Operation Rumor Mill

by DeltaDestroys01

A codebreaker and his ship girl companion are tasked to hunt down and destroy siren superweapons that are holding humanity in a deadlock. Though these superweapons are secretive in their own right perhaps something more sinister will get to humanity first? Or maybe there is a link between threats? Rated M to give myself breathing room in the creative process; adult themes mainly.

33. Chapter 33: The Burden of Knowledge

Thanks to all who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. Let's get moving along with this story shall we?

Disclaimer: I don't own Azur Lane or any other properties I make references to.

"The greatest minds are capable of the greatest vices as well as of the greatest virtues."

- Rene Descartes, French Philosopher, Scientist, and Mathematician

Chapter 33: The Burden of Knowledge

The Deep Seer wasn't the sort that is given to juvenile behavior such as throwing a tantrum. Setbacks happen to everyone. Besides it's not like they were expecting their grand plan to be pulled off without a hitch. So, left without a physical way to vent, they instead had a headache. And though it hurt to think deeply, they muscled through the pain to ponder the state of things. The Knight Guardian was dead—soundly defeated by the magician. It was supposed to be impossible because quite a number of things had to line up just right for the Deep Seer's enemy to be able to win. And on top of that, the Siren response to this development did not help matters. But what was to be the Heralds of the Deep's response to the loss of a guardian?

There was a knock at the door to the Deep Seer's office and they arose from their seat, relieved to finally have their first of two visitors arrive. "Yes, just a moment," the Deep Seer called out as they approached the door to open it. It was notable that they said this in English because that was the only language that all they and their two visitors shared. They opened the door and was immediately able to see who it was that arrived first. Upon first glance, two things stuck out about the first arrival's appearance; the ostensible wearing of a lab coat denoting a scientist and the man's race showed to onlookers that he was Sakura. He appeared to be in his mid-forties with a lightly wrinkled face and black hair whose flanks were beginning to gray with age. His expression was neutral, but The Deep Seer knew this man, Tetsuo Shimizu, to be one of devotion to whatever he dedicates himself towards. And that's why he was perfect to join the Deep Seer on this little venture of theirs.

Switching to the new arrival's native tongue of Sakura, The Deep Seer welcomed this new guest. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Doctor. As I'm certain you're well aware, there has been a change in the state of things. The Sirens have made their move and now you, me, and the colonel need to need to figure out ours."

"I'd raaaaather not ha-a-a-ve been bothered in my lab, but-t-t-t-this is important eeeeenough," stated Doctor Shimizu as plainly as he could. His state was worsening.

But the Deep Seer ignored this and responded, "The work you do is critical for our success. If I could have avoided doing so, I wouldn't have called for you. Please, come in." Once that was said, the Deep Seer stood to the side and beckoned the shorter Sakura man into their office. They then led Shimizu back to their desk. On their way, The Deep Seer paid attention to Doctor Shimizu's gait. The Doctor's limp had worsened as well. Regardless of this difficulty, the scientist remained standing as the Deep Seer rounded the corner to sit in their seat first. Only then did Shimizu sit. Once both were sat down, the Deep Seer asked, "Did you see the colonel on your way in?"

"His helicopter l-l-landed as I was walk-k-king into the complex. Unless he g-gets lost, I predict that weeeeee will not have to wait-t-t long for his arrival."

"Very good," concluded the supreme cult leader. There was a moment of silence between the two and in the absence of speaking Shimizu had begun looking off into space thinking deeply about something. The superior knew that the doctor's thoughts were about some project because that's just the kind of person that he is. While the Deep Seer did believe in survival of the fittest, they weren't such a hardliner in that mindset to see that there was no room for friends. They spent a few seconds observing Doctor Shimizu. The doctor had deteriorated slightly since the Deep Seer paid attention to him last. He had a persistent quiver to his lip and a small amount of spittle dribbled from the corner of his mouth but this was promptly wiped away by the doctor's own sleeve. One of his eyes twitched incessantly and there was a slight tremor to his latex gloved dominant hand. From what had been seen so far, verbal communication was also becoming more difficult and the limp that Shimizu has had the whole time the Deep Seer has known him has also worsened. It seemed that his experiments' neurological damage was beginning to mount. But despite his physical form having issues, his mind seemed largely intact. As casually as they could, the Deep Seer asked, "Doctor?" Shimizu's attention turned to them. He continued, "How have you been?"

A light came upon Doctor Shimizu's countenance and for the first time today, he smiled. He happily reported, "Eeeexcellent-t-t-t. My research is mov-v-ving forward steadilyyyyyyy and I have a number of weapon desiiigns that are approaching the prot-t-t-t-totyping stage."

"That's wonderful news Doctor," lauded the Deep Seer, but then they added on, "However that isn't what I asked. How are you doing? Not your projects."

Doctor Shimizu's mood did a complete 180 and irritation showed on his face. His teeth gritted and the spittle seemed to double or triple its production which cascaded down his chin. In a raised voice, he literally spat out, "I said, 'Ex-x-x-x-cellent-t-t-t-t,' and I m-meant-t-t- it! I am noooot a liar!"

The Deep Seer wiped a small drop of saliva from their own face that had rained from their friend's mouth. In an even tone to try and calm the Sakura man, the Deep Seer replied, "Reality is not yet subject to us, so I will not ignore your deteriorating state. From what you tell me, your mind is as sharp as ever, but…"

The Doctor's rage grew exponentially and his mouth hinged open to bellow just that, but his tough failed him and rather than coherent words, a wordless howl like an animal's, left Shimizu for just a split second. He had lost his ability to speak. The yell stopped after a split second when the doctor slammed his fist down onto the Deep Seer's desk before reaching into his lab coat. He produced a cylindrical auto injector that he held up to an artery in his neck and then depressed the button on the end of the injector. There was a single hiss from the pressurized device and unseen, a stream of a personally developed medicine began to reach the Doctor's brain, treating and mitigating his mounting neurological damage.

Shimizu visibly calmed and returned to sitting straight in his seat. Most, but not all of his trembling was gone. He wiped his spit and it did not return as quickly nor with nearly as much ferocity as it was before. He began to explain, "But this fleshy husk is starting to give out. As you just witnessed, I recently developed a treatment for my condition. It isn't perfect, but I can probably keep at the pace I'm going for another few years. But a solution that's resistant to the deleterious effects of prolonged wisdom cube experimentation is on the drawing board and would be preferable to have sooner rather than later." His stuttering and slurring was gone and the articulate Doctor Shimizu that the Deep Seer had befriended had returned.

The Deep Seer spared him a thin smile then nodded deeply before they complimented, "You're a true hero, Doctor Shimizu."

Shimizu scoffed. "I'm no hero," he asserted, "I'm a scientist. That's why I'm here. And when we win, any amount of pain will have not been in vain."

"Well said Doctor," concurred the superior.

Not a moment after finishing that sentence, there was another knock at the door. It was the final expected visitor. "Come in!" hollered the Deep Seer, returning to speaking English. They weren't as close to this visitor to bother opening the door for them.

The door opened forcefully and in walked a hulking unit of a man. The man was pushing two meters tall and had muscles that bulged under a slightly too small military uniform that demonstrated the complete opposite of Doctor Tetsuo Shimizu. After his sheer size and basic uniform, the next two things apparent was lightly tanned white skin and a black non-uniform cowboy hat.

Shimizu observed with sarcasm dripping like spit, "As I live and breathe, Colonel Ethan Conroy! We're saved!"

The door closed, rather slammed, to show how upset that jab made Colonel Conroy. "Can it, twitcher!"

Before their two subordinates got into another yelling match that would just aggravate their headache, the Deep Seer arose from their seat and loudly exclaimed, "Gentlemen! There's bigger tasks at hand than our thoughts toward one another!"

Doctor Shimizu turned forward in his seat with a smug look on his face. His victory at getting a rise out of the colonel, an intellectual inferior, pleased him immensely.

For his part, Conroy had to take a breath or two to calm himself down from doing something overly rash. He did mutter some obscenity that was unheard to the other two occupants of the room, but it did the trick in getting himself calm. He approached the desk and after removing his hat, he sat down in a chair beside Doctor Shimizu on the opposite side of the desk from their leader. "Seer," he greeted plainly as he sat.

Only once Conroy was seated did the Deep Seer return to their seat. They offered their own pleasantry with, "I'm pleased you could make it at such short notice. Some things have changed, and we need to discuss our plan moving forward."

And so, the unholy trinity of seer, scientist, and soldier was assembled to discuss their continuing efforts of yoking their enemies down to the bondage of their will and pleasure.

To make sure that he knew what was going to be discussed, Conroy asked, "Is this about that Magician guy and his shipgirl running around in the UK?"

"Unfortunately, it is," admitted the Deep Seer. But then they pressed the colonel, "Has your spy network uncovered any new information about this man?"

"Chatter among regulars in the Royal Navy speaks of a 'Calico Jack,' who is known to have all sorts of supposedly magical powers. But that's not too surprising. There have been effective military commanders in the past that have gotten reputations of larger than life abilities…"

Suddenly, Shimizu interrupted, "Like yourself, Colonel 'Custer' Conroy?"

Among the military of the Eagle Union, being associated with the late General George Armstrong Custer is an insult, for such a man's campaign is an exercise of brutal futility. Following the conflicts with the natives of the Great Plains of the central Eagle Union, General Custer became a controversial figure as one reported to not distinguish between combatant and non-combatant. But there is agreement on at least one thing about General Custer. His defeat is famous. In the Battle of Little Bighorn, Custer along with his men would be surrounded and made to go extinct.

But when the name of "Custer" came to Ethan Conroy's ears for the first time while his brigade was fighting in Europe during the last war, rather than be instantly repulsed and deeply insulted, he considered the name. The more the thought of it, the more he loved it. War was destructive and it could give man incredible power over life and death. He craved that power and lusted for it as a drunkard searching for more drink. And fate be damned, he wasn't dead yet. He also derived no small measure of pleasure from defying death and so long as his unit wasn't shot out from under him, who cared if a city or two was removed from the map?

Regardless of the fact that his insulting nickname didn't insult him, there was still the fact that Shimizu had interrupted him. So, looking to his side, he commanded, "Shut the fuck up."

Before Shimizu could respond, the Deep Seer came to Conroy's aid, levelly requiring, "Please remain silent while the colonel is reporting."

The doctor didn't say anything in response, but he did fold his arms and slid down in his seat just a tad. It was good enough for the Deep Seer to gesture for Custer Conroy to continue.

He obliged by picking up where he left off. "This guy goes by different names to different people. But as to his real name or anything else useful, we have no clue. Roscoe and Hara got us good this time in completely scrubbing this guy from any record. But whoever he is, he must not have ever been anyone important. Even our own internal records which go back over a year give no clue. It isn't helpful that with the loss of the London Branch before they could make any report means we have no physical description of this man to ease the search for information."

"This foe is worse than we had supposed. Even worse than we had feared after the loss of the London Branch," said the Deep Seer. "The Knight Guardian was engaged in battle by this man with a fleet from the Royal Navy, and it was soundly defeated. We have lost another guardian."

Custer Conroy gritted his teeth and anger creased his brow, but he remained silent. Doctor Shimizu's arms unfolded and he straightened in his seat. He spoke, "It's like you warned in a vision. The successor to Hans Kerper is not to be trifled with. We must accelerate the development of the Idols before there's no more guardians to provide us with the information we need."

To that, Conroy did reply, "Those 'Idols' are supposed to be the backup. They're the Hail Mary when all else fails and you know it."

"Do you have any better ideas?" fired the doctor back.

"Yes, actually. We kill the bastard, nice and simple. Fuck his name. Fuck what he knows. Just make him past tense and the problem is gone. Poof. Abra-fucking-cadabra."

The Deep Seer got their attention saying, "It's crude. But it's also effective. Where is this man now?"

"We saw the shipgirl that he's assigned with, Nashville, pulling into Plymouth Harbor less than twelve hours ago. We can assume he's on base, but as for anything specific, we don't know. But that's not all. First Sea Lord Arthur is going to Plymouth to use the shipgirl launch facility with the wisdom cube recovered from the London Branch. Grayson Roscoe and Doctor Anzeel are also en route, presumably to oversee the launch."

Priorities suddenly shifted and Shimizu gave word to it saying, "We need that cube back before it's lost. All other objectives are secondary."

The Deep Seer concurred, "I agree. Killing our enemy would thrill me, but without that cube, long term victory becomes that much harder. Colonel, what options do we have?"

Silently, Conroy thought for a few seconds with his fist tapping his chin. He looked the Deep Seer in the eye to say, "The largest guarantee of success would be to dip into our stockpile of chemical weapons. Eradicating everything alive on the base would give a small CBRN team plenty time to find and snatch the cube. A more normal frontal attack is ill advised. The shipgirls would tear them apart. Or…" He looked to his side towards Doctor Shimizu, "Trust me, I hate to recommend this, but could you spare a few men? Given what we know about the launch of shipgirls, inserting a group of scientists into the launch facility and having them take the cube, make an escape, and blow the place to high hell with planted bombs could work."

Doctor Shimizu didn't like that recommendation. There were too many parts that could fail. He looked to the Deep Seer, hoping that they would see reason and go with something like a gas attack. They pressed the colonel with, "We need Roscoe alive, so killing him is out of the question. He's predictable. The one who's been designated to succeed him as supreme commander in the event of his demise is too impulsive to anticipate effectively. But a team of untrained operatives is risky. Is there truly no better option than to insert a few scientists?"

Conroy returned to his thoughts for a few seconds. "If we had more advanced notice, we could have staged an assault on Martin Arthur's transport directly, but his plane took off before we could get any agents aboard. And because Roscoe's presence precludes the 'killing everyone' option, then no, It looks like we have to take a desperate measure here. It's a dilemma. We can try to recover the cube and have a pretty good chance of failure, or we can do nothing and have a guarantee of failure."

The Deep Seer sighed deeply saying, "Doctor Shimizu?" The man in question perked up slightly. They continued, "How many scientists in the UK can you spare?"

"I could spare any of them. How many do you need?"

"Half a dozen," butted in Conroy. Then he amended his statement with, "Make that five. I'll give one of my own agents to be number six. At least one of them will know what they're doing. Their orders will be to recover the cube with killing the Magician as their secondary objective. I'll also work out specifics for that plan, just get me in contact with those five asap."

The Sakura man gave the Deep Seer his best, "Do I have to?" expression. He still didn't like the plan. "Do as the colonel says," they ordered.

"As you wish," he conceded.

Silence descended among the three again for short time, but it was the Deep Seer who broke that silence. "The Sirens have already responded to the loss of their guardian."

"What did they do?" asked Conroy.

For the first time in a long while, anger and hatred came to the Deep Seer's face and tone of voice, "They must be toying with us. They have presented us with the Argonautica Guardian to use and order around as we wish."

"It's a Trojan Horse," observed Doctor Shimizu. "Although, it would give us valuable data to aid us in developing the Idols."

"I think we should kill it the first chance we get," opined Conroy. "Keeping it is a risk we can get away with not making."

Hatred heating their blood to boiling, The Deep Seer arose from their seat. They stepped back from their desk to look out a window of their office to see a pristine beach leading to the sea. They smiled thinly, the sea always did calm them down nicely. A small part of them wished for the simple times to return; times when they could sail with little care for the world. But those times were gone. Only the duty of saving humanity and their own ambitions remained. They looked back to the still seated men on the other side of their desk. "When I received word from Observer of this development, I went to my own wisdom cube and had a vision. I saw a burning city with its inhabitants fleeing for their lives. I looked down a street and nearby me, I saw you Doctor. Beside you stood the Argonautica Guardian. At the other end of the street stood another pair facing us. It was the Magician and his companion shipgirl, Nashville. The smoke was so intense that I couldn't see his features, yet I knew it was him. Embers rained down between you two and I could feel nothing but anger. But then billowing smoke obscured the street from my eyes, I heard a flurry of gunshots, and the vision ended. We've seen how effective folklore is in inspiring faith among the religious section of this organization of mine, so I've already dubbed this nameless man as the 'Demon Lord.' If this demon lord survives the religious sects of the Heralds of the Deep, and if he slips through the covert and military forces of Colonel Conroy, then it will fall to you Doctor to destroy him and save our work. I intend to place the Argonautica Guardian under you. Continue as you are for now and keep a very close eye on the guardian, but be prepared to leave your lab to confront the Demon Lord and his companion."

Determination dominated the scientist's expression. He quivering ceased momentarily and iron came to his voice. He swore, "I will be ready."

"I'll do my part too," asserted Colonel Conroy. "As you've said before when you've had visions, the future is still in motion, so if it can be avoided, I'd rather not rely on Shimizu's wonder weapons. We'll give killing the Demon Lord our best shot."

The Deep Seer smiled sinisterly. "Good. We have work to do. But fear not. Doubt not. The Deep favors us."

XXXXXXXX

The next morning came and went with an attempt by Nashville to break the normal routine by suggesting that her and her commander go into the port for breakfast. She justified it by pointing out something Las Vegas had told her once; that all the worst days of his life began routinely. He couldn't find a flaw in her logic, so they did as she suggested. Unsurprisingly, the square reserved for the local shipgirls was as lively as ever, and Calico Jack was as popular now as he was the few previous days. But that didn't stop the duo from finding a table at a restaurant staffed by manjuu workers.

It didn't take long for company to find the Union duo. Cheshire arrived bringing her native cheer and bounciness to the table. Tempering this would come in the form of Glorious accompanied by Ardent. But mealtime commenced happily, made so by the presence of friends.

Unfortunately, while Supreme Commander Roscoe's arrival was predicted for the evening, there was no warning for an estimated time of arrival for Admiral Sir Arthur. Though he didn't voice this concern, Las Vegas tried his hardest to force this thought out of his mind so that he could properly enjoy his time with friends. In an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts, he allowed his view to shift around the table. Cheshire had just said something humorous, and that made Nashville try her hardest to keep from guffawing. Glorious was smiling brightly and Ardent beside her was giggling. The lightness of the atmosphere naturally bettered his own mood and he himself couldn't help but smile. For moments like these, maybe it wasn't so bad having to give up his name or his official existence. He found himself leaning back in his chair a bit to look upwards away from the crowd a bit.

Still taken in amusement, Nashville's view shifted to her commander without thinking about it. He wasn't laughing like the three other people at the table, but she saw his smile and she knew him well enough to know that he was content and at peace. Her laughter left her and not in a bad way. In it's place came what had to be joy. She was with her commander, they were alright, and for just a moment, everything was alright in the world. She heard him say, "Feels good man," and she had to agree with that. Nashville reached her hand out to give him a tap on the arm and tell him something, but she happened to see that on the other side of her commander out into the crowded square, Sheffield was walking purposefully right for their table. Good feeling now gone, Nashville still reached out and tapped her commander on one of his arms.

"I wouldn't speak so soon," she warned. Before he could ask what she was talking about, she pointed towards Sheffield who had picked up her pace just a bit after being noticed.

"Me and my big mouth," deadpanned her commander, upset that he had unwittingly tempted fate.

Sheffield had arrived and offered the barest of pleasantries. "Excuse me," she offered the group. But then looking squarely at Calico Jack, she informed, "Her Majesty has requested your presence as soon as possible."

"What for?" inquired the man.

"She wishes for your presence when she welcomes Admiral Sir Arthur to the port."

Without really thinking about it, Calico Jack glanced down at his plate. It still had some food left, but he had eaten enough that given the circumstances, he'd be willing to abandon it. It wasn't like there was much of a choice anyway. He then looked to Nashville. Her expression was muted, but he could tell that she was annoyed by this turn of events. "We'd best get going then," he told her.

"Yeah," she said in a resigned tone. He food wasn't quite as far along at her commander's was, but she knew that abandoning meals had to happen sometimes.

The duo pushed their chairs out from the table and stood up. As they did, Calico Jack offered an apology for having to leave abruptly. "Sorry for having the bail out on you three. We have to do this again sometime."

"I'd really like that," agreed Glorious. Ardent nodded along with her.

"Oh yes, we have got to do this again!~" bade Cheshire. But she went the extra mile and stood from her own seat.

Accurately gauging her intentions, Calico Jack stepped out from the table just slightly so that he wouldn't bump into his chair. He held out his arms slightly and sure enough, Cheshire wrapped her arms around him for a hug. It was a pretty quick one, more comparable to a casual, "see you later," among friends than anything more intimate. Once it was done, Cheshire stepped around Calico Jack and repeated it with Nashville.

Calico Jack heard Cheshire begin to say something to Nashville, but he was distracted when Glorious said something unexpected, "Can I hug you too?"

The response was easy. "Sure thing. You don't even have to ask."

He watched the uncertainty melt away from Glorious's face and she rose from her own seat. She had to go a bit further than Cheshire had, but he still took a step or two to meet her half way. Much more gingerly than Cheshire, Glorious also brought him into a hug. She wished the moment could last, but as she was looking to the side, it seemed that a number of the local shipgirls were eyeing her enviously. Without really thinking, she shrunk out of the hug before long. She tried her hardest to hide how embarrassed she felt and she looked towards Calico Jack. He was sending her a thin smile, and that calmed her. "See you later," she bade him.

"See you," he replied. He looked over his shoulder and Nashville gave him a thumbs up that she was ready to go. He nodded to her and as he stepped away from the table, he said his goodbye to Ardent as well, which Nashville emulated. Now with his attention to Sheffield, he ordered, "Lead the way."

"Yes, Master," she answered. But then wordlessly, the maid then led them away from the cafe, across the square, and onto the path that would lead the trio to Queen Elizabeth's office.

Once they were far enough away that nobody could over hear them, Calico Jack asked, "When do we expect the first sea lord to arrive?"

"Imminently," plainly stated Sheffield.

Nashville gave voice to something that she had been dwelling on all morning. "This is crazy. The first sea lord, the supreme commander, the creator of us shipgirls, your guys' new commander. I can't help but wonder who else is gonna show up before long."

Even though Nashville's last sentence was clearly sarcastic for she didn't expect anyone else to show up, she was wrong. Sheffield informed them, "Her Majesty also wished for me to inform you that a fleet of shipgirls from the Iris Orthodoxy has set sail from Saint-Nazaire. We expect them to arrive tomorrow morning."

Echoing her commander from earlier, Nashville deadpanned, "Me and my big mouth."

Her commander picked up where Nashville stopped by saying, "That's a surprise. Do we know what for?"

"To play a part in planning the coming battles presumably," Sheffield stated.

"Makes sense to me," admitted the officer. "But it's certainly something to look forward to. I can't say that I've ever personally met anyone from the Iris Orthodoxy."

For how bad the undertones of what Nashville originally said were, meeting someone from the Iris Navy wasn't so bad. She was kind of curious to see how they are. So, she agreed with her commander with, "Honestly, I'm right there with you. I kind of look forward to this."

Sheffield remained silent and in her presence, the Unionist duo also slipped into being quiet. Before too long, they left the wooded path and approached the hall that had Queen Elizabeth's office and throne room. Before they even reached the hall, the front door opened and Belfast held the door for a train of people, beginning with Queen Elizabeth, then going through her court, and ending with Sirius.

"There you are, Calico Jack!" called the teenage-looking monarch. "Admiral Sir Arthur's aeroplane landed early and he himself is arriving here any moment!"

After getting close enough to not have to raise his voice, the lone man hazarded a guess, "Is it just me, or does he seem to be trying to catch us by surprise?"

"I suspected the same as well," she affirmed. But then with a devilish smirk, she laid out her plan. "But I do hope his business isn't so urgent that he can't take the time for an inspection guided by myself while we await the supreme commander to arrive later today."

"That's a lot better plan that what I had for delaying him."

Nashville butted in, "You had a plan for delaying Admiral Arthur from doing anything?"

"No I didn't. That's why hers is a lot better."

The admission brought amusement to the more lighthearted elements of the crowd, but to Queen Elizabeth herself, it brought immense satisfaction. She then ordered, "Then don't dally any longer. We must be off."

"We're beside you the whole way," consented Calico Jack.

XXXXXXXX

"Good morning, Admiral Sir Arthur. It is a pleasure to have you with us today," said Queen Elizabeth as diplomatically as she could.

"It's a pleasure to see you again after so long," replied the admiral.

Following that statement, Nashville felt no more need to listen to any sort of proceedings. She didn't much bother with the proceedings between Admiral Arthur and Queen Elizabeth. Besides, she knew that her commander would be paying close attention so she could grill him for info later on. So, she looked around the surroundings of this rather ornate looking entry gate in the outer perimeter surrounding the section of the naval base at Devonport that is allocated for shipgirls. The gate appeared like that of Buckingham Palace when she and her commander had been able to see it that first day that they had been in London. Although this one didn't appear nearly as ornate. The perimeter was also of note. While tall enough that a normal human would be hard pressed to climb it, it was not so tall that a shipgirl couldn't clear it with ease. A wall that tall would need to be higher than the deck of a hull from the surface of the sea.

Curious to see the outside workings of the base, Nashville peered out through the open gate. It looked as mundane as a large military installation can get. Rather than have a view into somewhere interesting like repair yards or training grounds, there were instead just administrative buildings with the road that led up to the gate. There was also Admiral Arthur's motorcade that had two cars and one van. She was willing to hazard guesses for who might be in at least two vehicles. Based on the car that Arthur got out of to greet Queen Elizabeth, that one must have his command staff along with himself. One of the van's doors swung open and out stepped a royal marine. But this man was notable for having omitted the expected assault rifle instead having a pistol in a holster on his hip. A chief of security most likely. But as for what the other vehicle concealed, she had little clue aside from the most basic assumption of personnel and supplies.

Oh shit! Admiral Arthur was approaching her and her commander. Act natural. Now with her attention squarely on Arthur, Nashville was able to see his displeasure. Far too soon, the admiral arrived and stopped squarely in front of her commander. Nashville looked to Las Vegas and was proud of him. His poker face was truly something to behold for how devoid of tells it was. Nevertheless, there was still some decorum to follow, this was the military after all. Her commander saluted the superior officer and said, "It's good to see you again Admiral."

Admiral Arthur saluted back in that foreign palm-out way that Nashville was unfamiliar with. He replied, "It's a pleasure to see you too Commander." But everyone could tell that greeting was for naught but appearances. He was actually displeased to see the Unionists. The salute fell naturally and the superior went right for the throat concerning his business with Unionist officer. "Has Supreme Commander Roscoe ordered you to obstruct my business with launching a shipgirl?"

"He ordered me to avoid doing that very thing without his presence."

That made Admiral Arthur look relieved and pleased. He dismissed, "Good. Then we have no further business."

He made it only one step away from Nashville's commander when the whine of a gasoline motor began to thrum through the air.

"Oh God. Not her," whispered Admiral Arthur.

The whine grew louder and the pitch began to rise as whatever vehicle was attached to the motor drew closer. Nashville peered through the open gate, and around a corner screeched a motorcycle like it was some sort of race. It accelerated towards them and to show the relative lack of trust for this rider, the crowd naturally parted to the sides of the road with the marine stepping in front of the admiral along with resting his hand on the grip of his weapon.

But the rider didn't blow through the crowd and the gate, rather they slowed and came to a stop right next to the lead car of Admiral Arthur's motorcade. For just a moment, Nashville got to take a look at the motorcycle. It was sleek and fast looking. The motor had practically screamed as it was coming towards them. She loved it and suddenly wanted one really badly.

The rider upon the most basic of observations was clearly a woman given the shape of her body. She had on a pair of gray Capris, a riding jacket, and a backpack. But whoever she was was still obscured by her helmet. The rumble of the idling engine was shut off and a kickstand was laid to the ground. The rider dismounted, and raised her hands up to remove her helmet. She did so and gave everyone a view of her face. From under her helmet cascaded long brown hair that had streaks of gray in them. She had burgundy half-frame glasses and a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh my God! Queen Elizabeth you're so cute!" proclaimed the mystery woman. But before any questions could be voiced, she quickly moved to meet the queen whom she took into a large embrace. Queen Elizabeth then did something unexpected. Rather than recoil at having been touched as Nashville would normally expect, the monarch wrapped the woman in her own hug as far as her arms would allow.

She said, "I'm relieved that you came Doctor. You're presence is always welcome."

Nashville figured that this must be that one Doctor Anzeel that Roscoe had told her and her commander about the day before.

"Well, of course I'd come! Someone has to to help everyone see reason around here!"

Once Doctor Anzeel had completed her embrace of Queen Elizabeth, she took time to greet and embrace every single shipgirl present. All eight of them from the Royal Navy and then she finally arrived in front of Nashville. Doctor Anzeel's gray eyes were starry when she said to the lone Union shipgirl present, "I remember you. You're Nashville. I haven't seen you since the day you were launched. You're every bit as beautiful as I remembered."

Because Nashville had been able to overhear Doctor Anzeel compliment other shipgirls, she had been able to prepare herself and not be surprised by such a statement. "Thanks. But you're Doctor Anzeel?" she asked.

Doctor Anzeel nodded. And then like with every other shipgirl present, she held out her arms for a hug. Nashville decided to oblige the woman. And besides, she wanted to give her one anyhow. While they were in the embrace, Nashville whispered into Anzeel's ear, "Thank you for bringing me back."

Anzeel's embrace tightened slightly. "You're welcome," was her response. But then the hug ended and Anzeel continued, "I'd really like to get to know you better. But there's pressing matters to attend to."

"I understand," forgave Nashville. She liked Doctor Anzeel already. She was personable, pleasant, and she noticed shipgirls first.

Finally, there was one other person that Anzeel cared to be introduced to. After all, there was only one officer present that didn't have a Royal Navy uniform. "And who are you?" she inquired to Commander. It was notable that while Anzeel's tone had lost the tenderness that she had used for the shipgirls, she still came off as respectful to this last stranger.

Las Vegas wouldn't deny, that question left him in a strange spot because there really was no good answer. Who was he? Well, he could be anyone. But to Doctor Anzeel he would be, "I'm Nashville's commanding officer."

Nashville was blindsided by that statement. She had a tendency to think of her commander as well, "her commander." So hearing him say that much made her all sorts of excited. It made her stomach flutter about like there were butterflies inside it and heat came to her cheeks. She had to get herself under control quickly because people were watching. So, she contended with the oxymoronic emotions of panicking about trying to get herself under control.

Her emotions went unnoticed to Las Vegas because he wasn't looking at her. But they were noticed by Doctor Anzeel, who couldn't help but be disappointed. Looks like a relationship with Nashville is already off the table. That's too bad. But at least there are many other shipgirls that can be pursued. Regardless of Nashville's state of already being taken, there were Doctor Anzeel's thoughts of Nashville's commander. Aside from the obvious physical trait of being pretty tall, she saw that he had a critical eye that hid intelligence and willpower, but his expression betrayed nothing else to the genius doctor.

"Wait…" stated Doctor Anzeel. She thought for a moment or two before making the appropriate connections in her mind when she continued with, "You're that guy aren't you!" Rather than have a measure of awe, it sounded like Anzeel just had a eureka moment.

"Possibly. What guy are you thinking of?"

"Calico Jack. That one navy officer who's been hanging around the UK for some time now."

"Yep. That's me," he admitted.

Anzeel nodded deeply for a second or two. She looked back to Nashville and asked with a straight face, "Has he been treating you right? I'll kick his ass if he hasn't."

For the first time since Anzeel arrived, Admiral Arthur spoke up. "Doctor. Striking a military officer is a punishable offense. Threatening to do so is also punishable."

His words proved to fall on deaf ears however, as the doctor made no response, nor did she make any indication that she even heard the superior officer. Instead, she remained looking expectantly at Nashville.

For his part, Las Vegas was torn between liking Doctor Anzeel and not liking her. Seeing her conduct with the shipgirls made him like her. Also seeing her be on good terms with her creations made him like her. He thought that her entrance was kind of cool. He also liked that she didn't appear to respect Admiral Arthur all the much. There was also something that he was much more neutral about. The doctor was tripping his gaydar. He has been wrong before in matters like this, but something told him that Anzeel was either bisexual or a lesbian. But that really didn't matter to him. What did matter is that he didn't like being threatened. But he had, and it looked like the proceedings were now in Nashville's hands. For just a moment, he doubted her, and he berated himself for that. Nashville was his friend and the person he trusts the most in this sanity-deprived reality he had found himself in. So, he remained quiet, hoping for Nashville to come to his aid.

Fortunately for Las Vegas, his silent doubt was in vain. Nashville had his back. Her face became plastered with one of her radiant smiles and she raised one of her hands to plant a big pat right onto the square of his back while she declared, "This is my favorite captain that I've ever had. He's never done anything except treat me right."

Doctor Anzeel's countenance visibly lightened and she relaxed from her previous state of being ready to throw it down. Her relief became even more apparent when she said, "That's great to hear. Eagle Union officers treating shipgirls right isn't a given." But before anything else could be said, the doctor returned to looking at Las Vegas. She held out her hand for a handshake and she finally introduced herself properly, "I'm Doctor Tova Anzeel. I spearheaded the research that created shipgirls."

The nameless commander didn't have to consider how to proceed for more than just a moment. He reached out to meet the Doctor's hand. They shook as he took his turn to introduce himself, "I don't have a name anymore. But calling me 'Commander' or really anything you can come up with is fine."

The handshake broke off and Doctor Anzeel observed, "Call it a sixth sense, but I think I have a knack for noticing intelligence. What do you do?"

Even though he had the authority to break off the conversation, he elected to see how far this talk would go. "Cryptography," he answered plainly. "I'm a mathematician."

Anzeel perked up a bit more. She continued, "Interesting. What did you study?"

"Statistics and Probability. But I also dabble with Calculus and Algebra."

"Are you a doctor?"

"I wish I was. The highest along to that I got was a Master's Degree."

Now Anzeel's eyes narrowed slightly. She probed, "What was your Master's Thesis on?"

"Chaos Theory."

Now Anzeel looked impressed and probed, "It's clear that your operation is classified enough that it got your real name expunged. How classified is it?"

"It's a tier seven operation."

A big smile plastered Anzeel's face and she confessed, "I've been begging both Roscoe and Hara to give me someone to help with a project or two. But apparently it's hard to find someone with the right clearance and credentials. But I think you'd fit the bill nicely." She took a breath and asked, "Would you be willing to take a glance at something that I'm looking into?"

"Sure. I won't deny, I'm curious to see what you're working on."

Now, Anzeel appeared positively giddy at the prospect of having an assistant, but there was one other thing to ask, "That is fantastic news. But will you be hanging around here for some time?"

"At least until Supreme Commander Roscoe gives me and Nashville our next orders."

"Good. I can work with that. I'll talk to you later about what it is."

"Sounds good," he consented easily. Working alongside the creator of shipgirls was an exhilarating possibility. Whoever Tova Anzeel was, she definitely had her hands into some pretty interesting and esoteric research. And how could any self-respecting academic such as Las Vegas resist?

Introductions finally complete, the doctor turned her attention squarely to the last person that she hadn't talked to yet. She didn't mince her words. "Arthur you dumbass. Why the hell are you here?"

Those who knew her were well acquainted with her antics, but the Unionist duo were caught unaware by Doctor Anzeel's bluntness and for just a second, they had to fight back smiles and laughs. Fortunately both managed to maintain their constitutions and neither laughed. Nevertheless, their expressions clearly showed how close they came to breaking down.

To say that Admiral Arthur looked annoyed would be an understatement. He looked furious. Still, he hadn't gone up the ranks in the Royal Navy by losing his composure. In a quick moment, the fury was gone and he stated, "I'm here to do my duty to ensure the continued security of the United Kingdom." He wasn't lying when he said that. Even though it looked to him that nobody believed him, he had no impure intentions. He merely wanted to uphold his oath to the Queen of the United Kingdom that he would do his part to defend the realm. Why was it so hard for everyone else to let him do that?

"Now you're a fucking dumbass," bestowed the doctor. "Take it from the creator of the shipgirls and the world leader of wisdom cube research that what you're doing is a terrible idea. You have no clue what you're doing."

With that said, the admiral just looked like he was done with this. He said as much with, "We're done here." He turned to regard Queen Elizabeth again, who had been content to watch Doctor Anzeel rake him over the coals. He continued, "You said that you have business that needs my immediate attention?"

Queen Elizabeth rose to the occasion and continued with her original words that she had been using when Doctor Anzeel's arrival interrupted her. "Yes. You are overdue for an inspection of this base. I and my entourage will escort you around for the proceedings."

The admiral considered this for a few seconds. It is true that he had been overdue for this for a while. But it was obviously a trick to delay him. What is the delay for? The arrival of Grayson Roscoe? Possibly. But fortunately, he was presently picking up the new commander for the Devonport shipgirl contingent and that had taken him all the way to Liverpool. Depending on the method of travel that Roscoe uses, Arthur might be able to launch the shipgirl before Roscoe arrives. But at the same time, the admiral understood something else. He was skating on thin ice with Queen Elizabeth when he considered his dealings with her. And whether he liked it or not, being on Queen Elizabeth's good side made his job much easier in the long run. He sighed out, "Very well. I will accompany your majesty for an inspection of the facilities under your care."

"Excellent. I'm certain you'll find our home to be in tip-top shape."

The various vehicles were then moved to a small parking area on the shipgirls' side of the gate. What was notable was that in the parking lot, there was already a black sedan parked there. Las Vegas couldn't help but wonder who it was for. But the already parked car didn't hold his attention for long. Soon everyone had piled out from the vehicles and that allowed him to see what each vehicle contained. The lead vehicle that had had the admiral inside it had a security officer as driver and a pair of people who were presumably part of his staff. The other car had more members of the admiral's staff. The van had security personnel. But right on cue, another rumbling engine came down the road that led through the gate. Everyone looked and saw another van. Arthur huffed out, "Finally. There they are." This van parked adjacent to the other and its door opened to allow what had to be ten people out. Based on appearance, these people were technical staff.

To part of his security and all his technical staff, Admiral Arthur ordered, "Go to the launch facility. Give it a thorough inspection and ensure everything is operational."

There were answers to the affirmative. Arthur turned his back and the group started to leave. But as they were going, Queen Elizabeth leaned towards Sheffield and quietly ordered her, "Go with them. Ensure that they don't get lost. And make sure that nothing gets broken in the facility."

Sheffield understood what wasn't being said. She nodded and left to follow after the group.

That left the remainder of those present to begin the inspection. Even though she hadn't been explicitly invited to take part, Doctor Anzeel was the most excited to begin. She was exceedingly desirous to meet and interact with more shipgirls.

Queen Elizabeth got everyone's attention to begin by speaking in a raised voice, "Ladies and Gentlemen. Please follow me."

Everyone did as they were invited and followed the teenage-looking monarch towards the town that had been erected for the shipgirls of Devonport.

XXXXXXXX

The group wondered around seemingly without aim for the remainder of the morning. Lunch came and went and the inspection continued apace. But it was never boring because everywhere she went, Doctor Anzeel was welcomed like a celebrity. But she didn't take her popularity and look down upon those shipgirls that were met. Rather, it seemed that the codebreaker's assessment of Doctor Anzeel from earlier was true. He couldn't pin down the doctor's exact sexuality without asking, but one thing was certain. She loved women. A lot. She must have asked about a dozen of the local shipgirls out on dates and most accepted her offers. A small part of him envied her because she had game while he felt so driven to uphold professionalism. But of course, this wasn't all that she did when interacting with shipgirls. She was always courteous and for the time that she had their attention, she made absolute certain to make them feel like they were the most important person to her. It was abundantly clear as she took time to speak with the obscure and the shy girls that Tova Anzeel was a good person.

Las Vegas had been content to just watch Doctor Anzeel's conduct whose presence did the wonder of making him fade away from the public view. But fortunately for him, it seemed to go further than that because nobody had business that involved him and he was pleased with the change of pace. He always had Nashville beside him and she always made for a good conversation partner when nothing else could entertain.

But as the afternoon wore on, two questions came to her mind. "Hey Las Vegas," she said quietly to catch his attention. She didn't want it to be very public when she doesn't use the word "commander" when referring to him for some reason that escaped her.

He looked her way with a, "Yeah, what's up?"

"What's a Master's Thesis?"

"A Master's Thesis is a long term—two to three year long—research project that students in Master's Programs undertake. It can be on just about any topic as long as it's related to what you're studying."

"I know you said that you did yours about Chaos Theory, but I gotta say that a name like that doesn't sound very math-y to me. What even is Chaos Theory?"

Las Vegas hummed for a moment or two and confessed, "That's a bit of a loaded question, but I'll try to give it a good explanation. First, I'd like to explain a Chaotic System. A Chaotic System is something which appears to be random, but in reality is extremely sensitive to the starting conditions. An example of a chaotic system that you're familiar with would be the weather. Have you ever noticed that weather reports only go out to about a week and even then they're not very accurate more than a few days in advance?" Nashville nodded, successfully following along. So, he continued saying, "The weather is chaotic in that on a given day like today, that being a typical overcast English day, there's a reasonable assumption that the weather will follow a predicted pattern for a time, but speaking hypothetically, lets say it starts to rain like crazy in a week. But on any other day like today, what if there's a minuscule difference in temperature or barometric pressure? In that circumstance, it's entirely possible that the weather a week from then would be a sunny day. Chaos Theory is the study of these changing systems and how their starting conditions impact those systems." He paused for a moment following that to let it sink in for his companion and then asked, "Do you understand?"

Nashville had to think on that for a few seconds. She followed up with, "So, is it kind of like how if I were to take a snowball and roll it down a hill watching it get bigger and bigger on it's way down?"

"Not really," he answered. "Another common way that popular culture approaches chaos theory is with something called, 'The Butterfly Effect.' The basic idea goes that a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can create a tornado in Kansas. They're two things that seem unrelated, but there's the implication that in a system that's big enough and complex enough, such a small seemingly unrelated event can trigger something else. But here's something that's a bit more applicable to you and I. What if we had met a day earlier or a day later? What if meeting a day later means we'd both be dead by now while meeting a day earlier means we'd have succeeded in our mission by now? Some things would probably have been very similar to what we have gone though for a time, but then the realities would diverge into something completely different."

Now Nashville had to ponder this "butterfly effect" for a few seconds. She replied, "I think I get it." After a few more seconds of thought, she postulated, "Does this mean that with a super complex system, you could predict the future?"

"Conceivably. You could probably see the past as well. But it would be astronomically difficult to produce some a system. If you can somehow hammer down exactly what every single starting condition along with knowing how everything reacts to everything else, you could in theory predict the future. But keep in mind, the information you're dealing with is the very fabric of reality and every little detail contained therein."

"That's one hell of a tall order for a system."

"Right, you are. But it's definitely something that's fun to think about." Suddenly, Las Vegas seemed to snap ramrod straight and his eyes widened with a realization. He let out an awed, "Oh my God. How did I not see it earlier?"

Nashville was startled by this sudden change in her commander. She was seriously concerned with whatever had him this way. "What's going on?" she pressed in a hushed tone.

His view turned to look to those who were with the duo for the inspection. Queen Elizabeth was doing a good job as a showman keeping Admiral Arthur busy. And it seemed that among her court, they were able to pick up the slack with keeping his staff distracted, but his security wasn't taking the bait of beautiful women, so it wasn't safe to speak about anything classified. As he was looking around, Las Vegas found his eyes lock with Belfast's. She also looked concerned, and that told him that she had overheard everything. He considered if he should tell her what terrifying thought just came to his mind. She's already proven herself to be a great ally. He felt a nudge to his arm and he looked back to Nashville. "I think we should trust her," she opined, having noticed the Head Maid's own look.

Las Vegas nodded slowly and he beckoned the maid over with a motion in his hand. Belfast obliged. The whole group remained walking, but within seconds, Belfast had gotten close to the two Unionists. She didn't say anything, but she was clearly paying attention.

The commander tipped his hand ever so slightly by whispering, "I think I just realized something big. There's too many people to share it here, so I want you," he gestured to the maid, "to join me and Nashville when we meet the supreme commander later today. Also extend the invitation to Duke of York. I'd like to get as many as are in the know onto this as possible. It's about business."

"Understood, sir," acknowledged the maid. "Is there anything else you wish to share for now?"

He dismissed her with, "No. I'm good for now. Thank you."

Belfast nodded deeply and returned to where she had been in the walking group.

"I have a bad feeling," confessed the Union officer to nobody in particular.

"Take a guess about how I feel. I don't know what you're thinking," vocalized Nashville, his trusted friend.

Las Vegas couldn't think of a good response to that, at least not one that would help Nashville feel better about being in the dark. And she certainly did look concerned with her eyes going straight forward and a light frown. But if there's something that he's learned about Nashville, when words fail, there are other options, he could always give her a hug or something like that. But then again, there were a lot of people around, and while he'd be willing to give hugs with just other shipgirls around, he couldn't hazard a guess how Admiral Arthur or one of his staff would react. Well, it looks like words are required then. He reached out and patted her shoulder, getting her attention. She looked his way and he began to speak. "I won't lie to you and say that everything's right with the world because it isn't. But I firmly believe that we can do something about it, so I don't think we need to start despairing just yet. Besides, you and I, we're a team. And a really good one too if I do say so myself. We've managed to beat everything that's come against us so far, so keeping that momentum going is something that's totally possible and within reach."

Automatically, Nashville tried to poke holes in her commander's logic. She felt her memory return to them getting surrounded at the Battle of the Thames or her going off without her commander during the London Incident. But miraculously, things always turned out well. Her concern was diminishing, but a small part of it remained to allow her to point out, "Some mistakes have been made. We've gotten lucky a few times."

"You're right. But there's something else that's worth considering. We're still learning—getting smarter, wiser, and tougher. We can count on the enemy to bring their best, but we'll be ready for them because we're just getting warmed up."

Now a confident smirk had displaced any concern on Nashville's features and Las Vegas knew he had succeeded in making her feel better. But then she did what Las Vegas had decided not to do. While they were still walking abreast to one another, Nashville drew close and wrapped one of arms around him to draw him into a sideways hug. She offered her gratitude with a quiet, "Thanks, Las Vegas. You always know what to say."

In that split second between Nashville hugging him and his response, it felt like everyone's eyes were on them. In reality, it wasn't that bad, but the action most certainly didn't go unnoticed by onlookers. But still, Las Vegas wasn't going to allow such a gesture to go unanswered, especially when it came from Nashville. So, he did just that and draped his own arm across her shoulders. "No problem," he answered nonchalantly. "I got your back," he added on.

"I know. And I got yours."

Hearing her say that filled the man with confidence that no matter what, he and Nashville would be able to take anything on and win. Talk about lifting his own mood and Nashville wasn't even trying. That has to be one of his favorite things about her. She's able to help him find his own courage.

The hug broke off and the inspection continued, but fortunately, it didn't go on for much longer. But rather than lead the group back to the main hall, Queen Elizabeth instead lead everyone back towards the gate that the day's proceedings had started at.

It was immediately apparent as to why. Two new vehicle had appeared in the small parking lot, these ones were both black Land Rovers with tinted windows. All the doors on one of them opened at the same time as three doors on the other. The first land rover had been populated by a squad of familiar Royal Marines. And the second had only three occupants. Lieutenant Commander Janice Larcom exited from the driver's seat. The mustachioed visage of Supreme Commander Roscoe came into sight as he came around from the passenger's side. Needless to say, his presence was very much welcome among the shipgirls, Anzeel, and the Unionist duo. But following Roscoe was a final third man that nobody knew.

"Is that who I think it is?" came from Nashville.

"Yeah, I think it is. The new commander for the Devonport shipgirl fleet."

Immediately following his response to what Nashville had said, Las Vegas then began to pay very close attention to the proceedings. It was something else to see two men of exceedingly high rank being unable to properly order around the other. In consequence, the atmosphere grew heavy with conflicting interests. Nevertheless, both Grayson Roscoe and Martin Arthur were nothing of not professionals, and despite the departure of opinion, both did indeed reserve respect for the other, for no man can see another ride out the storm of crisis effectively and not have some respect for him.

"Supreme Commander Roscoe, what a surprise it is to see you here," began Admiral Arthur. He didn't sound surprised in the slightest.

"I am certainly pleased to have ran into you, Admiral. We have unfinished business to attend to," replied Roscoe.

Admiral Arthur naturally appeared displeased because he knew exactly what Roscoe was talking about. He was still against launching a new shipgirl. But rather than get into a public debate with another officer Arthur answered with a dignified, "I understand. We will discuss our differences in opinion later. But I see that you've brought the new commanding officer for the shipgirl fleet here at Devonport. Or am I mistaken?"

"You are correct," Roscoe affirmed. "You've met Commodore Belanger before have you?"

"I cannot say that I have," confessed the First Sea Lord, who turned his attention to the new arrival.

Commodore Belanger was a stocky man who appeared to be in his mid-forties with well tended blonde hair. He had eyes that were blue like the ocean and his face appeared fatherly. His expression betrayed little, but this wasn't a surprise given whose presence he was in at the moment. He saluted Admiral Arthur and introduced himself, "I am Commodore Gerald Belanger. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." His voice was really deep and it took onlookers aback.

The salute was returned and Arthur replied, "The pleasure is mutual, Commodore." The salute fell and he continued to say, "Supreme Commander Roscoe has a talent for selecting competent people. I suspect you'll do well in your new assignment."

"Thank you, sir," said the commodore.

Roscoe recaptured everyone's attention when he remarked, "Excellent. That introduction is taken care of. But there are many more that must be seen to immediately." To Arthur, he invited, "Admiral, would you be so kind as to join me in introducing the commodore to his new command?"

"Certainly," easily consented Arthur. He was curious to see how Belanger would react during what he presumed to be the new commanding officer's first meeting with a shipgirl.

The trio of men began to move for Queen Elizabeth and her entourage but everyone was reminded of someone in their midst. "Now hold on just a second," Doctor Anzeel commanded. Surprisingly, the three Royal Navy officers did as she said and stopped. The doctor marched up to the three and stopped inches in front of Commodore Belanger. "Now listen here and listen well. I ever hear rumors that you're mistreating any of the women you're going to be in command of, no god or government is going to stop me from wringing your neck. Understand?"

For his part, Commodore Belanger appeared largely unfazed by the slightly statured women threatening him to his face. To Roscoe he asked, "Who is this?"

"This is Doctor Anzeel. She's the one who is credited with creating the shipgirls."

Then Admiral Arthur added on, "Even though her threatening is not allowed, I admit that her concerns aren't unfounded either. There have been instances of mistreatment with varying levels of severity documented."

Commodore Belanger grew pensive for just a moment as if deciding how to proceed. But once that decision was made, he finally offered his response to Doctor Anzeel. Sincerely, he said, "I understand your concerns. I promise that I will do nothing but the best for those under my command."

Doctor Anzeel took a few seconds of narrowed eyes and cynical outlooks to digest this promise. Truth be told, it was really the best that she could ask for at the moment, except maybe being allowed to make the selection herself for a shipgirl commander. But that was a bad idea for the main reason that she was no military leader. So, she accepted the commodore's words with a brisk, "Good. See to it then." She stepped aside to allow the three officers to resume their walk to meet the shipgirls of Devonport. As they passed, she offered a quick greeting to Roscoe.

The Unionist duo would have paid attention to the first meeting, but Las Vegas noticed Larcom had begun to approach them. He noted that she didn't salute him even though he had the superior rank, but he didn't make a stink of it. If things were normal, he'd still be a Lieutenant Junior Grade anyway. He greeted her saying, "It's nice to see you Lieutenant Commander. How have you been?"

"I've been well," she answered, "It's always a pleasure to see the both of you. How about yourselves?"

Nashville answered for the duo, "We're doing alright. A bit better actually, now that the supreme commander is here."

"I can imagine. There are many strong personalities and high ranks in our circumstances isn't there?" Right as she had completed saying that, Larcom's expression went from pleasant to business-like and she continued, "The Supreme Commander has your printed orders and will give them to you at a later time. But right now, I was tasked to pass this along to you, Commander."

She held out a plain white letter-sized envelope. Commander accepted it and inspected the outside for anything written down. There was one word. "Shinano," it read. He understood immediately that it was the letter written by the foxgirl aircraft carrier who has extra-sensory perception that had been mentioned by Hara over the phone. "Thank you," he said plainly while he accepted the envelope. He felt along its length, just in case there was something that wasn't paper inside that he didn't want damaged. He only felt paper so he folded it in half and slipped it into one of his pockets.

Once that action was complete, Larcom had a comment she wanted to share. "During the last war, many reports came to the office about Azur Lane naval officers struggling against the sender of that letter. Please be careful."

"We will," promised the commander.

"Yeah. And thanks for the warning," added on Nashville.

"You're welcome. I'd like to do my part to ensure the success of your operation, after all."

There was just a moment of silence and that made the commander wonder aloud, "So, it was your idea to include a manual about explosive ordinance disposal when we received that big crate of supplies?"

"Yes, it was," Larcom answered.

"I don't know when it'll come into play, but good call. Very clever," lauded Las Vegas.

"Pardon for seeming to brush off the compliment, but I feel you'd need the cleverness more than I. I won't be the one disarming explosives."

He shrugged and said, "Yeah, fair enough."

Conversation tapered off naturally, and the group returned to looking at Commodore Belanger meeting Queen Elizabeth and her court along with a few maids. It was difficult to see exactly how it was going, but nobody had been yelling nor could onlookers see any frowns or the like. So, that must mean that things are going well.

Nashville had a bad experience the last time she met a shipgirl commander from the Royal Navy. She considered an overview of all the Royal Navy officers she'd met. She really liked Roscoe and Larcom. She liked the late sub-lieutenant Talbot. She had mixed feelings about Admiral Arthur. But the only officer she'd immediately hated was Commodore Smithers. Regardless of any past experiences, she felt an exhilaration come to her that wanted to meet new people. So, she nudged her commander knowing he'd be content to just stand there. Now with his attention, she said, "We should go meet the guy."

Las Vegas thought for a few seconds, shrugged his shoulders once again, and replied, "Whelp. I can't think of any reason not to, so might as well."

Nashville smiled and was immediately walking while Las Vegas lagged for just a moment to excuse themselves from Larcom. But once this was done, he picked up his pace for long enough to come abreast to Nashville for their approach. The duo slipped into the group of royal shipgirls but their appearance was most certainly noticed for Queen Elizabeth herself quickly cut off any sort of speech she had about expectations or responsibilities to introduce the arriving pair. "Commodore Gerald Belanger, this is Commander and Nashville. They are visiting us from the Eagle Union."

Salutes were exchanged and the commodore offered, "Charmed. But pardon the curiosity, will the two of you be under my command?"

Supreme Commander Roscoe jumped in to answer that one. "No they will not. They are under my command but do expect to be working alongside them in the very near future."

"Yes, sir," acknowledged the commodore. But then he zeroed in on the lone union officer and looked to his uniform, presumably to search for a name on it. Having found none, he then inquired, "Commander, why do you not have a name?"

"It's classified, I'm afraid," the man with no name replied. Internally, he sighed. Here they go again.

But before things devolved into a guessing game with a pinch of mind games sprinkled on, Queen Elizabeth humphed loudly to regain the commodore's attention and then said in an annoyed tone, "Perhaps I should have introduced him differently. Are you aware of the rumors surrounding an officer called, 'Calico Jack?'"

"I thought those were just that—rumors." To his credit, Commodore Belanger appeared to be taking all of the past few minutes in stride for his answers were level. Meeting warships turned women and then figuring out that the most recent spat of scuttlebutt was indeed true are things that can upset that levelness, but not the Commodore. He then felt to further investigate the rumors he'd been hearing. "But are the magic and other fantastical things true as well?"

"It's just smoke and mirrors Commodore," Calico Jack answered vaguely.

"I'll take your word for it then. Many things seem fantastical as of late."

"I understand that. I've been there too. Things will work out though. I haven't spent very much time here, but I can tell you that you have a good command. There's a lot of high quality people around here."

Queen Elizabeth visibly swelled with pride at that compliment. This didn't go unnoticed by Commodore Belanger, who already had gotten a firm handle on Queen Elizabeth's character. He smiled to her and said, "That's quite the vote of confidence, Your Majesty. I look forward to working with the shipgirls of Devonport."

"And we too, look forward to working with you. We…"

The Unionist duo's attention was lifted when Roscoe himself gestured for them to speak to him.

"Excuse us," the union officer said to the nearest shipgirl to him, who happened to be Prince of Wales. She nodded in response.

Roscoe has also waved over Larcom and both parties reached him at the same time. To Larcom he ordered, "Speak for me, Leftenant-Commander."

"Yes, sir," she responded without hesitation and then went to where he had been standing in the main group.

That distraction for them allowed Roscoe himself to take the duo aside a short distance while avoiding the softly chatting clot of Admiral Arthur's staff. They were private enough that Roscoe felt he could speak vaguely, "It is always a relief to see the two of you in a single piece." He reached out for handshakes with both in the duo. "Your efforts have been a great service to the public at large. But something has been weighing on my mind, and I would like to share it with you."

Such an admission was concerning, but Nashville beckoned him to speak saying, "Go on. What's on your mind?"

"You two are at the point in your operation that your predecessors failed at. Two objectives have been reached. I fear that the third will be not just more fierce, but will be actively seeking you to destroy you."

The duo understood that Roscoe was referring to the fate of Operation Argonautica and how after defeating two superweapons, a third was what ended the operation and killed almost all those involved.

"We'll be careful," promised Commander.

"It goes beyond just taking care," contradicted Roscoe. "I would be thrilled if you two took extra caution. But I also want you to be prepared for anything. Even things that we have not considered seriously before. For example, a Siren attack on land."

An idea came to the commander, he requested, "Sir, I'd like to ask permission for the authority to order Nashville to use rigging on land and in public should the situation call for it."

The supreme commander hesitated because doing so went against so many regulations and international agreements. Not to mention how difficult it would be to cover up. Nevertheless, Roscoe had to face the hard facts. Commander and Nashville were humanity's last best hope. He sighed heavily and consented with, "Very well. But do so only as a final recourse when no other options are available."

"Thank you for trusting us," offered the commander.

The old man then appeared to have lightened from the completion of his business. Less stressfully, he replied, "Of course. Now, I know that we had spoken over the telephone only yesterday, but I wish to congratulate the both of you once again for your recent victory." The duo offered their gratitude and then he gestured back towards the main group and continued, "But I suspect that we'll be missed from the proceedings. Shall we return?"

"Just a moment," inserted Commander. "I was discussing something with Nashville a little earlier today and I had a realization. It's business related. I'd like to share it with you and Nashville and if you permit it, two shipgirls from over there. I'm hoping that they'd spread the word to the other shipgirls who participated in the London Incident."

"Which ones from over there?"

"Duke of York and Belfast."

Roscoe considered the request. It concerns the London Incident and thusly the Heralds of the Deep. Belfast and Duke of York were quite capable and a worth-while allies. However, there was another part of him that considered denying the request because the Heralds should not involve more shipgirls than absolutely necessary. But at the same time, shipgirls are a huge asset in any fight, so it might be prudent to keep at least a few in the loop even if they aren't actively participating. The superior nodded and again he said, "Very well. Once proceedings here are over, we will allow everyone else to leave but bring Duke of York and Belfast over and then we will chat inside the car I arrived in. There is little other place private enough."

"Excellent," voiced the commander in acknowledgment.

Wordlessly, the three people rejoined the rest of the group and participated as much as they were able. Nashville found that she actually liked Commodore Belanger. Or at least had a favorable opinion of him. But Las Vegas was out of it trying to come up with how he was going to explain his thoughts to the others. He went back and forth on how for so long that Queen Elizabeth had finally suggested that the entourage leave and get moving for the town and the commodore's new office. That required the group to go to the back of the Land Rover that the commodore had arrived in. The trunk was opened and the commodore's belongings bound for his office was taken up by himself alongside being distributed among the maids. Gentlemanly conduct would have had the men of the group step in, however, those in Admiral Arthur's staff weren't very welcome and neither was the Admiral himself given the circumstances. But Roscoe and Las Vegas had to stay behind. But it went a step further. Las Vegas tapped Belfast on the shoulder as she was about to pick up her load. He nodded to her and she understood what was about to happen. She organized the redistribution of her load among Sirius and Sheffield to whom she whispered something else, found Duke of York, and they joined with the Unionist duo and Roscoe. This was noticed by Queen Elizabeth who frowned at not being included. Nevertheless, the monarch marched away with her train in tow. At last, the group was alone.

"Thank you for joining us the both of you," offered Roscoe to Duke of York and Belfast.

"'Tis our pleasure," came from Duke of York.

"We are pleased to be involved," said Belfast.

"The commander has informed me that he has something he wishes to share with us. Therefore, let us speak inside the car. It is the most private place that can be prepared on such short notice."

There were words of agreement and affirmation before the group got in. Automatically, Roscoe was drawn to the front left. Belfast and Duke of York selected the middle bench. At Nashville's beckoning, her commander opened up the front right door while she'd join Belfast and Duke of York. He opened the door and marveled, "Woah. I forgot about that. The driver sits on the right side in the UK." But once her was finished with that, he and Nashville finally got in.

He reoriented himself in his seat to be facing Roscoe as much as he could and he began, "So, I think I've found out what the overarching goal of the Heralds of the Deep is."

Immediately, everyone else understood the secrecy. Nashville and Belfast were able to put two and two together because they had heard his explanation of chaos theory earlier. Ever unflappable, the head maid did well to maintain her composure. Nashville wasn't quite as capable, and her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes had widened. Nevertheless, there were two people who weren't privy to all the facts and speculation.

The commander began to explain, "So, what I have to say is purely speculation, so let's hope that I'm wrong on this. Still, I think it's worth sharing." From there, he began to walk the vehicle's occupants through what Chaos Theory is and what it entails for predicting the behavior of systems. He made sure to give due credit when Nashville had suggested a system complex enough to predict the future and see the past. Finally, he concluded, "Immediately following me regaining consciousness after the London Incident, Nashville and I were in Supreme Commander Roscoe's office to discuss what had happened. The Supreme Commander said something that I think makes an awful lot of sense given the fact there was also a Herald presence in Miami that the FBI was so generous to take care of for us and there's no reason to believe that there isn't more of them around the world. We're assuming that what happened in London is just part of a smaller network that we were lucky enough to catch unprepared. Through their obvious capability to warp reality as they please, they have a work around to the limitations imposed by Chaos Theory. We had thought that their goals weren't so grand in scope; that they just wanted to change something in the here and now. I remember the cultist in red saying something about defeating the Sirens. That may be true, but that doesn't change the fact that they don't need to care about starting conditions anymore. They don't even need to worry about the system and its laws because they'd be in control. I believe that the Heralds of the Deep are trying to set themselves up as literal gods. The past, present, and future would be theirs and we'd be powerless to stop them."

Silence descended with oppressive power over the car and its occupants. The commander had returned to looking forward through the windshield, but he felt a hand softly place itself on his shoulder. He knew it was Nashville because she had been right behind him. Without thinking, his own hand reached up to hers and gave it a squeeze.

Roscoe was the first to speak. "Dear God," he gasped out. Everyone looked towards the wizened old man who appeared so feeble as he sat there. Never before in his whole career as an officer that spanned decades and crises and wars had he felt so powerless. Rank did nothing for him in this moment. And there was no hole deep enough he could hide in that would conceal him from any god.

When Roscoe failed to say anything else, Las Vegas pivoted in his seat to take a look at the three shipgirls in the bench behind him. Nashville looked the worst. Her brow was creased and her eyes were widened significantly. But she still tried to hide it, having taken special care to at least keep her mouth closed. She had retracted her hand from his shoulder as he began to pivot and now they were wringing in her lap. Belfast appeared perfectly statuesque and her expression was like stone. Nevertheless, she regarded the officer wordlessly, just waiting for him to speak next. Duke of York appeared tired for she was leaned forward and she held her head in her hands thus preventing him from seeing her face. She leaned back upwards and resignation dominated her features. She opined, "Of a certainty, I had preferred the Nazis as mine enemy. They had uniforms and sought conquest not godhood."

"Sir Calico Jack," said Belfast.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There are fellow maids here in the UK, in Gibraltar, and in Australia. I would like to place them at your disposal. All of us in the Royal Maid Corps are capable in matters involving subtlety. I had been considering offering them up to assist against the superweapons and Heralds should they be needed, but now I'm certain they are needed. All of them are trustworthy. Please, use them as you wish."

Duke of York next made a similar offer. "Thou canst rely upon us knights in like manner. Throughout this realm, where a maid resides, so does a knight of Her Majesty."

"Thank you both for the offers," he replied to the knight and maid. But because these offers of help were extended in the presence of Roscoe, his permission was needed before Las Vegas properly responded. He looked at him and saw that his state had been unchanged. "Sir?"

Roscoe's head turned slowly and almost creakily towards him. He ordered, "Accept their offers Commander. We are no longer in a position that has the luxury to reject offers of help. I fear we may have realized this too late."

The younger man attempted to console the other by revealing, "Don't worry sir. I've been gathering up help as I go. Several shipgirls that Nashville and I have met have given us figurative blank checks that allow us to call on them for help should they be needed."

Suddenly, chuckling supplanted the old man's fear. For a few seconds, that was the only sound to be heard in the car and it was creepy. Nobody could guess if that meant he was relieved or not. It stopped on its own naturally and seeing his own deficiencies as a military leader, he almost accused, "How do you do it? The instant something bad happens, how do you have a contingency on hand?"

"Uh. Is that a rhetorical question, sir?"

It actually wasn't, but the old man saw plain as day that the commander himself didn't know so he craned his neck to look at Nashville. She could only shrug out, "I watch him work and even I don't know for sure. He thinks a lot, but that's all I can guess."

"Hmph. I suppose that's the best I can ask for," deadpanned Roscoe. His tone shed itself of its previous edge but her remained serious when he reported, "You have no new orders relating to this matter. Continue as you have been. I trust your judgment and your capabilities."

"Thank you sir. Are you opposed to sharing this speculation with the others who participated in actions against the Heralds?"

"No. As much as I dislike the idea, it is as I said. If they are willing to help beyond what has already been rendered, then we ought not to refuse them."

"Understood," concluded the commander to his superior. He now returned his attention to Belfast and Duke of York to say, "I'll have to take the both of you up on your offers. I'll organize communication with you both at a later time though. Does anyone have anything else they want to add?"

It was Nashville who came to the rescue with words of encouragement that seemed oddly familiar to her commander. She promised, "The game isn't over just yet. In fact, we're just getting warmed up."

Roscoe smiled and remarked, "I will take your word for it then."

Words of agreement came from Belfast and Duke of York. But following that conclusion, the five people left the car to take the trek to join up with the rest of the group with whom they would pass the rest of the day. Dinner came and went. It was decided between Roscoe and Arthur to finally settle their differences of opinion about the launch of Charybdis the following day immediately after the conference with all the military forces that are to participate in the coming campaign. Roscoe ordered Doctor Anzeel along with the Union Duo to be present. Following dinner, Las Vegas and Nashville took the time to seek out every member that took part in the London Incident to share what had been speculated. Then without express approval, they sought out Glorious as well even though she was just there to fight Mordred.

All of them without fail volunteered that they would continue the fight should they be called. Among them were reactions ranging from certainty and determination down to timidity. Nevertheless, none would stand idly for their hearts and minds knew a threat when they saw it. And seeing the opportunity, Las Vegas got around to sharing her personal cipher with all of them.

The day had been long. But business had been completed. All, save one thing. When the duo had arrived on Nashville's hull to retire for the night, Las Vegas proposed, "Would it be alright if we take a look at Shinano's letter together real quick?"

Nashville's answer was an automatic, "Yeah we can do that."

Surprisingly, rather than climb ladders to the bridge, Nashville led the duo only to the passageway that linked their respective quarters. "I don't feel like climbing ladders right now," she justified herself.

"Fair enough," replied her commander. Then, Nashville did something that he wasn't expecting. She leaned against a bulkhead, and slid down it until she was sitting on the deck with her legs pointed outwards. She bent one leg at a time at the hip and knee and removed her high heels. Las Vegas averted his eyes as her skirt shifted, but when she looked up at him expectantly, he acted. He came to her side and slid down to come sitting immediately beside her. He fished Shinano's letter from his pocket and asked, "Do you happen to know anything about Shinano?" She shook her head to say she didn't. "Well, I guess we're going to learn something now," he ventured while he unfolded the letter. He tore open the envelope carefully and noticed that there were two pieces of paper. He removed them both and picked one to unfold. He had selected the one that was the letter itself. It read:

"Shikikan,

I am called Shinano, an aircraft carrier of the Sakura Empire. If the forces of fate would have permitted it, this one would have preferred to meet in person. Alas, we have important matters to discuss and time waits for no one.

I have been blessed with a great gift for when this one lays down to slumber, dreams appear before me. Many possibilities and warnings are made manifest before my eyes. Of late, these dreams have been dark, foretelling naught but ill omens and great tribulation that may befall those things that this one holds dear. In the past, darkness has come and gone as the tides, nevertheless my heart confesses to harbor great fear for the future. Lately I have seen death and a new dark age spread across the face of the Earth. It spreads from the heavens, across the land and the sea, and down to the depths. It saddens this one to report that nothing living is spared. However, it is not my aim to harrow up your mind to the awfulness of the scene that has plagued me these past few nights, for I have found hope.

While the moon last shone and this one slumbered, I was accosted and surrounded by horrors beyond description whose source I cannot guess. But as despair was about to come upon me and I was to abandon myself to oblivion, I looked to the west and saw light. It was faint and I feared it should be extinguished. But picture my joy to see it grow and approach me. The horrors around me fled like rats caught in the sun. I peered through the parted darkness and I saw a man with a banner that I did not recognize. That man was you, Shikikan. Behind you were companies and crews of men, women, and kansen all prepared to fight and sacrifice their all to preserve what light was left. Peace and courage sprouted within this one's bosom and I knew of a surety that I must join.

That is the aim of this correspondence. It is this one's most sincere desire that you would consider me an ally in this struggle against darkness and as such, should you request my aid I will assist to the upmost of my strength. I know not the hearts of those you hold dear and fight alongside, but know that my heart holds no anger for the wars and strife of the past. If what my dream has shown me is the truth, then I suppose that your heart is like unto mine; also devoid of anger for what has been done. If we should find ourselves slumbering at the same time and if you would allow it, this one would like to seek you out, that we may be able to speak in a dreamscape. But should you decline this, this one bears no ill will against you. Regardless, I am hopeful for the honor of future correspondence and friendship.

Greatest regards,

Shinano"

Silence descended between the duo for a few seconds. But Nashville spoke first noting, "That's trippy as hell."

"My thoughts exactly. This is a serious contender for the weirdest thing that has happened to me. Being the Jesus Christ figure of some random foxgirl's dream is right up there in weirdness to surviving the breakdown of reality at the hands of a cult seeking godhood."

"I won't lie. A part of me is glad that she didn't see me specifically in her dream. I don't want to be in a dream as out there as that one."

"Fair enough. But I also can't help but notice that I've literally been invited to some kind of dreamland get together and all I gotta do is go to bed at the right time. That's also super weird."

"Are you gonna take her up on that?"

"Are you kidding? No way!" Las Vegas exclaimed dramatically. But then he calmed down and with a sigh he admitted, "I mean, just like Roscoe said earlier today, I don't think it's a good idea to be picking and choosing allies anymore. If this Shinano woman wants to help, we'll let her. But I am not desperate enough to agree to some sort of co-op dream."

"It's really comforting to hear you say that. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones with the Sakura, but this still just feels off, you know?"

"Yeah," he drawled. But then his attention shifted to the other piece of paper. This one had a big dark box that one can recognize as a printed picture on the opposite side. He unfolded this one too and saw the woman that must be Shinano herself. Sure enough she most certainly was a foxgirl with pure, snowy white ears rising prominently out of equally white hair that was notable for how long it was. It was difficult to see exactly on the small printed photo, but it appeared that her eyes were either a deep blue or perhaps a lavender. It didn't help that her eyes were half-closed and a drowsy look was on her creamy fair skinned face. Nevertheless, her beauty was striking and there was not a blemish to be seen anywhere on her skin. She displayed a veritable canyon of cleavage that was framed by the white trim of her non-traditional kimono which itself was decorated in flowing patterns and colors that invoke thoughts of the night. She had a pleated white short skirt and white thigh-highs. To complete the package there was a cadre of bushy white tails behind her.

Las Vegas took a few moments to just look at the woman and take in her exotic beauty and as it turned out, Nashville was doing the same. She whistled and opined, "No offense to anyone we've met so far, but I think Shinano just took the cake for the prettiest person we've seen so far."

"No comment," replied her commander quickly to cut off any attempts from Nashville to tease him about being surrounded by beautiful women. Even though her chance was gone, the response still shot the light cruiser a case of the giggles. It also didn't help that Las Vegas himself disagreed with Nashville on this. Shinano doesn't blow him away quite as much as he was the first time he met Nashville or saw her smile. But there was a snowball's chance in hell that he'd voice that to Nashville.

He had noticed it in his periphery while looking at the picture itself, and now in an effort to divert his thoughts from comparing Shinano to Nashville he read a few lines printed beneath the picture. "This one has seen your face and I will extend the same to you." There was also what had to be a telephone number printed as the very last thing.

Nashville remarked, "Her making the gesture of showing what she looks like after having seen you makes me just a bit more willing to trust her. And she even gave you her number. That's a bit more comforting than having a dream with her."

"I agree. But we'll see about this. I'm not entirely sure how I want to proceed with Shinano."

"I can understand that. But I trust you about this. Just please keep me in the loop whenever you decide to do something."

"Thanks, Nash. And you got it. I'll make sure you're kept up to speed."

Silence again descended naturally between the two as they sat on the deck between their respective cabins. Nashville was content to allow the time to pass in close proximity to her commander, but unfortunately for her, he had other ideas. He used a hand against the bulkhead to prop himself up and as he stood, he said, "I'm pretty tired, so I'm calling it a night."

Once he was completely stood up, he stepped in front of his companion and extended his hand to help her to her feet. She accepted and took his hand in hers. He lifted her to her feet and her heart soared. Without thinking, she fixed him in an embrace right as he had let go of her hand. She had startled him a little with the action, but he swiftly recovered and hugged her back. They didn't say anything and instead just enjoyed the presence of each other. Even though they were silent, both of them thought about how nice it was to not be alone in this craziness. Eventually the embrace broke off, the duo wished each other a good night, and they separated until the next morning.

Boom. That's a new chapter. A lot of big names were introduced, both allied and enemy. I really look forward to what's coming in the future, because I have some big plans—plans that I've been sitting on for upwards of two years now. I don't really have much to say otherwise, so please, send me your thoughts. Your opinions are important to me and I read all of your reviews. Speaking of which, I seem to have some reviews that need responses.

Hello, ErnstLindemann. It's great to be chatting with you again after so long. I hope that you are able to enjoy this chapter too.

It's nice to meet you, alex 34 anders. I got tons of romance in the works and I'm always considering different girls. And yes, Jean Bart is among those who are being considered.

Hey there, xX-6throwaway9-Xx. I'm glad to be back again. But whether or not this chapter is brilliant is up to you. I certainly tried and I like it. That talk with Nashville and Cheshire is forthcoming. But I expect it will happen sooner rather than later. I have Nashville's and Las Vegas's romance more or less mapped out until the eventually do confess. But, that might take a while. I hope I can convince you to stick around for that.

Hi Thouhoufanatic. Sirius's resolution isn't upon us quite yet, but we certainly are marching toward it. I have hinted to it in this chapter, but the cube will indeed bring some trouble yet. I hesitate to say that Las Vegas and Nashville will get a travel companion. Certainly, there will be recurring characters and some shipgirls rise to prominence above their peers in the story, but I suppose I'll just have to tell the story to show you what I'm envisioning. Please stay tuned for that.

What's up, Zander22122? I too am a sucker for prequel memes. For me, they're right up there next to LoTR memes. I'm really glad that you enjoyed Glorious's scenes. She's been a joy to write and I expect we'll be seeing more of her as the story goes on. You know, a big part of the reason I made an OC shipgirl is because I couldn't decide who the best girl is. So, I made the best girl. And part of being best girl is that Nashville knows memes. Royal Fortune is a character in the game. She's based on one of the ships captained by the pirate Bartholomew Roberts, who was active during the Golden Age of Piracy. Yes, Las Vegas listens to Sabaton. You can count on there to be at least a few references to that band's song about Bismarck. I have to. It's an Azur Lane fanfiction tradition at this point. I'm so glad to hear that your new school and major are working out for you. I was fortunate enough to graduate a few months ago. I'm still waiting for a career to come my way. But I'm hoping to change that soon.

Hello there, Shallow Candle. I hope this chapter was worth the wait as well. But unfortunately, the story isn't going to either of those places just yet. The next destination will become abundantly clear in the next chapter.

Greetings, EnJewel3. Thank you so much for your kind words. I hope this chapter was also worth waiting for. I'm really glad that you like the way that Royal Fortune is being implemented into my story. When she first appeared in the game, there was no question that she would take part in OPRM, but I just had to figure out how. With some thinking and some help, I have a pretty good way for her to fit into all this. I too am extremely interested to see how the situation with Charybdis plays out. As this chapter explained, we can count on it to be eventful. I hope that you've been doing well yourself.

It's nice to meet you Cemalidor. You certainly read my story very quickly. And I see that you've had a lot of thoughts. I am overjoyed that you took the time and effort to read all of my story. I hope that I can keep you around. But you asked some questions that I can answer. When I had Belfast teach Las Vegas knife fighting, the use of the word "commando" was on purpose, because the Royal Maid Corps—at least in my story—are the shipgirl equivalent of spies or special forces. That's a really good question about Las Vegas being vanished completely. You are correct. Things that have already been printed do still have Las Vegas's name on them. But without a place to start, anyone looking for Las Vegas's name would need to have some really really good luck to find it and then know that any given name is indeed his. I might do something with his name appearing at some point, but I don't plan on anyone finding out what it is until he can tell Nashville his name in the last chapter of the story.

Hey there, Bell Chou'un. I thought I had explained that well enough, but apparently not. Still, it's alright that you think that. I hope I can keep you around even if things like that show up every now and then.

Well, that's all I've got for now. Thank you for reading and I'll see you next time. Take care, friends. If you're having a bad day, I hope it gets better, and if you're having a good day, I hope it gets even better.