Lane scanned the ocean with his binoculars as the Warspite plunged through the waves.
It was in the middle of one of the rare periods of calm among the storms that had plagued their passage across the North Sea, so he was taking the chance to look around. Warspite herself was walking around, inspecting her ship's guns. He didn't really understand why- from what he could tell, the ship-girls could pretty much feel any problems with their vessel instinctively. Perhaps it was just nervousness, though part of him doubted she could feel anything of the sort.
"Message for you, Commander." He turned at Javelin's voice, who shifted from one foot to another when his eyes fell on her. She had become more skittish over the past few weeks as she had spent more time around him- he had no idea why. He took the envelope she held out.
"Thank you, Javelin," he said as he opened it. He didn't notice her blush as he read the neatly typed missive. "So the Jerries are about to put to sea, eh? Is it just me, or did we get the hard part of this whole operation?"
"We're better suited to long-range sailing," said Warspite, who was still eyeing one of the forward six inch guns critically. "It makes sense that they'd only sortie when we got close."
"I know, I know." He handed the paper back to Javelin. "Acknowledge and file this, please." Orders needed to be recorded. After all, how would the Admiralty know who to blame if things went wrong?
It had been- Lane glanced at his watch- just about sixty hours since they left Portsmouth, and they were almost to the rendezvous point, some seventy nautical miles south of Siren-occupied Norway. Far too close, in Lane's opinion, but for some reason it was the location everyone had agreed upon.
Elizabeth strolled onto the deck, airily waving Warspite when the other ship-girl approached. "Commander," she greeted him. "I understand we've arrived?"
"More or less," Lane said. He looked up at the skies. "The Sirens are remarkably quiet, aren't they?"
Lane blinked when the queen laughed. Until then, he hadn't realized how rarely he had heard so much as a chuckle from her. "What's so funny?"
"This world we live in," she said, still smiling. "We discuss the Sirens as if they were the weather. 'High chances of Sirens tonight, should clear up by morning.'"
A smile formed involuntarily on his own face. "Best we bring our umbrellas and anti-aircraft guns, then."
Warspite approached. "Respectfully, your Majesty, there is one difference between the weather and the Sirens."
"Only one?" said Lane, amused.
"Well, the most important one." She patted side of an AA gun fondly. "We can do something about the Sirens."
Once, the German Navy had been one of the most powerful fleets in the world. While no match for Britain, it had enough ships to command respect and had forced the British to commit their most powerful forces to the blockade that had almost forced the Reich to its knees in the Great War.
That fleet, already weakened from a series of battles with the British during the War, had been almost annihilated in short order by the Sirens when they arrived. Without a fleet, and lacking the long sea-faring tradition of the Americans or British, the Germans had seen little need to plan for future naval exercises.
Which didn't, in Falke's opinion, excuse the complete and utter chaos the fleet's launch had become.
"Bismark!" he shouted.
The normally stoic battleship came running up to him from where she had been haranguing a stevedore. She looked a little wild around the eyes, no doubt wondering if she was going to get a dressing-down like he had recently handed out to Eugen. "Kommandant?"
He waved a paper in his hand. "Why are we waiting for rations, for God's sake? Fuel, of course- but rations ?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, Kommandant."
"You don't-" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind. Carry on."
Bismark tossed him a nervous salute and practically fled. Falke turned back to surveying the port.
Hundreds- no, thousands- of people were purposefully moving around, some appearing purposeful, but most seeming to mill around uncertainly before an exasperated officer found them and gave them direction. There was even an Army unit in sight, the soldiers watching the chaos with bemusement. Every single ship had been manifested, over his strenuous objections. It made no sense. He'd argued that only one ship- his flagship, Bismark- needed to be manifested, while the others could remain in their ship-girl form. The British had found great success in using the natural advantages of their girls' much smaller human forms in battle, and there was no reason the Germans shouldn't have done the same. At least, he argued, let the destroyers and cruisers remain in their human forms.
He had been overruled, and he still wasn't sure why. And now they were loading wholly unnecessary supplies at the very last minute.
"Orders are orders," he muttered under his breath, almost a mantra. "Orders are orders..."
The hours had crawled by agonizingly slowly for the British fleet. Every moment spent at their rendezvous point made it increasingly likely the Sirens would notice their presence.
Lane could feel the sweat beading on his brow as he stared in concentration. Illustrious and Prince of Wales watched him coolly; Unicorn had a worried look on her face.
Finally, he decided.
"Pass."
Illustrious, the dealer, looked at her partner. "Wales?"
"Pass," said Wales with a slight smile.
They all looked at Unicorn, who colored under their collective gazes. She shuffled the cards around in her hand nervously. "I, er...what is it again?"
"Nine of spades, dear," said Illustrious patiently.
"Right. Well, I...er..." She suddenly looked up, coming to a decision. "Pick it up."
Illustrious smiled and picked up the card, discarding one from her hand.
Lane looked at his hand, then looked at the two older ships. "We said we were just playing for points, right?"
"If you mean two shillings a point," replied Wales, idly rearranging her hand, "then yes."
"Commander!" Amazon's voice was urgent.
Lane jumped to his feet. "My apologies, ladies, duty calls. Shame we couldn't finish the game." He rushed to to the deck, buttoning his coat against the cold.
Amazon saluted briskly as he approached. "Sir, beg to report three ships hull-down to the southeast." They weren't using radar or radio- the Sirens could track it- so he had posted lookouts. He was glad Amazon had been on duty at this particular time. All of the girls were competent enough at sea, but she was particularly efficient.
He peered through his binoculars. "Good eye, Amazon. Destroyers?"
"Aye, sir. Not sure what class."
"Why do they have their destroyers in ship form?" he wondered. Besides Warspite and Queen Elizabeth, all of his task force were skating around as girls.
Amazon shook her head. "I have no idea, Commander."
Falke was working his way through a mound of documents when Bismark walked in. The sortie had generated paperwork commensurate with the circus that had accompanied their departure, and he trusted his subordinates enough that he felt he could get a head-start on the piles of forms that were stacked on his desk.
Bismark waited quietly until he finished marking a few more boxes and looked up. "Yes, Bismark?"
"The English fleet has been sighted, Kommandant."
He glanced at the clock. "Almost on time. Remarkable, considering."
"Yes, sir." She hesitated, then reached into her pocket, withdrawing an envelope. "Kommandant, I was instructed to give this to you by Admiral Raeder when we reached the rendezvous. It was to be opened upon our arrival."
Falke stood up, giving her a quizzical look as he took the envelope. Sealed orders? He used his letter opener to tear open the envelope and started to read.
"Scheisse."
"What are they doing?" murmured Lane as he watched the German ships steaming ahead.
"They're signaling, Commander," said Amazon. She leaned forward against the rail as if the slight decrease in distance would help her see the flags better. "They say...Commodore Falke's flag is the Bismark."
"As expected."
She frowned as her cape whipped in the increasing wind. "They want us to fall into formation and they're headed north."
"What?" Lane frowned as he looked at the German ships. They were picking up steam, headed north as they had signaled. "Bring us closer to the flagship."
Though with evident reluctance, and a great deal of signaling, the British had finally fallen into formation with Falke's force. In addition to the two battleships he could see, a number of girls bracketing his fleet, sailing in perfect formation. Bismark had been naming them as they flashed past, which was useful as he had no idea what ships they represented as girls.
"That's Cygnet and Crescent," she said, pointing to two small girls that were tacking toward their lee. "They'll be escorting Illustrious, I expect."
"Who is that?" Falke asked, pointing at a young girl with improbably purple hair and a short tartan skirt.
"Javelin," said Bismark, following his finger. "J-class destroyer." She frowned. "She's coming straight to us."
A few minutes later, Falke was leaning over the rail, looking down at the destroyer as she craned her head to see him.
"Permission to come aboard, Commodore?"
"Granted," said Falke. He grimaced. Explaining this would not be easy.
Javelin immediately leaped into the air, landing almost casually on the deck beside him. Falke barely concealed his surprise. I should know their capabilities by now, he thought irritably.
Javelin saluted the flag, and then him. He returned the salute. "What can I do for you, Miss Javelin?"
With a cautious glance at Bismark, who was now standing beside Falke, Javelin replied. "Commander Lane sends his compliments and begs to know what our current plan is."
"Is that all?"
"Er- in essence, Commodore."
He sighed. There was probably a great deal more that Lane wanted to say- or had said. But it wasn't the destroyer girl's fault. Indeed, he couldn't even blame Lane for being confused and angry. "I think you will find this answers his questions," said Falke, handing her an envelope. He had spent the entire time since he read the sealed orders composing it.
Javelin took the envelope slowly, looking between Falke and Bismark. "Any other message?"
Falke exchanged a look with Bismark. "No, I think that will be quite enough."
"Curiouser and curiouser," muttered Elizabeth.
She was standing next to an increasingly annoyed Lane as he watched the German ships steam at full speed toward Norway. He looked down at her. "What is it?" he snapped.
She appeared to not notice his tone. "Look at that ship. The Admiral Hipper."
He followed her gaze to the heavy cruiser cutting through the waves to their northeast. Raising his binoculars, he gave her a closer look.
The strap was the only thing that kept the binoculars from falling to the deck below. "What the blazes? Those are German soldiers."
"Lots of them," confirmed Elizabeth. She looked over her shoulder. "Warspite!"
Warspite joined them, nodding as Elizabeth pointed out the German troops. "Treachery?"
"To what end?" asked Elizabeth. "Do they mean to board us?"
Lane looked down as he heard Amazon give permission to Javelin to come aboard. Moments later, she was on the signal deck, breathing a bit heavily. She handed him an envelope, which he took. "What's this?"
"Commodore Falke sent it back. He said it would explain everything."
Raising an eyebrow, Lane quickly tore open the envelope and read the letter inside. His eyes became wider and wider as he read the message to its end.
"Well?" asked Elizabeth, tapping her foot impatiently. "What is it?"
He handed the letter to her almost absently as he turned to look at the Bismark. "Read it yourself, but the upshot is that this isn't just a sortie."
Warspite and Elizabeth leaned close as they read the message. Both looked up in shock as they finished.
Elizabeth's voice was almost a whisper. "It's an invasion."