Chapter 28- Plans
Gently glowing green, numbers flowed past Observer's eyes like a waterfall.
To a normal person, the cascade would have appeared entirely random. The figures didn't even conform to any single base number system- binary and hexadecimal appeared as much as base ten. Occasionally, Observer's eye would twitch and the stream would stop for a moment, only to start again when she had finished observing the data that had caught her eye.
Tester kept an eye on her as she worked on her own calculations. Observer had been much more her old self after being transferred from the corrupted vessel, but they never had figured out how the corruption had occurred in the first place. It would be a terrible hassle to deal with it again.
The river of numbers stopped, then faded. Observer turned to Tester.
"I think you'll find this analysis very interesting."
Tester said nothing, just nodded for her to continue.
Waving her fingers in the air, Observer conjured a graph. It wasn't strictly necessary to include a visual aid, but even in her normal personality the Siren had something of a flair for the dramatic. "These are the progression curves for the shipgirls as projected by reference to the base of their Wisdom Cube seeding."
The result was a graph that was linear, a straight line showing the increasing power of an awakened shipgirl.
"This," said Observer, calling up another graph, "is the calculated power curve of the shipgirls in this timeline."
At first, the progression matched the linear one fairly well. Then, in an unmistakable shift, it shot upwards, the rate of progression increasing rapidly.
Tester's eyes widened. "Exponential growth."
"Precisely. The question, then, is why this differs from the expected outcome."
"The Commanders. They are a variable I have not been able to account for."
"Yes," said Observer. "But how? There have been plenty of other examples of humans commanding shipgirls, or shipgirls even commanding themselves. What makes these Commanders different?"
After a moment's thought, Tester shook her head. "I don't know. The Commanders themselves, while exceptional, do not seem to have any qualities that place them outside normal human limits." She caught the mischievous glint in Observer's eyes and sighed. "You know the answer, or at least think you do. Just tell me."
"Affinity."
"Affinity?" Tester frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
"A Wisdom Cube manifests a shipgirl based on the unconscious thoughts, beliefs, hopes, and so on of all humanity, yes?"
"Of course," said Tester impatiently. "So?"
"I've been analyzing the nature of the interactions between the Commanders and the shipgirls under their leadership in more detail. It had not seemed a priority before. But there is a direct correlation between the nature of the interactions and the progress of the shipgirl herself. Put simply, the more affection-" Observer nearly tripped over the unfamiliar word "-the Commander and shipgirl seem to have for one another, the more effective they are."
Tester shook her head. "That makes no sense. Certainly, the Commander's unconscious mind would have an effect on the shipgirl's power just like anyone else, but surely not to the extent that we're seeing now. They are still, after all, only human- just one man."
"Have you ever wondered," said Observer suddenly, "why certain shipgirls are more powerful than others?"
The abrupt shift caught Tester by surprise, but the actual question was simple enough. "Because the man-made ships they were based on were more powerful, of course. The more powerful they were as normal ships, the more powerful they were perceived. This in turn translates to their shipgirl form." She paused, then added, "Naturally, their combat record factors into that, as well."
"Yes, but there are a few that are, based on their strength and perceptions, are more powerful than one would expect," pointed out Observer. "And some that are less potent despite being remarkably combat-effective as ships."
It was a fair point, as far as it went, but impossible to fully address. How do you quantify the collective unconscious of the entire human species? Tester had actually considered the question before- she suspected most Sirens had. She wondered if mass polling had been attempted on any time-lines.
"Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking," said Observer. "But just because something can't be precisely measured, doesn't mean it can be ignored. The reality remains that even if controlling for the variables such as weapons strength, combat records, and so on, there is a clear difference in which ships have more strength than others. So what does that leave as variables we haven't accounted for?"
"The Commanders," said Tester, the truth dawning on her. "Or, rather, those that commanded the man-made ships."
"Who would have more influence than any other human?" said Observer. "The captains that fought those ships in battle. Their crew, too, though I suspect the captain exerted more influence. We can't really analyze that variable, which is why we can't predict a shipgirl's abilities with any degree of accuracy."
"So," said Tester slowly, thinking the problem through. "The humans of this time-line have managed to select humans of superior ability to connect to these ships-"
"Probably deliberately, even if we don't know how they did so," interjected Observer.
Tester nodded in assent. "And now they are essentially forming relationships with the shipgirls that have a much more powerful influence than any one human could."
"Meaning...?"
"Their potential power level isn't unlimited, perhaps-"
"But as of right now, entirely unknowable," finished Observer.
They looked at one another, their emotionless faces not disguising the manic joy in their eyes.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Hey, batta, batta, swing, batta, batta!"
Belloni glared at Craven, who had kept up her relentless heckling throughout the game. She wasn't being malicious, of course. She just enjoyed the teasing.
It didn't make it any less annoying, though.
He stepped up to the batter's box and tapped his cleats with his bat, knocking off some dirt. Laffey, looking far more alert than usual, had managed a single before him. She gave him a thumbs-up as she saw him looking at her.
"Sa-wing, batta, batta. Hey, batta batta!"
The Commander wasn't here, which made things a bit worse for Belloni. The shipgirls had apparently collectively decided he was a sort of foster brother to them. There didn't seem to be any rationale for whether a given shipgirl considered him an older brother or younger brother, though in general their apparent ages seemed to apply.
"Ok, young man, watch the ball closely," said Nevada, who was playing as catcher. He was definitely considered a younger brother by her. "Remember to follow through on your swing. And watch the inside. You tend to crowd the plate too much."
"I don't think you're supposed to be giving the other side's batter advice, Miss Nevada," pointed out Belloni. He dug in, choking up slightly on the bat as he settled into his stance.
"Why not? It's all in good fun."
On the pitcher's mound, Bogue's eyes narrowed. She brought the ball to her glove as her eyes bored into Belloni.
"Right," he muttered to himself. He had watched Bogue wipe out a small squadron of Sirens in a single pass of her fighter contingent a few days ago. "All in good fun."
Bogue shook off the first signal from Nevada.
Belloni tensed.
She shook off the second. Then the third.
Nervously, Belloni glanced back at Nevada, who shrugged.
Laffey lead off from first, her eyes fixed on Bogue.
"SWING, BATTA BATTA!"
Belloni hadn't realized Craven had stopped her heckling until she started it up again at the top of her voice. He jumped just as Bogue wound up and shot a sizzling fastball right down the middle.
Recovering with the lightning speed he had learned playing ball as a kid, Belloni swung.
With a solid crack, he hit the ball, sending it soaring well over left field. He shot toward first base, glancing up as he neared the bag to judge whether he could make it a double.
It was possible, he judged. Cassin was right in the path of the pop-up, but it looked like she might have been caught unawares. He poured on the speed and rounded first.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Cassin didn't mind playing, exactly, but with Bogue on the base, she had honestly started getting a bit bored with baseball. She'd actually asked to be put in right field- it was the most relaxing position- but San Diego had insisted on playing and Bogue, defying one of the Navy's unofficial mottoes, had decided to place her well out of harm's way.
Standing somewhat listlessly in left field, Cassin mused about the Commander's meeting that had kept him from the game. The meeting must be important. All the fleet carriers and most of the battleships had been called to attend. Cleveland was the current de facto leader of the cruisers and had also naturally attended.
She knew they were moving out soon- the scuttlebutt was that they were headed to help out the Japanese fleet, though any more details than that were scarce.
Cassin wasn't really sure about the mission, to be honest. Sure, she never really wanted to do much of anything, but it wasn't just that. For some reason, she just didn't trust the Japanese. Every time she thought of them, she felt as if her fake eye was itching...
"CASSIN! HEADS UP!"
With a start, Cassin looked into the sky.
Something was coming right for her.
It took Cassin just a split second too long to separate her vague memories of being attacked from the air from her current position on a baseball field in Camp Pendleton. So, she reacted instinctively.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Belloni picked himself up from the ground once he was sure there weren't going to be any explosions. He dusted himself off and looked around anxiously to make sure everyone was okay.
Omaha, Raleigh, and Laffey had been closest to the detonation. The two cruiser girls looked shaky, but otherwise unharmed. Laffey, however, had been in a full sprint and hadn't had a chance to brace herself at all. She was lying between the pitcher's mound and home base, flat on her back.
Belloni swore and rushed over to her. He managed to beat even Nevada- Bogue was staring at the cloud of smoke that had been her baseball a moment ago in shock- and dropped to his knees next to the young destroyer girl.
"Miss Laffey? Are you okay?" Her eyes were open and not blinking. The Marine looked around wildly. "Corpsman!"
Suddenly, he felt a small hand grab his collar. He looked down to see Laffey, eyes half-shut. "Belli-" the nickname the girls had hung on him "-my left pocket." Her voice was hardly above a whisper.
Nevada waved at a group of on-duty Marines who were rolling up on a jeep to investigate the explosion. "I need a mechanic!" she shouted. "Damaged ship!"
"Belli-" Laffey's voice was pathetic.
"Miss Laffey!" Belloni grabbed her hand. "What do you need?"
"Left...pocket..."
Frantically, Belloni patted her down, finding that she did indeed have something in her pocket. He knew nothing about the shipgirls' medical needs- maybe she had something that would help her. He reached in and pulled out-
A small bottle of whiskey.
As he stared at it, she snagged it easily from his unresisting hand.
After a long pull at the bottle, she sighed happily and sat up. "That's better."
Nevada, standing over them with her hands on her hips, scowled at her. "Don't scare Belloni like that," she said. "He doesn't understand how tough we are."
Nonplussed, Belloni stood shakily. He heard a timid cough from behind him, and turned to see Cassin, her eyes downcast.
"So," she said nervously. "Should we just count that as a home run?"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Marne relaxed as Cleveland- who had immediately contacted the other shipgirls when the explosion shook the windows of the meeting room- explained what had happened.
"So is it a home run?" asked Hornet eagerly. "Because I bet a week's dessert on Belli's team-"
Marne cleared his throat, drawing an abashed look from the carrier. "If we could just move along...I suppose you are all wondering why I've gathered you here today."
There was a chorus of groans.
"Seriously, Commander," said Cleveland. "Do you have to say that every time?"
"Yes, it's one of those things that gets funnier every time."
The shipgirls just gave him dubious looks.
"Anyway, I have two big announcements. First, the War Department has finally decided that..." Marne paused for effect.
It had the expected result. Even stoic Enterprise tensed and leaned forward slightly.
"All shipgirls going to be given commissioned ranks. You're in the Navy for real now. My congratulations and condolences."
"Wow!" said Hornet. "I mean, I'm not sure what that means, but I guess it's pretty nifty-"
"Well," said Marne, "For one thing, it means you don't have to just bet desserts now. All fleet carriers are going to be ranked as Lieutenants, so you get a pretty decent pay bump. As in, you now actually get paid."
"Really?" Hornet smiled. "All right!"
"Arizona, you and the other battleships will start at Lieutenant as well. Cruisers are lieutenants, junior grade. Destroyers, ensigns."
"That's a whole lotta officers to create at once," observed Arizona wryly. "Sure the budget can handle it?"
"Well, even with a shipgirl's special requirements, you're all a hell of a lot cheaper than maintaining a normal ship," said Marne. "Those are the blanket commissions, but there are a few special ones as well." He stood up. "I'd prefer to have a more official ceremony for this, but- Attention on deck!"
The shipgirls leaped out of their seats and stood at attention with a snap that would put an Annapolis class to shame.
"Cleveland, front and center!"
Looking a bit nervous, she marched smartly to Marne.
"Attention to orders," said Marne. "The President of the United States, acting upon the recommendation of the Secretary of the Navy, has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity, and abilities of USS Cleveland. In view of these special qualities and her demonstrated potential to serve in the higher grade USS Cleveland is promoted to the permanent grade of Lieutenant, United States Navy, by order of the Secretary of the Navy."
Smiling, he pinned the rank insignia to her blouse. "There's also been a special dispensation made in the matter of your uniform, so I'll need you to figure out an appropriate way to display it."
Cleveland's eyes brimmed with tears, but she maintained her composure admirably otherwise. She saluted. "Thank you, Commander."
He returned the salute and nodded for her to return to her place by the table. "Enterprise, front and center!"
As she made her way to Marne, the other ships broke their military bearing, smiling and nodding at the carrier girl. The promotions themselves had been unanticipated, but everyone knew that Enterprise would be especially favored.
It was strange, Marne thought as he looked over the girls. There was no real jealousy among the shipgirls in the Eagle Union project. Enterprise was universally respected and looked up to. Cleveland might not have been the most powerful cruiser- not that she was in any way a slouch- but her position as a leader had been so naturally assumed that he had never once heard a word questioning it. Would the introduction of definite ranks affect this dynamic? He wasn't entirely sure this was the best policy from the standpoint of operational efficiency.
In the end, though, it was absolutely the best policy from the standpoint of showing the proper respect and gratitude to these girls that had defended the people of the United States with their lives. Which was why Marne had pushed so hard for it.
Enterprise came to attention in front of him, her lavender eyes steady.
Forcing himself to look into her eyes, despite the potential of losing himself in them, Marne spoke. "Attention to orders. The President of the United States..." he continued through the words from memory. "...is promoted to the permanent rank of Commander, United States Navy, by order of the Secretary of the Navy."
The room was silent, until pierced by a long, drawn-out whistle from Hornet. "Jumped two ranks in one go, eh?" said the irrepressible carrier. "Not bad, sis."
That was all that was needed. The girls immediately burst into applause and cheers as Enterprise's eyes grew wide.
"But, but-"
Marne had to admit it was kind of funny to see her so flummoxed. "You are my second-in-command," he said with a grin. "Naturally my XO will be ranked accordingly."
Carefully, he pinned an eagle to her shirt.
Enterprise visibly calmed herself, then saluted. "Thank you, Lucas," she murmured, an impish gleam in her eye.
Marne barely managed to salute back, only long habit coming to his rescue. She gave him a very un-military, very uncharacteristically coquettish smile over her shoulder as she returned to her place.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Give it back!" shouted Laffey, doing her best to climb Belloni like a jungle gym. "It's mine!"
Belloni tried to fend her off with one hand as he held the bottle of liquor out of her reach with the other. "You're too young to drink, Miss Laffey!"
"How many times do I have to tell you? I AM NOT A KID!"
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
After allowing the shipgirls a few minutes to congratulate Cleveland and Enterprise, Marne tapped the table again to get their attention.
"All right, ladies, now to the meat of this briefing. We are indeed going to link up with the Japanese."
No one expressed surprise. Aside from the rumors, there had been ample speculation in the press for those who kept up with newspapers and radio news.
"The Japanese have recovered somewhat after the reduction in Siren activity that occurred after the Battle of the North Sea. Commander, could you give me a map, please?"
It took a second or two for Enterprise to realize he was referring to her. She blushed slightly when it clicked and a holographic chart appeared, floating a few inches above the conference table.
"They're still short on supplies, particularly fuel," said Marne. "So we've got a few objectives to accomplish here.
"First, we're going to link up with the main IJN fleet to conduct joint operations. The goal is to be able to concentrate overwhelming force on any Siren fleet or installation we can locate."
"Question, sir," said Arizona. "What sort of installations do we expect out there?"
"Good question, Lieutenant." He was making a point of using their ranks. If they were going to be in the chain of command, they needed to get used to thinking in those terms. "That's our second objective. We'll be deploying multiple scouting flotillas to start investigating Pacific islands we've lost contact with. Mostly, we'll be focusing on securing sea lanes to Australia."
The girls nodded. Australia had been isolated for years. Even radio transmissions were extensively jammed by the Sirens. A few blockade runners- maybe one or two a year on average- made it through to update the rest of the world on their situation, but their situation was desperate. It was only Aussie bloody-mindedness that had gotten them this far.
"Finally, and probably most importantly in the short term, we have a massive convoy concentrating from ports all along the West Coast. I'm not real excited about this- it seems like we're putting all our eggs in one basket- but the brass has decided we need to strike while the iron is hot."
"Strike the eggs while the iron is hot?" said Yorktown, her face blank but a smile in her eyes. "May I suggest you mix your metaphors a bit more auspiciously?"
He gave her a level look and continued. "Siren activity has been consistently reported as historically low. And I mean that literally- there has been almost no activity, with fewer Sirens reported than any time since they first appeared."
"So it's quiet," said Cleveland.
There was an expectant pause.
After a moment, Hornet sighed. "All right, all right, I'll say it." She cleared her throat. "A little too quiet."
"Exactly what I'm worried about," confirmed Marne. "This drop in activity has been too quick. If there had been a more gradual reduction in their patrols and attacks, I might have been a bit more optimistic. As it is..."
"They could reappear at any time," said Enterprise. "And in great numbers. I've seen the force estimates- even if they had no reserves at all, they should have plenty of ships to continue operations well above their current tempo."
"So...all who think this is a trap, raise your hands," said Hornet.
Everyone raised their hand, including Marne.
"See, this is how you know you have a great command staff," said Marne. "We're all on the same page."
"Yeah, but I don't particularly like the page we're on," said Cleveland. "It's like we're halfway through the mystery and we don't know who the murderer is."
"So what do we do?" asked Hornet.
"What else?" They all looked at Enterprise as she spoke, her face thoughtful. "If we want to know what happens next, we look ahead in the book."
Marne cocked his head and frowned at her. "What are you thinking?"
She smiled back at him. Marne's heart skipped a beat at the lively look in her eyes. "Your bait of falsehood take this carp of truth. And thus do we of wisdom and reach, with windlasses and with assays of bias, by indirections find directions out."
Yorktown nodded in immediate understanding.
Marne put on a thoughtful look and stroked his chin. "I see..."
"You have no idea what she's talking about, do you?" said Cleveland amusedly.
"Not a goddamn clue."
"Hamlet," said Arizona. "Polonius says it to Reynaldo when he's going to spy on Laertes. It means figuring out the enemy's intentions without letting them know you're trying to do so."
"Oh, right, Hamlet. By, um, Christopher Mar-"
"Shakespeare," said Arizona, sighing.
"Christopher Shakespeare, right." Marne was not a literary scholar. Arizona opened her mouth, but apparently decided it wasn't worth the effort. "All right, Commander Enterprise, why don't you explain what you mean? Without resorting to quoting nineteenth century playwrights."
"Sixteenth century," murmured Yorktown. Marne ignored her as he waited for his XO to continue.
"Well..."
A/N: Sorry, that took a bit longer to write than I had expected. One reason is that I finally started to play the game (that is, Azur Lane) after around two years of inactivity. And for some reason, couldn't connect to my old account. So I'm starting over. Yeah. I guess there's a certain charm in it, but I keep looking for, say, Enterprise to put in my formation and remembering that I don't have her yet.
Hopefully the wait was worth it. I enjoyed writing the baseball sequence, at least.