like every other door, but Belfast stopped in front of it with the confidence that it was the one they were meant to be at. She politely knocked on it.

Then, as she lowered her hand, she said to Enterprise, "I would like to take this moment to apologize in advance for what's about to happen."

Enterprise jerked over to Belfast who was refusing to look at her but was still possessed of that humored grin. "Huh?"

As soon as Belfast knocked there came the sound of rushing footsteps, and the door was flung open inwards with such force that Enterprise couldn't help but retreat a step from it and the loud voice that brightly chirped through the opened portal. "Yah-ho!"

What greeted the two was a smile that was as blindingly radiant as the curtain of golden hair, topped with shining olive wreaths. Rich blue eyes swept between them before they settled upon Belfast, and then the shipgirl squealed and leapt towards her, enfolding the cruiser in an energetic hug. "Belfast, so good to see you again!"

Enterprise recognized how Belfast braced for the impact the second before it came, the added weight she placed in her feet combining with the locking of her spine to keep her from rocking as far back on her heels as she definitely would've done had she not been sufficiently prepared. Since she did, she was able to shortly right herself and return the embrace, albeit with not as much enthusiasm. "Victorious, remaining in high spirits, I see."

There was a giggle and Victorious pulled back. She didn't separate from Belfast, her palms remaining latched to her shoulders. "You know it!" She then pouted, with Enterprise wondering how such a thing could be so thin that she could see the smile that remained behind it. "So what was the big idea, huh? I heard you were coming back and lo and behold, it's taken you this long to see me? No one makes toffee pudding like you do, and I had been looking forward to eating a ton with there being so little to do around here with the lull going on!"

"I'm afraid that I would have to refuse providing you with the amount you're fantasizing for the good of your health." Belfast patted the back of one of the hands that had her. "But I do apologize for not being around to serve in that capacity."

The thinly veiled smile ripped through its covering. "Well, it doesn't matter! We got this party going on tonight, and I made sure there would be plenty on the menu! And besides…" Victorious turned. "You brought something to make it up to me!"

Enterprise took another reflexive step back, something glinting in the bright eyes of the shipgirl but – from her point of view – it was a very ominous glint.

Belfast used the moment to smoothly duck out of Victorious's grasp. "I would politely ask that you don't refer to her as a 'something'." Recovering to her straightened posture, Belfast regarded the Eagle carrier. "Enterprise, I would like to introduce you to Victorious, the second ship of the Illustrious - class of aircraft carriers."

Enterprise was becoming acquainted with a lot of sister ships, but this was the first time where she had to ask herself if it was wise to do so here. If there had been a sister ship who she would've been worried about meeting, she would've never suspected it to be the sibling of the gentle and caring Illustrious.

Thinking that she may be judging Victorious too soon, Enterprise chose to give her a chance. "Nice to-"

"Oh, I know all about you!"

Enterprise managed to keep herself from ceding another step, but she did lean very far back in response to the space that suddenly vanished between her and Victorious.

"You have no idea as to how excited I was when I heard it was you who Belfast was bringing!" A hand flew up to Victorious's chin, rubbing with fervent thought as she began circling around Enterprise. "The heroic champion of Eagle Union! I've seen the pictures and heard all that you've done for my sister and everyone else in the Pacific!"

Enterprise was turning her head around to follow Victorious, feeling like it'd be a big mistake to let her get in her blind spot. It didn't stop her from nearly jumping when there suddenly came a tug on the back of her coat, halting at her toes.

Victorious tsked, the immortal smile disappearing. "If only you were dressed as beautifully as you fight heroically." It reappeared in greater magnitude if that was all possible. "But that's why Belfast is giving you to me! Just watch, we're going to make you fabulous!"

"Giving me…?" Enterprise went to Belfast.

Belfast smiled with a visible apology. "I need to get ready too, after all. While I make my own preparations, I leave you in the very capable hands of Victorious."

A hand dropped on Enterprise's shoulder. When she looked to the source, she found that very dangerous glint again within the smiling face of Victorious.

"Uh...Belfast?"

The head maid performed a gesture of prayer with her one hand, her eyes twinkling again. "I will be praying for you."

With the strength that could only be exhibited from another aircraft carrier, Victorious yanked Enterprise towards the open door.

"Belfast!"

---

How quickly Enterprise was reassessing the aforementioned safety and securement that she believed she had within the Royal Palace, the energetic slamming of Victorious's door and the follow-up locking of it sealing her in a place that she did not feel at ease in with a dubious companion who she feared the true intentions of.

"Right this way, right this way!" Victorious chirped happily, nearly flying to a side of the room with her slightly raised arms and outstretched fingers loosely imitating the wings of a kind of plane. A loud and hyperactive plane.

Enterprise glanced at the closed door, entertaining a possibility of escape but judged the time needed to play with the lock to be too great. The humanoid plane that was gliding away could swiftly come around and dive after her with the focus of a bomber to seize her again. With a quiet exhale of resignation, she followed the instruction.

This is Illustrious's sister, huh?

The shipgirl was wearing a white gown but that was about all that the siblings shared and even that article of clothing showed the vast difference in personality. The cloth used was thinner, which made the long skirt fly and dance easier to Victorious's movements. It was parted at the front, revealing the full expanse of her legs and the leggings that clothed them, her black underwear, and smooth stomach. Gold embroidery and chains bound it around her chest, covering it, but there remained a generous amount of skin exposed that managed to shine with the same intensity as the gold decorations of metal and cloth that she wore.

The room was about what Enterprise expected: white walls with a bright red carpet, with soft chairs and a sofa clothed in gold. The nearby bed had pristine white sheets of glittering embroidery made up of the two colors, with hanging curtains that reflected the sunlight that shone into the room. Yet no matter what brilliance the room possessed, Victorious managed to stand out as the brightest one in here. When she did pass under the sun's rays, it wasn't the sun that got her to gleam but she who amplified it when it touched her.

The rack of dresses that she went to was right at the bedroom windows, so Enterprise had to squint her eyes a little when she wandered over. Victorious was humming a loud tune, the metallic sliding and clacking of hangers powered with the bottomless energy that she was possessed of.

Pausing, Victorious rotated her head around and waved impatiently. "Hurry up! Strip, strip!"

Enterprise hesitated at the command even as she touched her coat. Her views had remained consistent concerning issues of privacy, and of course she'd need to get undressed in order to be dressed, so that wasn't making her hesitant. What was making her do so was her wondering if it was really a good idea to do so at the behest of Victorious.

In the end, Enterprise slid off her coat and tossed it aside along with her hat and tie on the nearby sofa, her fingers unbuttoning the front of her shirt. She didn't even finish with the last of the buttons before hands came from behind and groped her chest.

"Oho!"

Enterprise threw her arm backwards, her elbow hitting something solid.

"GEH!"

The hands released her, and Enterprise got clear as she spun around to face her assailant. She was left bewildered when she saw Victorious standing there, her hands covering her nose.

"What's the big idea!?" Victorious cried.

Enterprise looked back at the rack of dresses, then Victorious. How did she…?

Victorious removed her hands from her nose, checked to make sure there wasn't any blood, and then stomped her foot while glaring at Enterprise. "How am I supposed to dress you if I don't get your measurements?"

The Royal carrier's comically angry face with puffed cheeks and reddened nose was too pure, Enterprise unable to find any villainy in it that could justify her defensive action. "Uh...I'm sorry," she awkwardly apologized. "You surprised me."

…She still felt like something was wrong with her being the one at fault though.

Victorious kept glaring at her for a little longer until she downgraded to an expression that was merely miffed. "Sheesh, you'd think I was attacking you or something. Now let me see!"

Enterprise couldn't refrain from moving with a bit of caution as she resumed undoing the few remaining buttons of her shirt. While she did that, Victorious reapproached her, the other carrier acting with her own caution as she hovered outside what would be the limit to Enterprise's striking range. When Enterprise divested herself of her shirt, Victorious moved in.

"Let's see here…" Armed with a measuring tape that she produced from who knows where, Victorious wound it around Enterprise's chest. "Oh, just as I thought!"

And she didn't start with that because…? Enterprise thought but didn't voice as Victorious conducted the rest of her examination.

It got really hard to remain still as Victorious didn't seem to be settled with the results produced from her measuring tool. While keeping it wound tight around Enterprise's stomach, Victorious poked and prodded at her abdomen.

"Is this necessary?" she couldn't help but ask when she felt a fingertip graze along a solid abdominal.

"It's all part of the process, the process!" Victorious insisted, her good cheer having apparently returned to her. "An artist can't be satisfied with measurements! To create the perfect piece, they need to establish every inch of what they're working with! And I am an artist!"

"…I see," Enterprise said uncertainly.

The tape cleared her stomach. "Skirt!"

"…Right." Enterprise sent her skirt to the rest of the pile, the tape immediately coming for her hips.

"Don't worry, I'm getting a very good picture!"

Enterprise hid a grimace as the tape was followed by more pokes and dryly remarked, "Glad to hear it."

That served to invigorate Victorious. "Oh, but I am! I see and feel all the strength, but there's such a lovely woman I'm seeing!"

Enterprise didn't know how to take that. Her human form was another result of the construction process involved with Wisdom Cubes – something that had been made for her to do her duty. She had never looked at it as more than that. "…Thanks?"

"I should be thanking you! These curves and chest, but all this muscle!" Victorious passed another palm over her stomach. "Such a healthy balance!"

Enterprise barely prevented herself from sucking in her middle. "Is it really that much of a big deal?" she asked. The – she believed – undue attention to her body was making her feel a little uncomfortable.

"Of course it is! You ever seen Illustrious try and pick up something from the floor that she dropped? She can't! Not with that massive bust and itty-bitty waist. She has to ask someone else or she'd fall flat!"

Enterprise pictured the lead ship in her head and had to relent when even she could see the physical imbalance. She immediately felt bad about thinking that way about Illustrious but…she could see how it was a little funny when she tried to simulate the situation that Victorious presented.

Victorious's head rose and she immediately grinned. "Yeah, you see it too!" Giggling, she admitted, "I like to play a prank now and again with her about that." She stood up to her full height, her measurements done, and made a quick pose. "You and me don't have to worry about that though!"

It was too difficult for Enterprise to not notice how Victorious's chest bounced with the sudden movement. She was unsure how much of it was due to Victiorious's outfit or if she was also a tad…abnormal in size. She was, in Enterprise's objectively speaking mind, a bit more balanced than Illustrious though.

She was suddenly slapped with an unexpected feeling that had her hastily averting her gaze from Victorious in response to it. The move, small as it was, nonetheless had her seeking an explanation for it because of the feeling that instigated it – the feeling that said that it was wrong for her to look at the other carrier like that. Enterprise didn't know what the crime was that it was saying she was committing as she had only been making an observation of Victorious's proportions. She couldn't see how she should be feeling like she was betraying someone by doing that.

Neither could she determine why it was Belfast who she felt she was betraying.

Meanwhile, Victorious had reached over and retrieved Enterprise's discarded coat. She held it spread out in front of her, looking at the interior lining and giving it a few shakes. Unlike her gown, the heavier coat refused to be as easily manipulated into flamboyant motion.

"Oh, geez, this really is no good," Victorious commented. "I see the image that you were going for here, but could you at least get this fitted right?"

Image…? Enterprise frowned. "I wasn't trying to make any kind of image." Her coat was her coat. She didn't see what Victorious was getting at...although hadn't Belfast said something about her coat and its fitting before?

"Excellent!" Victorious tossed the coat over her shoulder, sending it back to the sofa. "Cause all I hear is that I've got a blank canvas to work with all I want!" Even more exuberated, she bounded back over to the dressing rack.

Victorious was quickly proving to be difficult to track – years ahead of the swiftest jet fighter. After only seconds at the rack, she had grabbed and twirled around with a selected dress in her grasp: a dress of a characteristic Royal Navy shade of red. With one eye closed and tongue sticking out, she peered closely between it and the Eagle ace before shaking her head. "Nope, red is definitely not your color. I figured, but best to confirm it now." She twirled again to the racking. "Lucky for you, I don't find black as basic and dreary as I used to. I actually find it to be for beauties who don't need color to enhance their looks. Gotta be used to bring out more of that cool mystery, the strong and heroic, but still going appealingly well with that feminine charm. I have a few creations here that should work somewhere…"

Creations…? Enterprise had been focusing on the rack, watching with some amazement as to how fast Victorious was flipping through them. There had to be dozens of them, and Enterprise took another look around the room, remembering spotting something that had nearly been lost in the brilliant décor of the room.

There was a sewing machine on top of a desk, a short pile of fabrics and rolls of thread next to it in varying states of fullness. A small decorative chest was there, open, and Enterprise saw the assortment of needles and other sewing supplies at the ready, with empty spaces being of clear use.

Enterprise looked back at Victorious with more interest. "Did you make all those clothes?"

"Yeah-huh!" Without looking, engrossed in her search, Victorious proudly espoused, "I said I was an artist!" She extracted a black dress and set it aside before diving back in.

Enterprise stared at the dress made from a delicate fabric that shone in the light. Satin? Silk? Was that the material? Believing that she had seen something like that on the sewing desk, Enterprise marveled at the skill that had to be involved. She had never given it any thought before during her clothes shopping as to what kind of effort went into a shirt or pants, but seeing the signs and the product potentially made from it had her thinking about it now.

Namely, she wondered how a shipgirl would come to possess such a hobby. "What made you decide you wanted to make clothes?"

"I was fine with wearing them at first," the other carrier started explaining. "I liked searching and buying things that could look beautiful on me. But after a while I thought, 'wow, all this work to find the right outfit, why don't I just use that time to make the perfect outfits myself'? Who else would know real beauty other than me, right?"

"It was that easy?"

"Oh, don't be silly! Of course it wasn't!" Victorious extracted another black dress, and after retrieving the initial one she pulled out, she held them both in order to perform another visual examination. "No one can make something a fabulous as these on a whim, can they?"

Enterprise didn't think she was of a position to describe something like these specimens to be 'fabulous', but she was no less impressed by how much of an accomplishment they were.

Apparently one of the specimens wasn't good enough as Victorious ended up putting the first dress away in obvious rejection while keeping the second one set aside. "And hey, you know, other than making clothes for myself, I could make clothes for others, too! I actually got recommended to help with a couple of your girls in getting dresses for the big banquet tonight! There was this one positively adorable one…uh…Cleveland, her name was? I did a little special something for her! Now she's a girl who can turn heads with that tomboy thing she's got going, and I made sure that she'll be turning plenty tonight!"

Cleveland? Enterprise had been thinking about her other friend and, she had to admit, the comment did intrigue her as to what Victorious may've done. She made a note to keep a lookout for the cruiser.

"As for you…" Victorious stopped at another article, a white one, looked back at Enterprise, and then the clothing before, with another shake of her head, sliding it aside. "You're not worthy of just a dress! Need a bit more flair…more finery…" She gasped. "Oh, I know!"

Peering away from the rack, she darted towards a closet and quickly opened it. A wall of…materials spread itself out before her, so abundant that Enterprise had trouble separating one hat from another, the scarves with long gloves, and the gold and silver ornaments with…feathers?

"This, this, and…oh, definitely this," Victorious muttered, the collection of a pair of gloves followed by the jingling of some kind of jewelry.

Enterprise admitted to being intimidated at what she was seeing being pulled with the knowledge that it would be for her. "I don't think all that is necessary."

"It's all in the name of beauty, my dear!"

"I think just a dress would be enough."

"Why settle for enough when you can be gorgeous?"

Enterprise shuffled uncomfortably. "I don't need to be gorgeous." It was such an odd word for her to say, and embarrassing when she was the recipient of it.

A very unladylike flapping of the lips was the response. "You would say that. Don't worry, you just leave it all to me!"

Enterprise was still weighing whether it was a good idea or not to do that. This was quickly turning out to be nothing like her previous experiences when it came to acquiring clothes; casual inspections of a particular article or accessory that happened to be hanging around when passing, her trying it, and then moving on with or without it depending on her decisions. Even the first instance when Belfast and that one employee had been sent on a search to acquire her first ensemble didn't quite match what was going on here.

Arms now laden with a sizable pile of accessories, Victorious dumped it on her bed, paying no mind to the mess made when it immediately fell apart, scattering across the now disturbed blankets with some even sliding down to the floor. Still performing as an impossibly mobile fighter craft, she swooped back towards the dress, snatching it up.

"I need to get this fitted before we do anything else," Victorious said. "Black is definitely the right choice. This'll act as a perfect base with plenty of room to get creative!" And with another excitable spin of her heel, she made a happy hop towards the desk where the sewing machine was, her landing on the chair. "Now, bust, waist, and hips were…." She regained her measuring tape, using it on the dress that she laid out on the surface of the desk. "And what we have here…oh, good, this'll be easy!" She reached over, taking a couple pins from the chest and sticking one in a particular spot of the material.

Enterprise fidgeted in her state of undress while Victorious fervently worked. This was definitely different, not only in the preparations but the materials that were involved. Sunlight continued to reflect off the shining array of dresses by the window, rich in style and satin. Discouraged, she strayed over to the pile of accessories, more comfortable with the disorganization created from the messy deposit until she narrowed to a particular piece that would be the glinting gold of an ornament or too-smooth silk of a glove.

One glove she picked up, the pearls of different sizes attracting her attention and her touching to feel the rounded, pristine surfaces that left her lost on how they had been attached where they rested on what would be the back of the hand. A feathery scarf produced several more questions of what methods were involved that gave it its shape.

"Did you make these, too?" Enterprise asked.

"Hm?" Victorious twisted around in her seat just enough to bring Enterprise in view. "Oh, some yes, some no. Jewelry, definite no, but a good bunch of the other stuff was something I saw and wanted to have in my collection in case I found uses for them, like now! It's important to have options!"

A lot of options, apparently. Even with the large stack that Victorious had grabbed, it hardly made a dent in what remained in the closet from whence they came. 'Some' of such a massive collection being made by Victorious's tailoring skill remained a big number to Enterprise, and she couldn't pick up anything that would let her know which was made by the shipgirl and which hadn't been. They all looked professionally made.

There came the thrumming of the sewing machine, Victorious getting to work. The Royal carrier was bent over, watching closely as a new seam was sewn into the dress, guided by an eye and hand belonging to what had to be a jovial expert. Enterprise watched her work with the speeding needle and thread of the machine, thinking of the dresses and what else had been made from this performance.

Is this really what one could call a hobby? Enterprise asked herself.

Long before coming here, she had seen shipgirls partaking in 'hobbies'. Long Island's hobby consisted of her games, Cleveland had a tree that she cared for, San Diego had her singing, and she had seen the golfing, tea ceremonies, and book reading of the Royal Navy girls. Victorious's tailoring, however, felt like something beyond that in terms of time and effort of what she exhibited now and what it had taken her to get to the level that she was at, with the number of products made because of it.

It felt like something that shouldn't be. The opinion wasn't based on how Enterprise thought it would be impossible for her to learn such a skill, but how there existed a shipgirl who was able to do this at all. The time and resources needed to create these things, in their different styles and colors…

What is the point of this?

That adverse thinking was making a return. This glove and the rest…what was the point of them? More importantly, what was the point of all this trouble with her needing to wear these things?

"How long did it take you to get good at this?" Enterprise asked when she heard a break in Victorious's work.

"Long time," Victorious responded as she shifted a portion of the dress around to be properly positioned for the next seam. "But we got long lives, so I had plenty of time to learn!"

Enterprise couldn't share that reasoning as she never felt like she had such opportunities, even with her long length of service. There had only ever been fighting and preparing for the next one, with another guaranteed to come after that. What time that wasn't spent for that…it felt like it would be wasted as she was struggling to not see the past week as.

"And you wanted to do it?" Enterprise asked. "That was all it took?"

Victorious tilted her head at her. "Do I need another reason?" When Enterprise couldn't respond, she shrugged. "I just like beautiful things. This world is blessed with much beauty."

"I've seen a lot of ugly." To herself, Enterprise would say that she had seen more ugly than she had beauty.

Victorious nodded. "Oh yes, there's been a lot of that, and this war has gotten uglier with the Crimson Axis. But you know, you can't surround yourself with ugly all the time; it just makes you miserable. That's why there should always be something beautiful for someone to look at. Beauty brings happiness whether it be the people, the clothes they wear, or when we're able to see a world that isn't dirtied with smoke or gunpowder. I want to contribute to this world's beauty in my own way!"

Enterprise thought of Yorktown who saw the beauty in the ocean – the beauty that Enterprise could not see, with it having been dirtied by what Victorious had mentioned. And now, with this collection of beautiful cloth, Enterprise felt that beauty aspect being smothered. For something to be held in such high regard, only for it to be so easily tarnished. To Enterprise…

"Is it really that important?"

Victorious looked at her with wide-eyed shock. "What do you mean? Of course it is!" She spun herself and the entire chair around, the carpet preventing any loud screeching that would've occurred. "This has been why Belfast has taking you around London, right?"

Enterprise felt a bit of apprehension. "How much do you know about that?"

Victorious blinked at her curiously. "Only what I've heard from some folks and what Belfast mentioned. You've been hanging out around the city for a bit of vacationing after the whole thing with the Sakura Empire, right? Taking in all the beauty of the city, getting recharged?"

Enterprise eased up, relieved that was all that Victorious knew. "Yeah, that's basically it."

"Yeesh, you act like there's some big dark secret that I don't know about or something." Unknown of how close she was, Victorious said, "There's nothing wrong with that! After that ugly bit of war, you need to see the beauty in the real world again!"

"The real world?"

"Yeah, you know, without the battles and stuff!"

It was Enterprise's turn to look at Victorious strangely. "The battles are part of the real world. It's what we're created for."

And it was what they would have to return to. Enterprise knew that plainly, having been given a horrible reminder of that, with an enemy waiting for her. London had been a good distraction but with the date coming ever closer to where they would be launched at sea again, to the next battle, the more Enterprise saw what this had all been: a distraction.

"Oh geez, you're starting to sound like an Iron Blood ship; so serious and dramatic, that bunch. I'm glad I never got too involved with any of them!" Victorious bent her arms and brought them around to her one side. "This is the real world. The grass beneath our feet, the wind in our hair, the sun that gives light, the trees that give shade, and we live our lives happy and free." She rotated, bringing her arms to address another portion of the room. "This is the war we fight where people do dumb things for dumb reasons, or we get monsters that do dumb things for no reason and stuff gets ruined. That's not beautiful or part of the real world. We don't like this." She rotated back to the other side where the empty space was occupied by the 'real world'. "We want this. We like this. War can make us appreciate it more which makes us want to end it quicker so we can get back to it."

Enterprise couldn't follow Victorious's logic. "But the battles are real."

"Okay, okay, they're real but…oh, I'm blaming you for making this more difficult than it needs to be. What I'm trying to say is that the peace and beauty of the world is what's real when dumb, ugly things aren't happening. This is what's natural and what we want. When something like war happens, that's something ugly that we don't want so even though we fight, it's not to make it uglier but end it as fast as we can. We have to return to and bring as much beauty as we can, even on the battlefield, and to do that we must remain as glamorous examples to ourselves and those who look upon us or else everyone gets dirtied by it!"

Victorious still wasn't making much sense to Enterprise, but...was this related to what Belfast had tried to tell her before? The elegance in warfare? The beauty and peace that Victorious was saying that humans had wanted and pulled them away from the atrocities of the past? The elegant existence that humanity inherently desired to the point where war itself would one day become something that wasn't a real part of human nature?

But why was Victorious saying it in a way that made it something viable to human and shipgirl?

"You've been here long enough," Victorious said. "Isn't what you've been seeing what you want? Our lovely city, with all the sights while dressing up in nice clothes?" She glanced at her uniform, suddenly stricken. "Wait, don't tell me you've been wearing that the whole time!"

What I want? "No, I've worn other clothes."

"Well how did it make you feel? Good, right? Wearing something nice, looking at nicer things? So much better than the battles we fight in!"

It was a question that she had been asked this morning, forcing her to admit that she had been feeling better with her stay in the city. Though this one was similar, it was framed to be more direct, with words like want and how it was better than the conflicts they participated in. When put in that way, Enterprise hesitated, wracked with indecision.

She did like those things. But preferring them, wanting them? Thinking like that, and putting the peace of the city alongside destructive warring, Enterprise felt the paralyzing effect that had her stuck in between them. Even with all the good she liked, any leaning towards the city was halted, her thoughts and muscles freezing, and a command would follow.

Stop. It's a lie.

But she didn't want to fall back towards war. She hated it, she didn't want it, but…that was what she was for, wasn't it?

Her silence produced disbelief from the Royal who was ignorant of her struggle. "Really? It's that hard?" Sighing, she crossed her arms over her chest, directing some exaggerated condescension at Enterprise. "Look you, real or not, we all need a break from the battles, and it's not like all the good we do is only for the battles. Take you, for instance."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you! You're the Mighty E! The super strong Eagle Union carrier! When I heard you were coming, I was like, 'wowie, I get to meet this awesome shipgirl in the flesh? And I get to make her wear one of my dresses?' I was so excited, but here you are acting like that and now I'm not excited! Well, no, that's a lie; I'm still excited but come on! Imagine what people would think if they saw you like this!"

Enterprise was about to say how she didn't care what other people thought of her but was interrupted when she realized how much of a lie that was. Wasn't caring what people thought of her a significant reason for why she was here?

"If they saw you, they'd say, 'wow, Enterprise is such a downer' and then they'd be downed! But if they saw you in a gorgeous dress they'd say, 'wow, Enterprise looks so good. How can she look so amazing? Oh, well because of Victorious's great taste but-' okay, I'm getting off track! Point is, people see you looking bad, they feel bad. They see you looking stunning, and they'll be stunned! See? Beauty – one, ugly – zero, and the winner is everyone!"

"I think you're overexaggerating," Enterprise replied, heavily doubting that she'd have the effect that Victorious was imagining.

"No way! You're practically the star of the show here with how many people are talking about you! We can't have you disappointing them! This is the perfect opportunity to make this a big reveal to show off a whole new side of you! Belfast's been hanging around you this whole time, right? I know she hasn't been wearing her maid uniform this whole time!"

"She hasn't…"

"Well how was seeing a whole new side of her all to yourself?"

That wording – 'all too herself' – did something weird, Enterprise's experiencing that somersaulting feeling in her stomach when she thought of what she had seen of Belfast. And rather than her observations being restricted to meager perceptions of 'balance', she was assaulted by the physical attributes she had noted and felt…an allure to. The sweater that she first wore came to mind, Enterprise getting a sharp focus of her slim shoulders and back, the sundress that had matched that white of her hair and gave her such a gentle air, the shadow of the hat enhancing the sparkling of her eyes when she smiled, that nightdress that, thinking about it now, had a thinness that was somehow mesmerizing…

She didn't feel ashamed as she did when looking at Victorious, but she felt a little guilty about thinking of Belfast like this. It was a different kind of guilt, though. A…good guilt?

"Ooooh?"

Enterprise glanced down and, for the umpteenth time, swiftly pulled away when she saw Victorious having gotten close again, rubbing her chin with a sly expression on her face.

"I see how it is," Victorious giggled.

Enterprise reflexively rose to a higher position in response to a need to oppose whatever it was Victorious was thinking, even if she didn't really know what the other carrier was thinking or why she had to do so. "See what?"

It served to get Victorious to acquire additional humor, her laughing as she skipped back to safety. "No need for any more words, is there? Let's get you dressed and put on display! I'll make you beautiful, others will see you, they – and Belfast - will love it, and by the end of the night I'll guarantee that you'll love it, too!"

Enterprise held some doubts over her claims but for some reason the idea of Belfast being inspired to feel the same emotions that Enterprise had just felt a moment ago when thinking about her did make the upcoming party just a little more appealing than it had been before.

Just a little.

It didn't make the actual dressing phase any less hectic. While Victorious returned to her desk to make the final adjustments, she had directed Enterprise to pick out what she liked from the pile to be used. It was easier said than done, the gleaming jewelry and other items a bit too dazzling for her tastes. What she really ended up doing was fiddle with a couple pairs of gloves, her passing on the lengthier ones that went as far as the elbow and preferring the shorter ones. She even tried one on as she had gotten the habit of doing with anything that got her a little interested in her previous shoppings, pulling it tight and flexing her fingers.

A snug fit, and the soft, breathable material – not satin, some kind of nylon cotton - did feel nice, the white wrapping around her wrist, and the three seams were a plain decoration that she liked better than any pearls or something as unnecessarily glamorous. Acting on an impulse, she pinched her thumb, middle, and index finger together and made a short drawing motion like she would when setting one of her arrows at the ready. It wasn't a bad feeling. She never minded firing bare handed, and she always assumed that any kind of covering would just get in the way when someone would bring up a suggestion about it, typically Vestal when the repair ship fussed over the latest collection of bruises or calluses that were the result of extended battles.

Feeling these gloves on her hands…she was developing second thoughts about that.

"Oh, look at you!" came the eventual exasperated huff when Victorious came over. "We're dressing for a party, not battle!"

"Sorry." Enterprise curled and uncurled her fingers. "They feel nice," she complimented.

Something passed over Victorious's face as she gave the clothed hand a look, her musing, "I think those were a part of my early work when I was practicing with more plain stuff. Not that I don't appreciate compliments – love them, actually, totally do – I don't think they'll fit with the dress here."

Enterprise felt a nudge of disappointment but relented to the expert, her sliding the glove off her hand that was opposed to the comfort and warmth being taken away.

Victorious watched and lingered on it when Enterprise set it aside, appearing thoughtful, but the ace became her sole focus again. "Anything else catch your eye?"

Enterprise looked at the rest of the accessories and when nothing else stood out, she shrugged helplessly.

Victorious sighed in disappointment, but Enterprise considered it to be an act with how fast she then grinned, that dangerous glint returning with it. "Leave it to me, then!"

Which was essentially what happened, as had been the case from the beginning, and Enterprise didn't think that it would become the extensive task that it ended up being. Putting on the actual dress was done with little trouble, she able to slip it on easily and she initially feared that it was too loose. That, however, turned out to be due to the design of the dress that she had particular reservations about, even after Victorious zipped the back and tightened the collar around her throat.

The dress was sleeveless, the skirt all the way down to her heel-clad feet, Enterprise afraid that her legs would become entangled in the black fabric, but the material flowed around her legs with ease in response to her experimental movements, so her worries were allayed somewhat. The length of her stride would remain limited – no way would she be running in it without it becoming a serious hazard. She supposed a party wouldn't require any reason for her to sprint, but she was going to remain conscious about the limitations of her mobility.

What became a more pressing concern was higher up, where the dress opened up at the torso, baring her front in a manner similar to Victorious's.

"Can't we close this up?" Enterprise asked, her one arm having instinctively risen to cover the naked skin that remained there. Thinking of going out like this, in a public space that would be filled with a large number of partygoers, did generate a reservation about this exposure that she wouldn't have paid any mind to otherwise. She did possess common sense. The glossy satin, though providing ease of movement of her legs, had her worried about ease of movement elsewhere.

"No way!" Victorious chided. "It's the key to expressing your womanly charm!"

"I'm worried about expressing too much."

"Oh, here, let me just add some additional touches, you worrywart." Passing under Enterprise's guard, Victorious brought the parted ends together an extra centimeter and fastened what would be the first of the decorative ornaments to the bottom, resting it right over her belly.

The small modification produced an extra snugness to Enterprise's hips and chest, leaving her to feel better enough to lower her arm to take a look at what had been placed. Though it had no definite detail, the wings that spanned out to the sides made Enterprise fancy that the middle portion with its sharp, downward beak made the gold piece reminiscent of an eagle.

"Now be a doll and lift your chin for me!"

Enterprise certainly felt like one when she obediently obeyed, a chain spinning twice around her neck with another piece of jewelry being hooked into the dual loops. Victorious provided a small mirror for Enterprise to see what it was. She was sure that she had seen what lay against her throat before but never got the name of it.

"The fleur-di-lis," Victorious helpfully provided. "It means 'lily flower'. A souvenir I picked up from Vichya a long time ago." She shrugged with a smile thinner than what Enterprise had become accustomed to as her norm. "It looked right to me."

The origin killed any kind of comment that wasn't the respectful promise that Enterprise gave. "I'll be sure to return it."

"Don't be silly! I'd rather you keep it along with the rest of the outfit! If you see anyone admiring it back in Eagle Union, make sure to tell them who's responsible! Free advertisement to make a claim on that market!"

Enterprise had no intention of doing that, planning on changing and returning everything at some point after the celebration here. She kept it to herself and inspected the half-finger gloves that went halfway up her forearms, with cufflinks that would fit better on a coat. She wasn't as much of a fan of these, and even to her own inexperienced eye they seemed to be at odds with the dress. That was until Victorious unveiled the final piece.

"Now this was made for you, and I mean that literally!" The claim was followed by a cloth of that same black satin, but the weight felt heavier when it was placed on Enterprise's shoulders. Victorious made sure it wouldn't slip off and then secured it with a gold tassel that connected the metal epaulettes at her shoulders. "This was an experiment I got halfway through but didn't know how I wanted it! When I heard you were coming, I happened to see it and put in the extra hours to complete it!"

Victorious guided Enterprise to a full-length mirror at the corner of the room for her to best see what it was that had been gifted. Enterprise had assumed it to be a cape – a very long cape that came a foot short of the length of her dress's skirt, with the tassel and epaulettes reminding her of Wales's. That was all there was of any Royal Navy influence though, the top third of the cape having added layers that were sewn in, their shapes bearing a resemblance to large sleeves. An additional strip of triangular-shaped cloth had been sewn in and folded back, the white inner lining giving the appearance of a coat lapel adorned with a pin consisting of three stripes and a single star placed over them.

Enterprise had been unsure of the ensemble, but the assurance that came from something so recognizable, with an added martial flair, gave her a different impression altogether. "I thought you didn't like my coat."

"I said it would be no good, which it isn't!" Victorious shot back. "This is a completely different story!"

Enterprise lifted her one arm, parting the cape and getting a look at the white inside and her cuffed glove. It was, she decided, a good fit.

Victorious noted her silent approval. "Since you've been approving so far, you better accept this little crown I have for you!" She reached towards Enterprise's head. "An eagle isn't an eagle without her feathers!"

Some kind band was placed at one side of Enterprise's head, something sliding behind her left ear while another was stuck behind her head, within her hair. With the mirror, she could see that it was a type of elevated band that went halfway around her head made of white feathers. Enterprise performed a shake of her head, the feathers waving in the air in response. A little too festive for her liking.

"Humor me," Victorious pleaded. "This is the least you can do, with all that I've been doing for you!"

Enterprise arched a brow, openly questioning if this was something that she should really be thanking Victorious for. After another glance at the mirror and another manipulation of her cape, an unbidden quirk of her lip occurred. "Alright, I guess it won't hurt."

Victorious beamed. "Then you're all set! Fabulously set! Now, then…" Her expression becoming serious – as serious as it could be, anyway -, Victorious crept towards her door with caution. Slowly easing it open, she poked her head outside, looking left and right, and then waved Enterprise over while hissing, "Come on, come on!"

"Why are you whispering?" Enterprise asked but was already following the order.

Victorious held the same hand up, halting Enterprise's movement and any more questions as she took another look outside. "We can't spoil the surprise early! Guests shouuld be arriving soon and we don't want to ruin your grand debut! We gotta get you to the next phase!"

"…Next phase?"

"Duuuh! You got the clothes, but now it's all about the hair and makeup!"

There had been no mention of that. "You can't do it?"

"Not my expertise! Besides, I never need it!"

"So why am I-?"

Victorious grabbed her by the shoulder and heaved her to the forefront. "No time for the inconsequential! Go, go, go!"

The command, even this highly animated whisper, touched on Enterprise's instinct to obey. That and the strength that Victorious placed against her back to force her to move forward. Enterprise stumbled through the door, needing to adapt to the mobility restrictions of her attire, but Victorious rushed her through anyway.

"Down the hall, to the left, three doors down!" Victorious energetically instructed, using her position to the fullest as she pushed Enterprise on.

"Victorious-!" Enterprise tried.

"I said no time!" The Royal carrier was enjoying this. "Go, go, go!" She nearly whooped it out and had to suppress what were obviously bubbling giggles.

Enterprise didn't have much choice, and the urgency that Victorious advertised did persuade her to be forced to follow through with the directions, being ushered down the hall before a tug had her making a sharp turn to the left that nearly resulted in her falling over if Victorious didn't keep her upright. Making it to the door, Victorious reached past her, pushed it open, and did the same to Enterprise to send her through it.

Again Enterprise nearly fell, balancing dangerously on one heel before she pivoted, bringing the other one down, and struggling to restore balance. It brought Victorious in sight, the shipgirl poking her head through the door she had been about to close but stopped to gift some parting words.

"I'll let her know you're here! Gotta get changed now! See you at the party!"

Let who know? "Victorious-"

But her head had already vanished, a hand reaching out for a final farewell. "Ta-ta!" Then it darted out, the door instantly closing.

Enterprise gave the door a look of disbelief before her shoulders fell and she released a long-suffering sigh. That had been…exhausting. Victorious definitely wasn't what she had come to expect from the Royal Navy.

She wasn't bad, though, Enterprise assessed. And that energy of hers can be infectious. Enterprise looked down at herself, spreading out her cape to better unveil her dress and its ornaments, and had to admit that she agreed with the final selection. For having doubted Victorious and her own capacity to wear such clothing, she had been proven wrong on both counts.

Not that Enterprise expected to wear such a thing again after tonight. Attempting to stave off what that would lead to, Enterprise turned to see where it was that she had been brought.

The environment turned out to be something that she had seen before. Short tables lined the entire room, each one with a chair and mirror. On the tables themselves, there was a colorful mixture of assorted brushes and bottles, with full kits of beautifying products: powders and concealers, highlights, and so on. It was a type of beauty salon, with one end of the room dedicated to small sinks with nearby shelves occupied with bottles of shampoo and conditioners.

Enterprise had seen them, with one instance involving Belfast pointing one out and asking if she should make an appointment when Enterprise surveyed it. She had spoken in that teasing way she always did, expecting Enterprise to say no – which she did -, and seeming to have only brought it up in order to witness the carrier be baffled at the suggestion.

The memory did something, hitting her with a bleak sense of loneliness that dulled the luxury of the room that she stood in. Without Victorious's excessive activeness, it dawned on her now that this was the first time since even before she arrived in the Royal Isles that Belfast was not at her side, or at least in close vicinity. The understanding was accompanied by the void that became known at her side with her friend's absence. With the cruiser having been with her the entire time here, not having her around felt wrong.

Telling herself that Belfast was here in the Royal Palace didn't assuage her as much as she wanted it to, the breadth of the palace that managed to increase further in her perception the more she saw of it working against her.

Enterprise recalled going through this before, and she directed the same ridicule at herself as she did back then with what she had seen as a dependence on Belfast that was an insult to the both of them. Their relationship having grown more personal, with them mutually confirming a friendship that had grown between them, she didn't want to use as an excuse to rationalize any of those previous irrationalizations of an unjust ownership over Belfast that she had been worried about.

She had warned herself about it before; of how she needed to not only regain fortitude to return to battle but also prepare herself for their separation. She had assured herself that there was time for both, but it was also both that she felt she was failing, with that time to address them now grossly shortened. In this instance concerning Belfast, the time and proximity she had been sharing with her was obviously to be blamed, but it had been unavoidable due to Belfast's guidance having been needed.

Belfast was a friend, a good friend, and that establishment had been a grace that made their interactions and workings to fix Enterprise feel more genuine. All that Belfast was doing, while for her, were things that Enterprise felt like she was doing with her on equal footing, above the lady and maid relationship that had previously been made between them and what she was happy that came to be. When her condition escalated, it was a relationship that she was able to rely on and bring her here, where there may be some kind of ambiguous chance to help her.

But this is her home. Enterprise picked up a random bottle of nail polish, rolling it around in her hand with no true purpose while remembering the love she had seen from Belfast that was directed towards her home nation.

It was something she couldn't forget, no matter how much time they had been spending together or how much the thought hurt more than ever before. They were of differing factions, and although this was proving to be all that she had secretly desired – to be able to extend her time with her in such a way -, she was worrying about the potential risks that may have become additional consequences for this. She didn't want either of them to be unnecessarily hurt by what was going to be an inevitable parting.

Belfast had what she saw as a home here, her duties and likes centered here, and Enterprise didn't want to take any of that away from her for selfish reasons.

She certainly didn't want Belfast to be sad over someone like her – an outsider -, especially if she remained broken by the time their separate duties would have them being called away from each other. Belfast…didn't deserve that.

Staring at the fancy cursive that made up label of the nail polish, Enterprise unconsciously lifted her other hand. Rather than her head, as had become procedure at this point, she laid her palm against her chest, where the dress kept it bare. She still couldn't touch what was ailing her: some pain that felt close but far from her reach, originating from the organ that was vital to her human form.

It was then that she heard someone fiddling with the door and Enterprise dropped it while setting the nail polish back on the shelf. She was ready to meet the visitor by the time the door opened and they stepped on through.

"Miss Enterprise, I presume?"

Enterprise needed a moment, quite sure that the maid wasn't the same one who had granted she and Belfast entrance to the Royal Palace despite having the same translucence with her gray eyes and ghostly paleness of skin. No, she wasn't Glasgow; the band on her head made of metal that maintained how the hair at one side of her head was swept back with the help of a duller blue bow, the strands at the other side collected in a single side tail. Her arms were covered in sleeves separated from the rest of her maid uniform and following them down had Enterprise identifying a black umbrella that was in her possession, closed.

The last was an odd sight, Enterprise sure that there hadn't been a cloud in the sky when she was being driven here, only able to remember sunny brightness in Victorious's room so she didn't know why this maid carried one. She mentally shrugged it off. "I am."

This sister ship – Enterprise should know one when she saw one by now as long as they shared enough traits -, did not have a countenance that was merely adopted with little control unlike Glasglow. Instead, the placid expression must've been something she was born with given how naturally it rested on her face. Rested being a more suitable way to describe it than what Enterprise intended. After quietly closing the door behind her, the shipgirl waited until she had hung her umbrella on a nearby hook on the wall before formerly introducing herself as every Royal Maid did: pinching her skirt and dipping into a curtsy.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance." A mellow smile was shaped with a languidness that was just enough to convey the authentic kindness it possessed. "I am Newcastle of the Southampton subclass of the Town-class cruisers."

Most of the Royal Maids Enterprise knew of belonged to the Town-class, divided in their subclasses: Belfast, Edinburgh, and Sheffield. Now she could add two more, although Enterprise was aware that she had yet to be introduced to any members of another subclass outside of Edinburgh and Southampton: Gloucester.

Enterprise voiced her guess. "Glasgow's sister?"

Newcastle nodded, rising from her curtsy. "Yes, I take it you met her at the entrance. I apologize for the wait; I had been attending to affairs out at the veranda when I heard you were ready to receive me."

There was something about Newcastle that Enterprise picked up almost immediately: an aura of age that Enterprise was hard-pressed to compare to any of the other shipgirls she knew of. It had nothing to do with her appearance, she looking like what would be a young woman having just reached the prime of adulthood in human standards, but something that could be felt by other shipgirls: accumulated wisdom that weathered the presence they projected. It wasn't quite at the level of ships like Langley, but it was past Enterprise and even Yorktown although not by much. What Enterprise detected and what she saw of Newcastle's disposition roused a feeling of respect and care.

It did not make someone like Newcastle weak, just experienced. Very experienced. For Enterprise, it was something to be appreciated. "I wasn't waiting long at all," she thus felt inspired to assure.

There was a modest curve to Newcastle's smile, the cruiser experienced enough to identify what she was doing. "I am relieved to hear that. Then, if it pleases you, I will be the one to apply your makeup for this evening's banquet."

Enterprise hesitated at that, her glancing back at the table and its assortment of tools devoted for beautification. "That was mentioned to me…"

Newcastle crossed over with a leisure gait that may as well be equal to a rowboat when matched up with Victorious's pace. Those translucent eyes contributed to her aged character, as did the spark that would be better found on a more elderly shipgirl who truly knew exactly what was going on with one younger than her and was amused by it. "Be at ease. Although makeup can do amazing things, it is not my intention to turn you into someone unrecognizable. Only a minor application of foundation will be needed to enhance your own natural looks." She took the back of the chair, sliding it back with nary a sound, and waited.

Newcastle didn't express any kind of confidence, or really anything that could be considered as a pressure for Enterprise to follow her direction. She would sit down or not, and Newcastle would be fine with either result, even leaving or guiding Enterprise wherever she was planned to be next with little else needing to be passed between them. That was what got Enterprise to take the seat, looking at her and the maid's reflection. With it, she witnessed Newcastle make no reaction – not even to use the mirror to stare back at her -, instead content to let a second tick by for Enterprise to be settled before she moved, circling around to the carrier's side where the table forced her to lean to get a direct look at Enterprise.

There was a point that Newcastle focused on, and Enterprise felt the light brush of her fingers near her temple. "Such a troubled brow you have," Newcastle commented. A slight movement at one corner of her mouth, with that pale skin, really did make it appear like some spectral apparition, its existence debatable. "I can see why she would become interested in you."

The comment did serve to furrow Enterprise's brow. "Who?"

The cruiser didn't supply anything else, content to stare in peaceful contentment at her patient before she made a return trip to place herself behind her again. "I'll start with your hair before we get into the makeup." She retrieved a bottle of spray-on conditioner. "A couple brushes, but I will need to remove your hair ornament."

"Go ahead."

The feathered band was gone a moment later, Enterprise hearing and barely feeling the spray of the bottle as it applied the conditioner. A brush of nylon bristles then began passing through her lengths, what tangles they encountered breaking apart with ease against Newcastle's technique.

Enterprise let a few passes go through in silence. "Was it Belfast you were talking about?" It had to have been the answer, obvious enough that she should've asked if it was Belfast from the start but the word that Newcastle used – interested – had got her to hesitate.

"Indeed I was," Newcastle answered. "I had already known that Belfast would be occupied during her time here, and I may've heard a whisper of arrangements having been made beforehand. I was curious to see who it was she had become occupied with."

Enterprise wanted to turn her head, but didn't want to interrupt Newcastle's efforts, leading her to continue using a mirror to put her in view. "Is that strange?"

Newcastle still wasn't doing the same, keeping calm, untroubled focus on her gentle strokes of the brush. "I don't think it's my place to say. However, I was surprised when I had received a call from her asking for assistance."

"You mean this morning?" Hadn't the call Belfast made this morning been just for transportation?

"Oh, it was a couple nights ago. It had been quite late, but I was on station to receive it."

Couple nights ago? It didn't take long for Enterprise to make the obvious conclusion: the call that was being referred to had to have been made on the night of her last vision.

Newcastle continued, "She did say that she wished to have a car ready to pick you two up in case it would be needed, and that she would appreciate it if I could get Victorious to lend her expertise to provide a dress. Makeup work and hair care she wanted to leave to me. Now that is a little strange to me."

The latest revelation of just how advanced Belfast's preparations were left Enterprise stunned, but the last that Newcastle said had her shifting priorities. "How is it strange?"

Newcastle took her time in answering, busy with passing her hands through Enterprise's hair, being sure that she had gotten the last of the tangles out. "I'm sure you're aware, but Belfast is what a number of us consider as a perfectionist. She pursues perfection in every one of her tasks, obstinately so. Always finding ways of increasing the scope of it in order to account for every variable, covering each and every base that needs to be covered, and leaving nothing to chance."

"…That does describe her pretty well," Enterprise replied, her agreement with the assessment made with little question. When they met, the cruiser had been 'obstinate' in her pursuit of getting Enterprise to lead a more elegant life. But that polite form of stubbornness wasn't all that Belfast had at her disposal, Enterprise only recently understanding as to how many layers of thought her friend wrapped around her every action, her every purpose always having some kind of meaning that was for a larger goal.

Enterprise had stopped believing in coincidence and chance when it came to Belfast, the two things being something she tended to eliminate. Even in a city, every path and visit that they made on a particular day - even the so-called innocent and random wanderings – was all a part of this box that Belfast had constructed and one that became smaller and smaller as the day went on, Belfast guiding her the entire way, until Enterprise and whatever it was that Belfast wanted her to see and learn from were all that were left in it.

There had been times when Enterprise had thought the line to be crossed, but even now she couldn't really find fault in Belfast's methods. It was a friend helping a friend, Enterprise always feeling like Belfast was doing it to help her, and Enterprise remained certain that Belfast had been obtaining something that could only be done with her as well.

If anything, it was when something unexpected did happen that Enterprise would discover a sign of Belfast's true feelings – hidden desires or worries that affected her like anyone else, and because of their relationship the carrier felt like she had been able to see what was only for her to see and know. An exchange that brought them better into each other's confidence, and only able to occur due to Belfast's careful planning.

And when things went wrong, as they had been recently, it was when Enterprise truly knew she had someone she could count on and would be there for her…just as Belfast had always been.

It was what made it so hard for her to think of when they would have to part.

Newcastle leaned back into view, done with her hair. "Well, she certainly has no qualms about using what staff is available to get the job done, even if it is to lead them struggling with what has become a more immense project. But there are certain things that she would dedicate exclusively to herself. I had thought this was one of them, so I can't help but wonder what may've happened to change that."

Enterprise didn't want to make it obvious, but her unwillingness to meet Newcastle's eye was something that would be picked up by a more perceptive member of the Maid Corps, and Newcastle was proving that she was very perceptive.

"Oh, pardon me," Newcastle said with gentle apology. "I apologize. This seems to be a personal matter that I should not intrude on." She busied herself with obtaining one of the cosmetic kits. Opening it, it was to reveal a palette of condensed powder of different shades. "Belfast is a precious friend, and I cannot help but be concerned about her."

Enterprise believed that, Newcastle seeming to be unable – or so unwilling that she was unable – to bother being anything but sincere when it came to her kindness. But the carrier did want to adjust the subject matter, just a little bit. "You seem to know a lot about Belfast."

"I would hope so." Acquiring a small pad that she slipped two fingers through the strap of, Newcastle patted it against one of the shades of powder on the palette and began bringing it towards Enterprise's cheek. "After all, she had once been my subordinate."

Enterprise couldn't help but jerk her face up. "You were the head maid before her?"

Newcastle had halted her hand before Enterprise had made such a move, as if predicting what her statement would've caused. "I was the very first of the Town-class cruisers to be put into service." She went the rest of the way, lightly brushing the pad along Enterprise's cheek. "It was Queen Elizabeth who assigned me to the position when she had established her court. I accepted it, and carried out my duties to as much to her satisfaction as possible until the role was passed down to Belfast."

A time when Belfast wasn't the head maid? That was something that Enterprise had trouble believing, Belfast always acting with such poise, with the air and respect that was attributed to such a position a natural and permanent part of her with how her subordinates and other members of the Royal Navy acted and referred to her.

As impossible as it sounded, it did pique Enterprise's interest in knowing more as it always did when she discovered something about Belfast. So far, such incidents involved those moments when Belfast would let something slip past her refined guard and it was solely for Enterprise to see and try to translate herself which – given her dulled social and empathetic skills -, she considered herself to be rather unreliable.

To have someone who could provide so much more, the opportunity was too good to pass up. "What was she like back then?"

Newcastle had turned to repowder the pad, and Enterprise noticed the added curve at the one corner of her mouth before she was able to better see it when the cruiser refaced her. "Belfast? She was like any other new shipgirl: young and driven with purpose. Her passion was noticeable from the very beginning, and she already knew what she wanted to aim for with it. She proved to be quite a handful early on, and I daresay that my pace had frustrated her with some regularity." She quietly tutted as she patted Enterprise's other cheek, although it was done in a manner of amused recollection. "The impatience of youth. Even she was not immune to it."

An impatient Belfast? As if imagining her not being a head maid hadn't been difficult enough. With all the patience that she had seen from Belfast when it came to her responsibilities – and, when Enterprise guiltily remembered, her early conduct towards her -, the carrier just assumed she had an inexhaustible well of patience.

Well, except for that one time… Thinking of that memorable moment, Enterprise tried to replicate it with a picture of a Belfast who was still an apprentice. It was difficult, Enterprise being challenged with scant resources to forge such simulations, but with her previous musings of how much control that Belfast could exert over a situation now as head maid, Enterprise could draw an image of a younger Belfast who wanted to assert it, being unable to, and in turn being frustrated because of it.

It was…well, it was that word that Enterprise had once used when she had caught a misstep from Belfast: endearing.

There was a soft, vibrating breath from Newcastle that Enterprise could barely call a chuckle. "She was quite headstrong, but her pursuit in her studying and training had tempered that. Above all, her ambition was all to fulfill her want to help whoever needed it. She was not the oldest, nor the youngest of us, but she had been born at a time when there had already been much destruction and hardship, with the Royal Navy and the scattered European factions struggling to reform in the wake of it. All she had wanted was to contribute into the healing that was occurring as the perfect maid rather than a warship."

Newcastle gave one final pat and then leaned back, inspecting her handiwork. Soon though, Enterprise got a feeling that it wasn't her handiwork that she was looking at, and her already soft expression softened a little more. "You two are very alike."

All that Enterprise could do was stare back, immediately thinking that Newcastle had made a mistake with her assessment. "I don't think she's anything like me." She thought she was going to leave it at that, but then added, "She's much smarter and kinder than I am."

The compulsion to add more and to create a divide between her and Belfast originated from a belief of how Enterprise found Belfast to be better at much more than she was. Then, with an unpleasant pang that occurred beneath her breast, she also knew the cause to be an effort to add a bit of distance between them in preparation to ease what Enterprise was being more conscious of: that being how not only their trip but their acquaintance was threatening to end soon.

But all it did was get Newcastle to create another delicate smile. "You were gifted with modesty, I see." She set the pad down, cleaning up her mess as she closed the kit and moved to put it away. She didn't give off a sign that they were done, leaving Enterprise to wait for the next step that Newcastle was setting up for.

For all the anarchic activity that Victorious went through to get her required materials, Newcastle's movements were unhurried but very exact – almost but not quite like Belfast. Whenever Belfast performed a task, there remained that sense of how the task was performed because it was what she demanded of it and achieved satisfaction because of how everything fell into place because of such control, and Enterprise had seen what occurred when something broke from it. With Newcastle, her peaceful demeanor was more in line with a natural flow of order – not manufactured or manipulated. Rather than Belfast achieving what was supposed to be, Newcastle went with what simply is.

It was that aura of hers. Throughout the process so far, it was like the next cosmetic that she would reach for was ready to meet her hand because it was the one she needed, with the return of an item – such as the kit – being slotted in and settling with the rest on its own because that was how it is. When Newcastle directed her attention to a row of pen-shaped objects, Enterprise swore that she was able to predict which one she was about to reach for because of how exact and natural her hand moved that it had to be the one third from the left that had to be retrieved in order to complete the maneuver with unbroken, innate finesse.

Enterprise suddenly had a better understanding of why a younger Belfast would be frustrated by that. If it was perfection that Belfast always sought to accomplish, what Newcastle was able to do was something that transcended that.

"On the contrary," Newcastle finally spoke, "I see much kindness in you, and knowing your exploits, I see a passion that rivals hers. What you two do and why you do it, it's all for the sake of alleviating the burdens of those around you. That's what makes me worried about her sometimes."

Enterprise perked up curiously. "Worried about her?"

Newcastle uncapped the pen-like object, it turning out to be quite like a pen. She regarded it for a second, the only sign of a kind of deep thought that she got over quickly when she glanced at Enterprise. "What has inspired Belfast since her birth was a devotion to be of service to others, to an extent much like yours. Though your paths diverge in your methods, they are closely parallel and just as inflexible. I worry that she hasn't had the time to be a bit more selfish with her life due to her never ending pursuits."

Enterprise experienced a tingle running up her body. The words were different but…

"While you've collected your stars, I've wondered when you've had the time to find an identity beyond the one that was created by them."

Enterprise shook her head, wanting to deny that what Newcastle was saying was so much like what Yorktown had said to her and the implication that Belfast was doing the same as her. "I don't think you should be worried about that. There's much more that she can do that I can't."

"Oh, I know she has acquired a great many sets of skills, but her acquirement and use of those skills had always been for the service of others and less so for herself."

"She always seems happy though." Enterprise had plenty of memories to back it up. "When she cooks and cleans. And she has interests. She has shown me a lot – the sights in the cities, sweets, clothes, games. We've enjoyed a lot together. She's been a good friend to me."

Newcastle's brows rose a centimeter. "Is that so?" There was an extended window of silence, even after Enterprise nodded in confirmation, and then she smiled. "Well, that's a relief. I guess this has been a good break for the both of you."

Enterprise hesitated, unsure if she should be finding something suspicious, but Newcastle wasn't saying anything more, instead content to simply stare at her with that smile. It was kind of like Victorious's – more subtle, but still giving Enterprise a feeling that there was something that someone else knew that she didn't.

"If I may ask," Enterprise suddenly said, "what happened that had Belfast becoming head maid?"

Enterprise had not heard any hard feelings being conveyed about Belfast taking her position, making her think that the transition hadn't been an event that resulted in animosity. But what had warranted it? Every Royal Navy girl positioned in the higher court seemed to covet it in some degree, the most notable example she thought of being Warspite and the knight's constant hanging at the queen's side to be wielded in whatever she saw fit – whether to give flattering praise to Elizabeth or smite whatever offended her with her blade.

The question had never left her mind, it having stayed there until she felt it appropriate to bring it up, and with Newcastle expressing a bit of worry about Belfast being in her former position…it was begging her to ask.

Newcastle did not mind, taking the question easily. "You may, although I assure you that it's nothing to be concerned about. Belfast was simply more suited. All her training and passion, who was I to deny her? The increasing demands that were a consequence of the growth of the Royal Navy had become too strenuous for me – both on and off the battlefield."

"Were you damaged?" Enterprise asked cautiously. Her own situation of taking Yorktown's place because of her injuries resonated strongly with Newcastle's.

"No, just old. My weapons, engines, and overall design had all been improved upon with the later subclasses. There had been talk of a retrofit, but to bring me to a specification that would keep up with my juniors would take much time and supplies that could be better used elsewhere with the warfront changing. So I retired."

"Retired?"

Seeming to remember what she had been in the middle of doing, Newcastle leaned forward, bringing the pen-like tool with her. "Exactly that. Her Majesty had set aside a berth for my ship in the Docklands where it has remained for some time now while I remain here at the Royal Palace, working as a maid, and when Belfast leaves her post, I fill in for her."

Enterprise inspected Newcastle, but not once did that picture of tranquility break. No regrets, no misgivings…just peace. In that way she and Yorktown were different, the disabled carrier not immune to the regrets that she had exposed to Enterprise of how she could no longer sail with her, with her burdens now transferred to Enterprise. Newcastle's peace was in a completed state, something that Enterprise found difficult to accept when her elder sister hadn't been able to achieve it.

"You don't wish to be able to be out there fighting again?" she asked.

Newcastle aimed at an eyebrow but stopped just before touching. "I suppose I did, and if I was able to I wouldn't object, but there are many other shipgirls out there who are younger and stronger than I am, such as you. They can handle the excitement and drama far better than I can."

The touch of the tip against Enterprise's brow, and how Newcastle began to outline it, had her suppressing a response and any involuntary movement that may ruin her work, leaving the retired cruiser free to continue speaking.

"It doesn't bother me now. I quite like my peace and quiet and wouldn't mind spending the rest of my time with days that go about so peacefully. I still have my queen, my many friends and colleagues, and my beloved family. This life that I find so wondrous is thanks to them, and there is much I can still do for them here. Even if I cannot fight, I can ensure they have this home for them to return to when all that they fight against becomes overwhelming."

Enterprise kept silent, using the time that Newcastle needed to take in her words and think. She had seen shipgirls in Newcastle's position, had seen them continue their lives in their own way, but had never really had a conversation like this with them about it. A reason for it was because she thought it would be disrespectful to bring something like this up to shipgirls who could no longer fulfill what they had been born for.

Belfast had posed the question of what she would do if she could no longer fight, and Enterprise had chosen not to answer it because she couldn't. Thinking of those other shipgirls, of their positions, she had been unable to accept being a part of that and maybe there had been an idea that they couldn't either, leading to her avoidance of broaching such a subject to them. She had thought that they had to be as frustrated as she would be if she were them.

But hearing Newcastle, who was so satisfied with where she was, and thinking of all that she had gone through from her birth to the conflict with the Sakura Empire…

"It does feel unbearable sometimes…"

Newcastle had finished with her outlining and was returning the pen to its holder when Enterprise spoke. The cruiser paused, preoccupied with another bout of consideration, and then she angled over to Enterprise. "You have been through quite a lot, haven't you?"

Heartfelt compassion was what was being presented, but with it was an extent of understanding that Enterprise had never been the receiver of before. Newcastle's age and experience - older, but with a gap that wasn't significant enough to put her far from the latest intensification of the war that had wracked Enterprise with her maladies of the heart and soul - created something relatable for the both of them. Newcastle's peace, lacking nothing, could nonetheless emphasize with what Enterprise was going through. Maybe not the extent, but the nature of it.

Enterprise's throat thickened, a ball within her chest having risen, but she swallowed in response to the unexpected and unwanted feeling, pressing it back down. "No more than anyone else," she quietly replied.

Newcastle stared at her for a little longer before nodding in that special understanding, her expression warming. "Yes, I really can see why she would be interested in you." She took a break to stand before Enterprise, her hands folding to her front in a very familiar way. "I consider myself very fortunate, not only for all that you girls do in my stead but how I came to be here. I had managed to live through that life of war while others did not, and there was a time in those early years when a lot of us believed that there would be nothing else for us. It was with the reformation of the Royal Navy and how humans had granted us stations that we were allowed to choose for ourselves that we became enlightened to how there could be more for us than just the fighting."

"More?" Enterprise asked.

"I believe that there is a stage that every shipgirl will reach; a kind of late adolescence that, given our aging, takes time to occur if I was to compare it to human growth. We want to explore and find out what else we can get out of life - our own selfish peace and happiness that will be established by what we come to love. I had been very lucky in that I was already doing what I eventually came to love: to support my friends and family as a maid."

"Do you…" Enterprise started to say, questioning if she was right about what Newcastle was saying, "…do you believe yourself to be more of a maid than a ship?"

"Yes," Newcastle answered, without hesitation, that smile of absolute peace reigning supreme on her content features. "We can be whatever we wish. That's what makes us human." She leaned forward towards Enterprise. "So I have a favor to ask of you, Enterprise. When you find what it is that you want, please assist Belfast when her time comes as well."

Why me? Enterprise thought and was the question that she nearly asked as she peered at Newcastle. It was a job that she did not feel that she could carry out. In another week, it could be very possible that she wouldn't be seeing Belfast for a long time. Besides… "You don't think being a maid is what she wants?" She remembered the lesson during the drive here well of how Belfast became offended by the mere suggestion of someone thinking she wasn't.

Like the makeup she had been applying, a measure of concern smudged Newcastle's peace, and in that moment the cruiser looked more like Yorktown. "Maybe she does, and this could just be the wasted worries of an elder, but much like you I feel that there may come a time where if she finds something she truly loves, the position that she had dedicated herself to may very well be something that will become an obstacle that she will not be able to overcome alone."

---

The rest of the makeup was applied with little else spoken between them. Newcastle had said that only a minor application of makeup was needed and that she wasn't trying to turn her into a completely different person, but Enterprise hadn't felt that way when she looked at the mirror for the final results. Using a different mirror in one of the halls didn't change that opinion because she felt like it was a very different person staring at her.

The conditioner had straightened her hair out of its usual unkemptness, the ivory strands falling past and around her shoulders with a smoothness that was closer to the satin that made up her dress and cape, as if they had become another decoration along with the feathered band that had been replaced on her head. The powder that had been applied to her face had done a similar job, her complexion having been freshened with the rougher lines gone. Her brows had been lined and groomed, and her lips glossed with a pale pink.

Enterprise stretched out a hand, appearing to reach out to her reflection but really to take a look at her fingers, the nails having been done with the same ivory white of her hair but the polish having brightened them.

This is still me?

The person in the mirror didn't seem to be her, not the warrior who had fought the Sirens her entire life. She wasn't Enterprise the warship but…something else.

Not that she had been acting as a warship lately, or dressing like one, but the clothes she had worn before she had viewed as camouflage that she had been using to blend into the public. She had been developing a preference of which among them she wanted to wear, even came to like them, but she still felt like who she really was remained right there beneath them. Seeing herself like this, all prettied up, with the furnished hall behind her in the background was a very different story.

She didn't hate it…but she wasn't entirely sure if she liked it either. This was a side of her that she had never seen before.

Another side of me? Enterprise shifted her gaze from her reflection to the back of her hand which she rotated around and curled her fingers, her nails shining. Her and Newcastle's conversation, still recent and fresh, occupied her mind.

Another side of her. A side that wasn't a warship? A side more…

Human?

A tremor coursed through her hand, stiffening her fingers, alarm spiking within the carrier, but the feeling subsided quickly, Enterprise having little trouble shaking the stiffness out of her digits and manipulating them freely. It shook her, but the quick recovery persuaded her to let her thoughts continue.

Belfast, Cleveland, and now Newcastle. All three of them had made the claim with little effort, like it was natural, and although Victorious did not say it outright, Enterprise was sure that the other carrier would've joined in on that: the surety that they were all human. The other half of the designation known as shipgirl, and the half that implied there being a chance of a life outside of the battles on the seas.

But is that true?

Victorious had said that where Enterprise was standing now was the real world: peace, beauty, elegance. The battles, though a part of it, were a temporary disturbance that needed to be dealt with as swiftly as possible, to prevent as much misery and inelegance that could lead them back to the dark and brutal past of humanity that could consume a world into oblivion as it had done in that world.

War was ugly and real, but each time it occurred humanity became a little better, improved a little bit more, and always towards the elegance that would push them further and further away from it.

Humanity.

But also…shipgirls?

A lie…

The voice, as cold and dark as always, but weaker. A whisper that couldn't transmit the full extent of its usual malice. Its influence, its strength, was weak here.

Was this really the chance where Enterprise could find what she was looking for?

She moved away from the mirror, continuing on.

Newcastle had pointed her out to this hall, but the former head maid had done so after guiding Enterprise to a staircase that would bring her to the second floor. Enterprise had thought it strange, especially when Newcastle didn't follow her and instead took a path that would lead in the same direction but remaining on the first floor. They were heading to the same place, so wasn't the logical course to be to travel together? Enterprise remained worried about getting lost.

Asking her that just got Newcastle to smile that same knowing smile before she walked off, the only reason that she gave Enterprise to follow her direction being that Belfast would meet her there.

It turned out that she hadn't been lying, Enterprise spotting Belfast soon after moving on from the mirror. And then she saw Belfast.

For some reason, as she had reviewed with Victorious's prompting, while Enterprise did not possess any strong feelings towards her own attire other than saying that she would like certain ones, it was a different matter when it came to Belfast. She had experienced a lineup of sensations as varied as the different clothes that she wore throughout their stay, and a portion of them had involved her becoming dumb and mute for a length of time that would consist of a couple seconds, maybe a little more.

But the complete immobilization and shutting down that occurred when she saw Belfast here had been something that had only happened when the full influence of the dark presence that tormented her had been put into play. Suffice to say though, there was no pain or anxiety-induced incapacitation, but instead something else, which was nothing at all.

Nothing being the midnight blue gown that captivated her with its lustrous fabric that shimmered in the indoor lighting, wrapped around a waist that she hadn't seen as thin and curvy as it did now, especially when it expanded to accommodate the wide hips and heavy swelling of the breasts that the fabric needed to crisscross over before encasing the delicate neck.

Belfast had foregone her metal collar, but its replacement golden loops around her throat were like the ones at her wrists, with a golden chain locked and hanging from them. Her braid remained, but a black bow had been placed behind her head. The rest of her white hair fell with a sleekness that matched her dress as Enterprise's did for her own, but the carrier did not think she was right to compare herself to the cruiser in any way, shape, or form. With the ends of her strands were the ends of her flowing skirt, but the slit gave a better view when they parted to the movement of the long, smooth legs beneath.

Save for the pair of white roses that had been pinned to one hip, the only additional accessories were the long gloves that went past Belfast's elbows, the fabric the same midnight blue but thin and tight enough to the point of providing teasing transparency of the skin they clothed. She did have one of those wraparound scarves at her arms, Enterprise feeling a bit relieved that it paired better with her cape because it helped with how the carrier felt that she was – for once – overly dressed when compared with Belfast.

Not that it stopped Enterprise's judgment of how Belfast appeared…her vocabulary left her again. The cruiser just appeared better than she did. Her vocabulary was the least of her concerns though, her biological systems having trouble rebooting and seizing in mid-startup when Belfast smiled at her. Enterprise didn't see any makeup on her – not that she believed that Belfast needed it – but for some reason her features had become impossibly bewitching, her gown enhancing the glimmer in her eyes beneath the lashes that seemed fuller than before.

"Victorious outdid herself," Belfast complimented, scanning the carrier up and down. "I cannot find the words that do you justice."

There was another of her teasing smiles, she obviously meaning to attack Enterprise with a compliment that would get her to squirm. Enterprise couldn't do that, and thought it was unfair that Belfast was trying to add something to what had already become overkill, with the carrier too blown away to say or feel anything in response to it.

A part of what was a fraction of her restored mental processes did come to a sort of a conclusion: to respond to a compliment with another compliment. "You look..." Belatedly, that segment of her brain spat out a suggestion. "Gorgeous."

Belfast's eyes widened, Enterprise ready to kick herself with how she believed she had made a mistake with all the fault belonging to Victorious. Then she saw the redness at Belfast's cheeks, Enterprise wondering if it was some makeup that she missed, until it began spreading and Belfast dipped her chin to hide what had been twisting her lips into something that she wanted to conceal.

"Touché," she returned with an uncharacteristic hush.

Enterprise pinned a reminder to thank Victorious when she saw her again, making it a double when Belfast glanced up, her broken discipline letting Enterprise witness the roaming of her eyes that said a bit more as to how much Belfast admired her dress.

"Well then," Belfast said, Enterprise sure that her gorgeously dressed friend was still trying to hide something with how she maneuvered to get to her side, all the while keeping her face suspiciously turned away until she was able to meet Enterprise's eye again once her cheeks cooled back to their regular complexion. "The party should be getting well underway at this point. Ready to make your grand entrance?"

Ever since the Pacific, Enterprise hadn't felt that she was ready for anything anymore. Not the wars out at sea that she was no longer capable of fighting in, the war within herself that she had no idea of how to win, and the enemies that spanned them both. Merely functioning as she once did was a notion that remained highly questionable.

But as Belfast returned to her side and secured herself to it by looping her arm through Enterprise's, filling the void that had been there throughout her absence, the carrier could at least believe that, for this night, she may have a chance of acquiring something. What that was she had no idea but for now, right here, she could believe in it.

She just hoped that she could make it count.