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.

34. Chapter 34: The Conference

Thanks to all who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. I've been looking forward to this one for a while, so let's see what's in store.

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

"Deliberation is the work of many men. Action, of one alone."

- Charles de Gaulle

Chapter 34: The Conference

When morning came, Las Vegas was somewhat relieved to have not dreamed of foxgirls. Perhaps it was a reflexive reaction when it came to the possibility of someone seeing into his own thoughts and privacy. With that in mind, he decided that if he ever dreams with this Shinano lady, it would be either an accident or he really is desperate. Regardless, the Unionist duo went about getting going with their morning routine but likewise to the day before, Nashville again asked to go and eat breakfast somewhere else, even with the possibility of being disturbed. Not being disturbed proved to be a difficult proposition however, because the duo, or more specifically, Las Vegas, had been found and zeroed in on by Doctor Anzeel, who was with a shipgirl that neither Unionist recognized.

Doctor Anzeel offered greetings to the duo, giving a big and warm hug to Nashville first and then a much less showy, but still friendly sounding, "Good morning," to Las Vegas. She relayed that Roscoe had given permission for her to enlist the assistance of the man for whatever project she has going on. But first, she dove into the backpack that she had. She produced a three-ring binder that Las Vegas estimated to be about an inch in thickness and it was approaching its capacity. The doctor then held out the binder to him and ordered, "Read and understand as much of this as possible in the next twenty-four hours. If things go as I expect them to today, then we'll get started with our work tomorrow morning."

He affirmed that he'd get right on that and opened the binder out of curiosity. The first page was actually a title page for what appeared to be a scholarly article that was common in high levels of academia. The title read, "Manipulation of Wisdom Cubes With The Purpose of Creating KAN-SEN." Unsurprisingly it was written by the doctor herself.

Nashville had been standing immediately beside him and she read the title as well, having been swept up in the same curiosity as her commander. She said jokingly, "Now Commander. Don't go gettin' ideas for launching your own shipgirls."

He let out a quick chuckle at that and replied, "Yeah. No ideas. I could list a thousand reasons why doing that on my own would be a terrible idea..."

The man would be unable to list nary a single reason on account of being cut off by an abnormally loud, "Calico Jaaaaack!" from a familiar source. He had only turned around just in time to be taken into a humongous bear hug from Cheshire. As much as he could, he hugged back while trying to excuse them from Doctor Anzeel and the shipgirl with her. The doctor herself was smiling brightly, satisfied that she could indeed trust the no-name man with the shipgirls she loved so dearly. The doctor and her companion bade them farewell and they were off, leaving the Unionist duo with the sweet and bouncy cat-like cruiser.

Eventually, Cheshire was satisfied with the affection she had given to Calico Jack and she turned her attention to Nashville, who had been trying to win the battle with her envy and at least doing a solid job of hiding it. Cheshire gave her a hug too and wished both of them a good morning. Then in a turn of events from how the duo had dealt with her so far, it was Cheshire that seized the initiative and invited them to breakfast. This was still accepted easily and a wide smile spread across Cheshire's face and her excitement doubled and then tripled in the blink of an eye. She took both Unionists by the hand and led them across the plaza away from where they had originally thought to eat breakfast. Cheshire led them away from the town and soon they arrived at the dormitory of the Royal Navy shipgirls. For the first time ever, the foreigners entered. Though definitely nice, the inside wasn't as opulent as either were expecting and when Nashville voiced that, Cheshire revealed that the halls meant for Queen Elizabeth, her court, and her knights were much nicer. But finally, Calico Jack voiced his question, "So, where are we going?"

Cheshire finally let go of the duo's hands and she pushed open a door. "Here!" she cheerily reported. Inside was a kitchen but this one was huge, easily able to accommodate a dozen cooks with different projects for each to work on. She turned around to regard her visitors and her tone grew a bit sheepish as she admitted, "I wanted to make something for the both of you."

On account of her commander being too surprised to answer first, Nashville stepped up to plate to say, "Oh my god, that is sweet as all get out for you to want to do that for us."

Now Cheshire at least had Nashville's approval. She looked to Calico Jack for him to say something, which he finally did. His amazement was apparent as he said, "Wow. That's just… Wow. Thanks Cheshire. We'd love to have some of what you're cooking."

Their good reactions made Cheshire squeak with glee and take both in another big hug. But once done, she showed her guests to an adjacent dining hall with enough seating to work alongside the size of the communal kitchen. The duo sat down while Cheshire disappeared into the kitchen herself to get going with whatever it was she had in mind to make. Not long passed when Nashville saw her commander begin to stand to do something that was very much in his character. "We gotta go help her," he asserted.

"Nope. Nopenopenope," denied his companion while she took a hold of his forearm to keep him from walking off into the kitchen. He looked towards her but before he even got his mouth open to reply, Nashville shushed him and ordered, "Sit your butt back down. She brought us all the way out here and said she wants to cook us something and you want to take that away from her?" He sat back down and that allowed Nashville to release him. She continued, "It's great and all that you want to help. And I love that you are always willing and looking for ways to do it, but maybe sometimes help isn't what's wanted."

She watched as her commander grew pensive and pondered these words for a few seconds. He nodded slowly and said to her, "Okay. I'll try to think a bit more before doing something like this again."

Nashville smiled at him and he smiled back to her automatically. They slipped into casual conversation without any disturbance. Even though there were other shipgirls in the hall, none of them interrupted the duo as they talked. A few stole glances at Calico Jack, but nothing more was done. Eventually, Cheshire did come out of the kitchen with a large tray in her hands and she approached the table with what she had made. She placed three identical plates on the table and she went to go return the tray from where she had gotten it in the kitchen. While she was gone, the foreigners were able to inspect what had been made. It was a plate of what had to be a traditional English breakfast. Some parts were familiar to the Unionists, who were from a country that has English cultural influences. These parts were the bacon, sausages, eggs, hash browns, and the toast. What was not so familiar as breakfast items were beans and tomatoes. Cheshire returned quickly with a bounce in her step and when she had sat down at the table across from Nashville but beside Calico Jack and she picked up her fork and began to eat. That was sign enough for the duo to begin themselves.

In Nashville's opinion, the food was palatable but not outstanding. There was no way that she'd say it, but she thought that her own cooking was better than Cheshire's. But Nashville understood that her opinion really didn't matter in this. As it turned out, the light cruiser didn't even need subtlety as she watched Cheshire's gaze bounce between her plate and Las Vegas without saying anything. It was clear that Cheshire wanted his approval. It was so clear in fact that even Las Vegas noticed it, which he responded to with, "This is pretty good Cheshire. I really appreciate you inviting us to this."

Cheshire's tension fled away in a heartbeat and a sigh left her lips. "You really think so?" she probed with barely contained elation.

He nodded and affirmed, "Absolutely. One-hundred percent." He wasn't lying either just to make Cheshire feel better. Las Vegas isn't one to be known as a picky eater nor is he known to have very refined tastes, so to him what Cheshire made was perfectly fine.

The woman's elation escaped containment and the floodgates of her relief opened, "I'm so so glad that you liked it. At first, I didn't know what to do, but then I got some help and had some practice and then…" So, she went on for a credit roll of things that she attributed her success to. It was hard to follow based on the speed of her speech but in the end, she came back to the moment, lost her excitement and grew verklempt. Now quietly, she confessed, "And now you two are here. Eating what I've made. You two are the only friends I have here in Devonport, so thank you both so very much for coming with me this morning."

Once again, Nashville felt kinship with Cheshire. Nashville knew what it was like to not have friends. During the first year of her life as a shipgirl, it wasn't that anybody hated her, it was just that there was widespread indifference and a sense of being ignored. But Nashville was thinking too much so her commander was able to speak first, "You're welcome. We're happy to have come along and you're tons of fun to be with." His thoughts of the matter were much simpler than Nashville's. Rather than be concerned with kinship or any ways that he and the cat-like cruiser were similar, he instead saw that there was a wrong that he must do his part to correct. So here he was.

Cheshire couldn't think of words to respond to that, so she didn't. Instead, she smiled widely with happy tears in her eyes. Nashville added her own words onto her commander's. "Yeah. What he said. Thanks for having us." Not much time would pass and Cheshire would recover enough to allow the meal to continue and then finish. Once again, Cheshire took it upon herself to remove the plates and silverware to have them cleaned. She dropped them off and returned to the duo. There they had a brief conversation about what to do next. The Unionist duo hadn't been given any instructions beyond what Anzeel had told the commander earlier, so they consented to doing whatever it was that Cheshire felt like doing. At that invitation, Cheshire led them away to waste a few hours until the duo would be called for.

XXXXXXXX

It was a contradictory thing, the mathematician found out. He had been directed to study by Doctor Anzeel, but then along came Cheshire who deserved time and attention. An older version of Las Vegas would have brushed Cheshire off to study, but not anymore. Friends are more important than most anything else. He didn't regret that decision in the slightest as the hours began to pass. Laughs and smiles from Nashville and Cheshire sure were great and he took part as well. But pass time did, and late in the morning the trio were sought out. It would be Sirius this time who would fetch the two Unionists so that they could meet the expected arrivals from the Iris Orthodoxy who would be docking in short order. Naturally, Cheshire was invited to come along and she perked up to accept the invitation. She explained that she had a very good friend named, "Surcouf" among the Iris Navy and she wondered if she would be among those docking.

There was only one way to find out. So, the group of now four people went off to see the arrival of the Iris fleet that they would be working alongside. Everything was going great until Sirius's face suddenly flared with an expression of panic. It had taken too long for her to find them and they were late. The Iris had already docked and deboarded from their hulls. Sirius suggested that the group speed up, which they did, coming to a jogging speed. Full flank speed would have left the lone man among them far behind.

"The dock that they are waiting at is just up ahead," notified Sirius.

Calico Jack looked ahead to see what was forward. It appeared that they would come around a corner building and have arrived at the main dock that would stretch out into the water from which a number of smaller berths would allow the ships themselves to tie in. Looking out to the water, there was already a group gathered part of the way down the dock but that was suddenly obscured from view by the building that the four newcomers were passing.

They were just about to pass the building and come out onto the dock itself when there was a call from down the dock that Las Vegas did not understand because it was being shouted in Iris. Sirius made it around the corner just fine, Nashville and Cheshire were behind him, and he himself had just popped around the corner right in time to be thrown off his feet. His momentum had been instantly changed and he was knocked backwards by a speeding person. He wasn't thrown far in a comical fashion, but he was most certainly knocked over with the person coming to rest on top of him. Based on the person's size, the length of her red hair, and the fact that this was a shipgirl port, she had to be a shipgirl.

Caught unawares, the man had been dazed when he landed and he did not recover in time for Nashville to react. "Get off of him!" she ordered with a shout. Without any further delay that would allow for a response or even compliance, Nashville had grabbed the girl by one of her upper arms and dragged her to her feet and off of him. The light cruiser yanked the girl to the side, let go, and not a heartbeat later, she was at her commander's side with a hand on his shoulder. "Commander? Las Vegas? Are you okay?" she rapidly quizzed.

Her commander sat up from his previously prone position much to the apparent relief of Nashville. He waited a few seconds for the stars in his vision to clear. Once that happened he nodded slowly and said, "Note to self: Be more careful when going around corners."

"That's not an 'okay,'" pointed out Nashville harshly.

"I am a-okay," he replied to that. And to prove his point, he gathered up his knees, propped himself up an a hand and began to stand up. He managed to do it at just the right speed to keep from seeing more stars. Now standing, he noted, "But that was intense."

"I'll say," agreed Nashville. The duo then noticed the larger group of both Royal and Iris shipgirls approach. As they were doing so, the Union officer noticed for the first time that there were two men among the women. One was Commodore Belanger and the other was a man he did not recognize. Well, it looked like introductions were forthcoming because there was some other business to attend to. He looked at the girl who had ran into him as she stood there petrified to have done something not just to a foreign officer, but to a normal human. There was a lot to take in just looking at her. From a glance, he could tell that she was a shipgirl. She was too...perfect in her appearance to be anything else. She was small in stature, perhaps being about the size of Glorious from the man's estimation. She had long hair that was the color of red wine and her blue eyes threatened fearful tears. This and other hallmarks of a panicking visage marred the girl's admittedly cute features. Her choice of attire was non-conventional among the shipgirls he'd met. Many of them had decided to air on the side of less modesty, but this girl was a whole new level. She wore what appeared to be a blue and white one-piece swimsuit with as much material removed as possible. Rather than have openings for her legs, there were openings showing her shapely hips all the way up to her slender waist and rather than have openings for her arms, it looked like entire corners had been cut away so that her shoulders as well as large edges of her prominent breasts were in the open air. The rational part of the man's monkey brain internally asked, "How does she not spill out of that?" A moment later, he could tell why. What part of her breasts that were covered was quite tight so as to restrict any undesired movements. This had the added effect of highlighting their exact size and shape. On top of that, she had white gloves that went all the way up to the middle of her upper arms and thigh highs with gold trimming. All in all, she was a real knockout, not that he would ever admit that in his present company.

Speaking of present company, Queen Elizabeth was the first to speak anything that caught Calico Jack's attention. "Calico Jack, are you alright?"

He shot her a thumbs up and joked, "Never been better. I happened to be looking for a pick-me-up and that did the trick."

Queen Elizabeth took a few seconds to look skeptically at the man. She relented and then moved onto business. "Even though that was unexpected, some introductions are in order."

For the few seconds that Queen Elizabeth and he had been speaking, Calico Jack noticed the girl who had ran into him try her very hardest to slip into the back of the crowd of people who had rushed to his aid. He didn't bring attention to this, but harsh whispers could be heard from the back even though he didn't understand them. "Yeah, I would agree with that," concurred the Union officer.

She looked to the side towards Commodore Belanger and the other unrecognized man, thus signaling to them that she was done. Somewhat surprisingly, there was a moment of rank and position being set aside among the three men and there was just silent communication between three bros. Belanger made an extremely subtle gesture with his head towards the teenage monarch and gave a thin smile. Las Vegas nodded shallowly to acknowledge what was being said. Even though any of the three men had the rank to take charge of the proceedings, it's best to let the queen do her thing. In this passing second Las Vegas found himself liking Commodore Belanger even more and he had somehow found a camaraderie with an Irisman with whom he'd never spoken with before. The moment passed, and military decorum took charge. As the one with the lowest rank, the Union officer snapped a salute to the superior ranked men. He said, "Good morning to you sirs."

"Good morning to you as well, Commander," greeted the commodore with a straight face. But then a mirthful smile appeared on his face and he remarked, "It's good to see you in tip-top shape."

Salutes fell and attention shifted to the Iris officer. His uniform was pristine and from the stars on his rank insignia, he was most certainly a flag officer. He reached out for a handshake, and introduced himself, "I am Vice-Amiral Maxime Fabre. I sincerely apologize for what happened."

Automatically, the commander reached out and shook the man's hand. If pronunciation and linguistic cognates was anything to go off of, it looked like this man was a Vice Admiral. That's a really high rank for someone involved directly with shipgirls. At least, that was his first thought. In reality, he had no idea how shipgirls were organized in the Iris Orthodoxy, so who is he to question what he heard? Nevertheless, Vice Admiral Fabre's handshake was solid and deliberate. This allowed the commander a few seconds to take in the Irisman's appearance. He was probably the most stereotypically sailor-ly sailor to have ever sailed the sea with his weather beaten countenance giving him a light tan and wrinkles on his forehead. He had a medium length full beard curled around his square jaw that was dark brown but had a number of gray hairs within. This frequency of gray was repeated in the hair on his head. And for the first time in quite a while, the commander met someone else who had green eyes. Finally, the handshake broke off and the Unionist introduced himself the best he could. "Don't worry about it. It's all good. But anyway, I'm Commander. I don't have a name."

Vice Admiral Fabre appeared not only unperturbed, but unsurprised as well. Commodore Belanger spoke up and admitted, "Ah. I should have warned you vice admiral. This man is the much talked about 'Calico Jack' that you may have heard of."

The Irisman smiled with amusement. He relayed, "We in the Iris Navy had all thought that 'Calico Jack' was just an English prank or perhaps a propaganda tool. It appears as if the prank is either much more elaborate that we supposed or perhaps we were wrong."

"I sure feel real," responded the commander.

"So it would seem," accepted Fabre. "It's quite the coincidence that just yesterday me and my fleet had a chat about what we would name our own 'Calico Jack,' if we had one. Do you care to hear the name?"

"You've stoked my curiosity. Let's hear it."

"We would call him, 'Nemo.'"

Now the Unionist brightened with recognition. He asked, "Like the captain of the Nautilus from 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea?"

"The same."

"It's certainly not a bad name."

"And it serves my purposes. To me, you will be 'Commander Nemo.'" The Irisman then appeared quite satisfied with his naming skills. Despite being a man in his fifties, there was a child-like glint in his eyes that had been brought about by the novelty of this most unusual meeting. Just seeing that in the older vice admiral made the Unionist like him. But now, Admiral Fabre looked to the side towards the shipgirls that the commander didn't recognize and still speaking in English he asked, "What do you think? Should we use 'Nemo' for the one the English call, 'Calico Jack?'"

There were seven shipgirls that Las Vegas and Nashville didn't recognize. Six of them without hesitation looked to one of them to speak for the rest. The one being looked to oozed regal gentleness. Her violet-red eyes and the commander's green ones met and regarded one another. Just looking at her, the commander could tell that this woman was a natural leader. Though her eyes communicated curiosity and careful consideration her features remained impassive for the moment. Her strawberry blonde hair was kept long and her bangs hung over her forehead and framed her face. Her dress leaned towards the more modest in comparison to the girl who had collided with the man earlier, it being decorated in white, red, and blue with a short frilly skirt and puff sleeves. Her figure, though while still clearly feminine, wasn't so overpowering as some other shipgirls. She had red thigh highs and a tiara was perched atop her head.

They would only regard one another for a few seconds when this woman would ask the commander, "What do you think? Are you opposed to being called, 'Nemo?'" Her voice was like the finest of silks. It was clear that English was not her first language, but she took her time to enunciate her words so that in spite of her clear Iris accent, she was still understood perfectly. Though undeniably beautiful to look upon, it was her voice that was angelic.

"No Ma'am. I'm not opposed," finally answered the man.

She smiled a wonderful smile. But to the eyes of the man, it was still second place to Nashville. "Then among us of the Iris Navy, you shall be 'Commander Nemo.'"

"That works for me, Miss. Thank you for giving me my name, but what is yours?"

The woman's smile shifted to one of amusement at that last statement. She answered, "I am Richelieu, Cardinal of the Iris Orthodoxy. If you too will fight for freedom and faith, the I shall be your friend and ally forevermore."

"Well that's convenient. I was doing that already," notified the man now also called, "Nemo." Even though he had more to say he didn't immediately get to it. Because there was a problem. Richelieu's name was something that he might mess up the pronunciation on. Well, she did introduce herself as a cardinal, and while he knew that cardinal is a rank in the Catholic Church, he found a big question on his mind. Was she an actual ordained cardinal of the Catholic Church or was she as much a cardinal as Queen Elizabeth is a queen? Not that he was one to discriminate, but are women even allowed to be cardinals? He didn't know because he wasn't Catholic. But then he decided that taking the easy way out and calling her "Cardinal" instead of her actual name wasn't right. Well, if he messed up, she looked nice enough to correct him gently. Time to find out. He then continued by saying, "I look forward to working alongside you and your fleet, Cardinal Richelieu." He had to take a bit of extra time with her name, but he managed to more or less imitate what he heard when she pronounced it, "Ree-shuh-lee-oh."

He apparently did well enough that her smile broadened slightly. He took heart at seeing that but he wasn't finished just yet. He looked to his own side towards Nashville and got on with introducing her. He gestured to his companion and said, "This is Nashville. She and I work together."

"It's nice to meet y'all," she voiced with a small wave and a friendly smile. "Just like my commander, I look forward to working with y'all."

Immediately following that, Queen Elizabeth began to speak, thus recapturing everyone's attention. "There you have it Richelieu my friend. Now don't get any bright ideas trying to get him to join your Templar Knights. He's already sworn oath to me and the Knights of the Round Table."

Richelieu rolled her eyes and started to say something to Queen Elizabeth, but there was a tap on the commander's shoulder. It was Commodore Belanger. He whispered disbelievingly, "You swore an oath to Queen Elizabeth?"

The answer came at the same volume. "Yeah. There were some sweet upsides, practically no downsides, and I'm perpetually short on friends."

"Do you regret it?"

"So far, no."

The commodore nodded and that was the end of that. Attention naturally shifted back towards Queen Elizabeth, who loudly proclaimed, "We are most grateful that so many visitors can come to our home. We are hosting a luncheon for our guests before we hold council this afternoon. Please, follow me." The crowd naturally parted and the teenage monarch was off leading the way with Richelieu in tow. The men, Nashville, Cheshire, and the shipgirl who had ran into Las Vegas were the last to follow.

Cheshire embraced the girl in a big hug that the girl was all too eager to return. "It's so great to see you after so long," greeted the cat-like cruiser.

"I'm happy to see you too," said the girl. But then she whispered something into Cheshire's ear, who likewise responded to her in a whisper that could not be overheard.

Cheshire took the girl's hand into her own and led her in front of Calico Jack. She said, "This is the friend that I told you about, Surcouf."

For the first time since the whole incident began, Surcouf spoke by offering, "I'm really sorry for running into you like I did." Surcouf didn't look quite as distressed as she did immediately following the incident, but she did look apologetic.

His mind had already been made, so he replied, "It's alright. I forgive you." She perked up to look at him, but then he added on, "But be more careful running around corners."

Surcouf meekly accepted the order. Cheshire's smile grew and to Surcouf she exclaimed, "See! I told you he was nice!" To this, Surcouf nodded and a smile of her own appeared.

Then, somewhat unexpectedly, Nashville began to speak, "Sorry for how rough I was with ya."

Surcouf's expression tempered but she sill replied, "It's okay."

But by the time that was said, the six of them had already fallen behind. To Cheshire, Commodore Belanger inquired, "Sorry for not knowing your name, but do you know where the luncheon is being held?"

"Uh huh! Big stuff always happens in the queen's throne hall!" answered Cheshire with a nod, "I can lead the way!" This was accepted, and they went off to join the others.

XXXXXXXX

The throne hall was throbbing with activity. Entering showed that long tables had been erected down the length of the main hall. Many seats were occupied by the local shipgirls, however not all were seated for a number had congregated to the sides with their friends and were chatting happily. The maids and teams of manjuu bustled back and forth tending to the needs of the event. Naturally, the arriving group's vision fell onto the one table that was perpendicular to the rest of them that was nearest to Queen Elizabeth's throne. Inhabiting this table was Queen Elizabeth, her court, Richelieu with her fleet, Doctor Anzeel, Admiral Arthur with a man who must be a member of his staff, and finally Supreme Commander Roscoe with Lieutenant Commander Larcom. Luckily, there were a few empty seats left presumably for the incoming three officers, Nashville, and Surcouf. This arrangement unfortunately left Cheshire alone but this was rapidly remedied by Surcouf herself who noted that she wanted to chat with her friend. Admiral Fabre excused Surcouf and they bade farewell to the two Unionists, the commodore, and the vice admiral to go find their own place in the hall.

Going down the hall, Calico Jack and Nashville were greeted by a number of the local shipgirls. The ones that were recognized were Glorious, Javelin, and Unicorn. But then there were some who were unrecognized. At first, the crossing took a bit longer than initially expected because Commodore Belanger wanted to get as many peoples' names as possible. Eventually, he told those he was with to go on ahead and that he'd join them in short order.

Approaching the table revealed a problem to the two Unionists in particular. The various officers had naturally congregated to one end of the table, and there was an empty seat left open for the Commander. Among the shipgirls, specifically beside Doctor Anzeel, there was an empty seat for Nashville. They were separated and this made Nashville visibly disappointed. And she wasn't the only one to be like that. Among any number of strangers, Las Vegas very much preferred to have the person he knew the best to have his back and be immediately nearby. But suddenly, a solution presented itself. Doctor Anzeel must have been watching the duo, because she waved them over and stated what she saw. "I see you two want to sit together, yes?"

Being caught in that was surprisingly embarrassing. For both of the duo. Nashville spoke for them, "Yes. We'd like to."

"Well, you're in luck," answered the doctor playfully. She simply moved over a chair towards the side that had originally been open for Nashville. This created two empty seats beside the doctor and solved the problem.

Nashville smiled widely with happiness. "Thanks so much Doc," she offered.

Anzeel dismissed it saying, "Now now, no need to thank me. Just sit down. I want to talk with you."

Problem now solved, the duo got situated at the table. Nashville was beside Anzeel and the doctor immediately began to speak with the light cruiser. This left a spot that must have originally been reserved for Surcouf to now be occupied by the commander. In front of him across the table sat Prince of Wales. Beside him sat one of the girls with Richelieu's fleet. She appeared young, perhaps in her early teens. If he were to hazard a guess, purple must have been her favorite color. Her long hair was a light shade of it and the top part of her dress was a darker violet. Her shoulders and the top part of her back was covered in a similarly colored short cape that had white trimming and was tied together with a burgundy bow. She had on a white skirt that had stripes of red and blue with matching thigh highs. Resting on her lap was a book and a stick upon which she rested a gloved hand to keep them from falling. But what was most notable to the commander was her eyes. Her blue-green eyes were covered by a pair of eyeglasses. To his memory, he had only seen one other shipgirl with glasses and that was London in the photo of the ill-fated Operation Argonautica.

The girl spoke and introduced herself, "I'm the destroyer L'Opiniâtre, a so-called 'magician' from the Iris Orthodoxy. It's a pleasure meeting you, Commander Nemo. Umm, actually, please forget the 'magician' part."

There was a lot to unpack in that introduction. The girl's name was surprisingly possible to pronounce, but how to spell it was completely beyond the codebreaker. Nevertheless, that part about being a magician and then asking him to forget about it was undeniably distinct. Strangely, the man had a flashback to his days in undergrad while in university. He saw a number of eccentric people walking around back then, but there was this one girl he'd see on campus walking around wearing a long blue silky cape. He never did have the courage to ask her why she wore it around. But there was a whole other part of L'Opiniâtre being a magician. He happened to be something of a magician himself.

He drawled, "It' nice to meet you too…" He paused for just a moment then asked, "Please correct my pronunciation if I'm wrong, but your name is L'oh-peen-yot-uh?" He had deliberately said her name slowly while making sure to keep the "L" sound as distinct from the rest of her name. He tried his absolute hardest to say it right. Even if he was solidifying the stereotype of the ignorant Unionist who can't pronounce any words that aren't English, he didn't care. If he's learned only one thing during his time as a sailor, it's that names are important and he needs to get this girl's correct.

L'Opiniâtre nodded satisfactorily. She approved by saying, "You said it acceptably."

Automatically, Nemo pumped his fist in his victory and this made her giggle. This was her first clue that Commander Nemo isn't like many of the officers that she'd met and interacted with. "Awesome," he congratulated himself. Just at that moment, there was a tweet from behind him and he looked to see a manjuu with a plate of food. He leaned to the side to allow the bird to set the plate down on the table in front of him and he said, "Thank you." He regarded the plate's contents with curiosity. It looked a lot like a pie, but it was clearly savory instead of a sweet dessert pie like one would typically find in the Eagle Union. In that regards, it was probably more comparable to a pie one would find in the United Kingdom.

"It's a Quiche," L'Opiniâtre inserted.

"A what?"

"A Quiche. It's like a pie, but from the Orthodoxy."

"Interesting. It's a bit fancier than what I grew up eating. But let's give it a shot." So, armed with a fork, the Unionist took a bite. It was good. Really good. In short order he found himself comparing quiche to any other of his favorite foods. He thought for a few seconds and made a decision. While good, the quiche is still inferior to the Carne Asada he had back home. Thank God for Mexican food and that some of the culinary goodness from south of the Eagle Union had crossed the border at some point. The ol' reliable hadn't failed him yet.

This line of thinking made a previously unfelt emotion come to the man. It was homesickness. Sure, there were friends here in the UK, but there was no disguising the fact that he was thousands of miles away from home. He wondered what his siblings were doing. Had his brother proposed to his longtime girlfriend yet? How about his sister? Or his mother and father? Were they okay and did they miss him? Most likely. His mother was the emotional sort that probably deeply mourned the loss of one of her sons. He wished that there was a way to send them word that he was alright. But no way of doing that came to mind given the limitations of secrecy that he has to deal with.

Suddenly, there was a prod into his side that unfortunately landed right into the middle of the man's concealed revolver. He was lucky that what prodded him didn't go into the trigger guard which is uncovered in the holster he had made. That would have risked an accidental discharge. Needless to say, an accidental gunshot can sour nearly any occasion. He was snapped back to the present and concealing his alarm at someone maybe discovering he was armed, he looked towards L'Opiniâtre. She had just poked him with the stick that had been on her lap. She had clearly felt that she poked something hard, but she wasn't sure what it was. Rather than asking what it was, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

She appeared unconvinced. "Are you sure? You don't look fine."

"I am now, at least. Thanks for poking me with your, uh, stick?"

Now with the man's eyes definitively pointed at the wooden item, L'Opiniâtre finally explained the other stuff that she had with her. "This is a wand that I use to do magic with," she said while brandishing the wand with as much flourish as close quarters allowed. Then she patted the book on her lap and said, "And this is a spellbook with hundreds upon hundreds of powerful spells."

Nemo hadn't heard of any shipgirls being capable of magic and even though he survived an instance in which reality began to break down, he somehow doubted that L'Opiniâtre could actually perform magic of any variety. She did tell him to forget about her being a magician earlier. Maybe she either wasn't good at magic, or couldn't do any. Wait… Was he really considering the existence of magic? Magic is silly. There's tricks that are sleights of hand and from what he knows, there's scientific methods that can easily pass as magic, but there's no magic itself. The man maintained his skepticism that L'Opiniâtre was in fact not magical. Nevertheless, he felt it fair to give the girl a chance to show if she was. "Is that so?" he asked. "Are there any spells or tricks that you think you could do here at the table?"

The girl brightened considerably at her chance as shown by the big smile now plastered on her face. "Yes! I have just the trick!" she exclaimed as loud as table manners permitted. She pried open her book to what looked like a random page. As it turns out, the page wasn't random because stowed within was a singular coin. She withdrew the coin and closed the book. She held out the coin for the man to see and explained, "This is a completely normal coin. Want to check to make sure?"

Nemo smiled with endearment. He did not expect that he'd be on the receiving end of a coin trick. It seemed that L'Opiniâtre wasn't magical after all. Still he decided to play along. "Yes, please," he accepted. She handed him the coin for him to turn it over in his hands and inspect. It was a normal one Euro coin. The Unionist found the coin to be quite attractive among coinage given its two-tone coloring and clean looking engraving, but aside from the novelty of handling an unfamiliar currency it was bog standard. He handed it back while he observed, "It's completely normal to me."

"Wonderful. Now for the trick." Having said that, the girl then made a flourish with her hands, making a show out off waving her fingers around for him to watch with the coin always visible. No more than a few seconds of this passed when one hand waved in front of the other and she slowly drew her hands apart. The coin had been hidden from his view. He noted quickly that she only showed him the palms of her hands so that meant it had to do with hiding the coin from him. She moved one of her hands so that it was outstretched somewhat with the palm up as if asking for something. She flicked her other hand and the coin reappeared and landed into her outstretched palm. "Ta-da," she encored with her smile unabated. Though fun to watch, the trick was clearly not magical.

Her audience couldn't help but smile right along with her. He admitted, "That's a neat trick you got there, L'Opiniâtre." The moment of shared amusement persisted for several seconds when their smiled faded naturally. She went to replace the coin back into her book and when she opened it he asked, "Would it be alright if I take a look at your spellbook?"

The coin was placed within and she closed it again. She looked towards the Unionist and confessed, "It's only a spellbook in my imagination. It's just a regular old book of fairy-tales."

"Ah okay, I'll take your word for it then," replied the man. That admission quashed any possibilities of L'Opiniâtre actually being magical. Now that he had that question answered, he moved on to ask, "But if you don't mind me asking, what's your favorite fairy-tale?"

L'Opiniâtre lit up again with excitement at the prospect of sharing one of her favorite things. So, she and her new chat partner began their new course of discussion. The girl was unaware that she had been subject to a trick herself. Just like a stage magician who uses showmanship to conceal their own sleight of hand, Commander Nemo made her forget that she had prodded his concealed weapon with her wand. She was none the wiser that there had been any deception.

Likewise ignorant to L'Opiniâtre's almost discovery but observing the two nonetheless was Cardinal Richelieu from where she sat further down the table. From having witnessed what had just ocurred, she had a positive impression of Commander Nemo so far. He put up with and even played along with L'Opiniâtre's antics. Richelieu wasn't completely certain of her opinion about the man due to the shortness of her time of being acquainted with him but there was no denying that he had made a good first impression. He had forgiven Surcouf and he had made L'Opiniâtre smile. Add onto that Queen Elizabeth's approval of the man and if nothing else, Richelieu had to admit that she was curious of him. She suspected that she would be able to get an even better feel for the man's character during the war council later in the day.

The luncheon would continue at a leisurely pace for some more time, but eventually the participants were dismissed back to their daily activities and duties, leaving those who had inhabited the front table alone in Queen Elizabeth's throne room along with Belfast, Cheshire, and Surcouf who had reappeared from wherever they had been.

Vice Admiral Fabre briefly consulted with Supreme Commander Roscoe and Commodore Belanger and then he gave an order to his fleet in English. "All of you in my fleet except Richelieu and Saint Louis are dismissed to go to the village. Remain vigilant for when you may be called." Five of the Iris women plus Cheshire left unaccompanied from the hall. This left only those who would be involved in the discussions to come.

A few seconds of silence passed when Doctor Anzeel stepped up to Roscoe and offered her own excuse to depart. She said, "I can't stand military planning when the operations are to involve shipgirls. I'd like to follow them to the village until I'm called for."

"Do as you please," consented the officer. "But likewise to those who just left, do remain aware of any attempts to contact you."

The doctor accepted that and left the hall to follow those who had already left.

Now left with only those who would participate in the council, Queen Elizabeth ordered, "Come. Let us go to where we have arranged the council will take place." So, the group went off to go find the designated place.

XXXXXXXX

Further down the hallway that has Queen Elizabeth's and Commodore Belanger's offices is a conference hall of moderate size. It would suit the group's purposes nicely. As he had been entering, Las Vegas heard Queen Elizabeth give an order to Belfast that the maid should fetch tea for the conference about to take place. She slipped away leaving Queen Elizabeth, her council of Illustrious, Hood, Prince of Wales, and Duke of York, Roscoe, Larcom, Arthur, his still-unnamed staff member, Belanger, Fabre, Richelieu, Saint Louis, and finally ending with the two Unionists. Out of habit, Las Vegas gravitated towards the back corner away from the front where any activity would be most easily noticed. Nashville was in tow like she always was, but seeing her commander's intention, she whispered, "Don't take the corner. Don't look like you're trying to get out of this." Seeing her point, he instead took the chair immediately adjacent to the corner, with Nashville herself taking the corner seat. Nothing was being spoken just yet, but Las Vegas couldn't help but think to himself, "Fifteen people. Sixteen when Belfast gets back. Hopefully we won't have to say much."

The conference table that went the whole way down the room had a different distribution of where people sat this time as opposed to the luncheon. At the front of the table was Supreme Commander Roscoe and Admiral Sir Arthur. Immediately to their side in the clockwise direction was Larcom and Arthur's staff member. Continuing in that direction was Vice Admiral Fabre, Richelieu, Saint Louis, Las Vegas, and Nashville. Directly across for Nashville was an empty seat presumably left so for Belfast, and then proceeding back towards the front of the table was Hood, Duke of York, Prince of Wales, Illustrious, Queen Elizabeth, and finally Commodore Belanger himself. Sitting among accomplished officers and warriors made the man with no name somewhat self conscious for his lack of experience. Nevertheless, here he was. At the very least, Roscoe thought that he and Nashville had something to offer to the war council. And besides, the codebreaker suspected that Roscoe had deliberately delayed giving the Union duo's new orders until this very moment for a reason.

Regardless of whatever he thought about how things were to proceed, the man couldn't help but regard the one shipgirl in the room that he hadn't been introduced to yet. "Saint Louis," was the woman's name from what Vice Admiral Fabre had said before coming to the conference room. Because she was immediately beside the man, he was able to get a decent sideways look at her. Her hair was gray, but it had a shine to it that distinguished it from someone who had gray hair due to old age. In her hair was some sort of decoration comprised of linked black diamond shapes that the man hesitated to describe as a crown or tiara. Her face was statuesque, both in stoicism and in the artistic sharpness of her features. Her dress for the most part had been white with blue trim, with a huge exception being the part of her attire that covered her chest. Rather than be made of fabric, she appeared to have on a tight black spandex-like covering over her breasts that had several effects. One effect was that each of her large breasts were handled individually and could be easily distinguished from each other. He could tell because they bounced individually as she sat down. The other effect was that he saw the outlines of her prominent nipples. Yeah… He's going to have to be extremely careful to avoid looking at that part of her body. But moving on. She had on white and blue armored gauntlets and she wore black pantyhose that led to white and gold high-heeled boots. She hadn't said anything to the man as she regarded him with crimson colored eyes while sitting down, and he felt it was the inopportune moment to make an introduction, so he remained silent as well.

Nashville suddenly caught his attention once again by whispering to her commander, "Any ideas how this is gonna go?"

"Nope," he answered in equal volume. He continued, "I guess we'll just play it by ear."

Nashville didn't much like that answer, but she knew it was unreasonable to expect a better answer. So, she instead attempted to convey optimism rather than anything else when she concluded, "Don't ya worry. I got your back."

His thin smile back to her was gratitude enough and she gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

The door to the conference room opened catching everyone's attention. Belfast had reappeared and she was holding the door open so that Sirius could push in a cart with all the various essentials of serving tea to a sizable gathering as this was. The head maid spoke her polite pardon for intruding and deftly she began to serve tea to all the present with Sirius's assistance. Quickly it was all served in the manner according to each person's liking and once it was complete, Belfast gave her own order to Sirius. "Guard the door for eavesdroppers." Sirius nodded deeply and she pushed the cart through the door, closing it behind her. The door latched closed loud enough for the whole room to hear. Finally, the head maid herself was the last one standing and she went to her own place across of Nashville and sat down.

Though the Unionists were not as keen to it as the rest, such a war council was extremely unusual. There had been times when there were such councils between operational elements of the Royal Navy and Iris Navy to discuss plans for upcoming campaigns. That was the case here, but that was when the similarities ended. By virtue of Admiral Sir Arthur's position as First Sea Lord and Chief of the Naval Staff being one that was ripe with political influence and not operational powers, his presence is unnecessary except in the most extraordinary of circumstances. But that was not all. There was a nameless Unionist officer among them with a top secret mission known only to a minority of those who were present. Having that lone Union officer also be answerable directly to Grayson Roscoe thus circumventing any command structure of the Eagle Union was alarming as well. Many present were on edge and Las Vegas himself had noticed that much. It wasn't that nobody had spoken. It was that the silence was oppressive.

Nevertheless, Grayson Roscoe would not allow this to persist. He stood from where he sat and began to address the assembled group. "Thank you all for coming today to discuss our operations of the near future. As I am certain that all of you can surmise, the circumstances are unusual. However, before what exactly is going to be done is revealed, it would be best for all here to be brought to the same level of information. Beginning with Admiral Sir Arthur, and going clockwise around the table, every operations commander here is to give a brief report on the status of their duties."

Roscoe sat down and Admiral Arthur cleared his throat. He relayed, "Chats with my counterpart in the Eagle Union Navy has finally born fruit. There is agreement that there will be a multi-national naval campaign to reopen shipping lanes between Europe and the Eagle Union. In the short term, the agreed upon objectives are merely the opening and protecting of the lanes. In the long term, the Eagle Union Navy, as well as the Royal Navy and Iris Navy will be beginning a counter offensive to reclaim the North Atlantic and then the South Atlantic. On the behalf of the Royal Navy, we are aiming to launch a new shipgirl imminently not only to support the coming battles, but to ensure the continued good condition of this port's shipgirl launch facilities for any future launches and to provide us with an added shipgirl to contain the steady increase in the number of Iron Blood shipgirls. I've also already spoken with my counterpart in the Iris Navy as well. I suspect that Vice Admiral Fabre will comment on his own navy's status in containing the Iron Blood."

That was something that neither Unionist had considered. When ethics and risks are put aside, the First Sea Lord had a good point in justifying the launch of Charybdis when it came to the status of a shipgirl launch facility. From comments that had been given to the Unionists, it had apparently been a while since any new shipgirls had been added to the ranks of the Royal Navy. Ensuring the correct operation of a launch facility with something like a light cruiser could guarantee that it would work without a hitch when needed for something like a capital ship. And due to his political connections and duties, it made sense that he would be concerned with any actions by his nation's chief rival in the region. From a purely practical standpoint, the admiral was not foolish in seeking the launch of Charybdis.

Unaware of the Unionist's thoughts, Admiral Arthur had concluded his own report and he signaled to Vice Admiral Fabre to give his own report. He did so by saying, "The political concerns laid out by Admiral Sir Arthur are echoed in the Iris Orthodoxy. To assist in the coming battles and containment of the Iron Blood and the Sardegna Empire, our navy is presently searching for extra wisdom cubes recovered from battles with the Sirens so that we might also bolster our numbers of shipgirls. I'm not at liberty to saw how many cubes we lack or presently have, but it suffices me to say that we need more. The political situation of the Orthodoxy remains fragile as much of our country continues to rebuild from the conclusion of the last war but the worst fears for the collapse of the Fifth Republic appear to be behind us. The areas immediately surrounding our ports are secure so that naval operations along with civilian shipping are able to proceed without interruptions from internal foes. Operationally, our recent skirmishes with the Sirens have been victorious. But there have been no such pitched battles since the Battle of Golfo Ártabra off the Atlantic coast of Spain or the Raid on Marseille in the Mediterranean Sea. A significant portion of the Iris Navy's shipgirl forces are committed to the coming campaign but arrangements have already been made with the Royal Navy to make up the difference until the arrival of our expected shipgirls."

It was funny really. In an unprecedented age of technology that spans the globe, Las Vegas didn't know that the situation in the Iris Orthodoxy was so bad to cause serious fear for the possible fall of the Fifth Republic or that the security around just ports would be a victory in and of itself. Just how bad was the state of continental Europe still? Or how bad was censorship inside the Orthodoxy? Unless he got a chance in to ask someone with the Iris he's going to be working with, it seemed that only time would tell.

Oh shoot. It was his turn. Everyone at the table was looking at him. In turn, he looked to Supreme Commander Roscoe for directions. His operation was highly classified after all. The old man came though for him with the order, "Give the absolute basics of information, Commander. Your operation is still highly classified."

"Yes, sir," answered the commander. He then cleared his throat much like Admiral Arthur, but unlike the admiral, it seemed that clearing his throat didn't help at all. He dared not try again lest he look like he was stalling for time. He forced his mouth open and alluded to the recent successes of Operation Rumor Mill with, "Due to recent breakthroughs in intelligence and a successful operation that concluded only two days ago, a significant Siren asset in the North Atlantic was neutralized. Transatlantic voyages—at least between Europe and North America—should be much easier now. I can't comment on the South Atlantic though."

He stopped speaking and rather than simply allow the speaking to transition to Commodore Belanger, Admiral Arthur silently requested to Roscoe, "Supreme Commander, a word if I may?" As the presiding authority, Roscoe gave consent for Admiral Arthur to speak. To the Union officer, he remarked, "Pardon me for saying, but that report does not fill me with much confidence. Regardless of whether or not the crossing 'should be much easier' as you say, the coming campaign will commence regardless. However, how certain are you that a crossing will be easier now?"

The commander carefully considered this question for a few seconds before he replied, "Reasonably certain. If I were to assign a number to how certain, I'd say ninety-percent certain. I'm unable to elaborate concerning the intelligence breakthroughs that have happened, but according to a particular reliable source, there was a Siren asset and it has been destroyed. This asset's destruction has been verified by my own eyes. However, the Sirens are crafty and they may have alternatives. I recommend giving a stretch of time so that the situation of the North Atlantic may be monitored to ensure that my belief is indeed reality."

Admiral Arthur turned to Roscoe to allow him to reply, which he did with, "We're already going through with your recommendation, Commander. The operation is not to set sail until another two weeks from now. You will have all that time to monitor the region for any signs of unexpected change. Your efforts will be joined by as many avenues of intelligence as are available to us to ensure that we will have as safe a sail as possible."

"Thank you sir. I'll do my part see to it that all is as I believe it to be."

Commodore Belanger requested that he be permitted to speak. Permission was given. To the commander he relayed, "Yesterday when we met, you said that the magic behind Calico Jack was all smoke and mirrors. Is monitoring this situation also smoke and mirrors? What's your method?"

Enough people already knew the trick, so he might as well just share it with those present who didn't know. He said, "I'm a codebreaker. Monitoring the situation will be done with intercepted radio traffic."

"Ahhhh. I see," replied Belanger to the revelation. "That puts a lot of the magic of Calico Jack into context. Thank you." Then back to Roscoe he concluded, "That is all for my question."

"Very good," Roscoe said. "If there are no more questions for the commander, then we will proceed." There was silence for a few seconds that showed there were no more questions. So, he ordered Belanger to give his own report.

The commodore began, "When I checked in with Queen Elizabeth yesterday regarding the operational situation, it seems that the only consideration worthy of note is the successful Battle of the Thames. Patrol fleets regularly encounter Siren raider flotillas but so far, all of those engagements have concluded with our victory. Our forces are as prepared as they can be for the coming campaign."

"Good. Good," affirmed Roscoe with the conclusion of that final report. He looked to Lieutenant Commander Larcom who was scribbling viciously at a notepad she had been using to write down what was being said. But she paused to look up and give her commanding officer a nod. This allowed him to continue by saying, "Thank you all very much for your reports that have brought us all to the same level of understanding needed for the coming future. But there is more that none here know." Naturally, the whole room sat up straighter in their seats. Many had apprehensive expressions, but not the Unionists. They had a suspicion about what was to be said. Roscoe sighed deeply, sensing the coming storm, and then he surrendered to it. He said, "It has already been arranged at the highest levels. The Iron Blood Kriegsmarine are also going to participate in the coming campaign."

Suddenly, order and civility was forgotten and all hell broke loose. Most in the conference room jumped out of their seats and proclaimed their distaste in loud voices, seeking to be heard over one another. Without coordination, those who had risen converged at the head of the table. Las Vegas and Nashville was not among them. Neither was Commodore Belanger. He simply looked exasperated. Vice Admiral Fabre also stood, but he attempted to bring Richelieu and Saint Louis back to their seats. There was just one other shipgirl who remained seated. It was Hood. But she did not look well.

What Las Vegas saw as he looked at Hood was just...wrong. For the first time since he had met a shipgirl, Hood had an unfocused, thousand yard stare that was pointed to the wall behind the two Unionists. She brought herself back to the present, distress still clear as day upon her features.

A few questions weight on Las Vegas's mind. How could they do this? How could we do this? Bring someone back from the dead so that they can go back into the line of fire. It's cruel on the part of the forces that launch shipgirls. But regardless, it has already happened. So, might as well take responsibility for that. Las Vegas wasn't entirely sure how someone would take responsibility for launching shipgirls, but he had to admire their fortitude in the face of their fate.

He watched as Hood, in an effort to calm herself down, picked up her already half-drank cup of tea and attempted to bring it to her lips. Key word being "attempted." She was shaking too much to do it successfully. He had seen enough. In spite of what Nashville had told him earlier about not always needing to help, he had to go to the battle cruiser's aid. He glanced towards the front of the conference hall. The crowd around Roscoe proceeded unabated and with little containment aside from coming to physical blows or shoving. He looked at Nashville. When her eyes met his, he could see her empathy for what has been asked of these women. Calling an enemy of yesterday a friend of tomorrow will always be hard. To her he said, "Nash. I need you to go up there and speak for the two of us if we get called on. It'll take a bit for the hysteria to die down, but I want you to be a voice of reason."

Nashville nodded and glanced at Hood, already knowing what her commander was about to do. This was the first time he had asked her to represent the both of them. In any other circumstance, she'd feel happy and floaty that he trusts her that much, but that's not the case right now. She replied to him, "Okay. Thanks for trusting me."

The duo stood and separated for their different destinations. Nashville to the front of the room, while her commander walked around the back of the table to take a seat in the chair that had been Belfast's. Whether or not Hood noticed him sit down, he didn't know. She kept trying and failing to drink some of her tea. Her tremors made the liquid slosh around inside its cup seemingly trying to escape and soil the woman's skirt.

He finally spoke to the woman with just enough volume to be heard despite the din from the front of the room. "Miss Hood, would you please hand me your tea?"

She finally acknowledged the man in some way by stopping her attempts to drink and her view slowly turned his way. She looked tired. Wordlessly, she accepted the man's request, and held out her half-drank cup. He took it from her and he leaned slightly to place it back onto the small plate where Hood had picked it up from. He leaned back into his seat and quickly saw that in the absence of something to distract herself with, Hood had taken to wringing her hands on her lap, with her view fixated completely on the action. She seemed defeated.

A part of him had the instinct of wanting to bring the woman in for a hug. But that was quickly rejected because all things considered, he wasn't very close with Hood. At least not close enough to do something as intimate as that. So, he asked her, "This is quite the turn of events, isn't it?"

"It is," she confessed quietly. He had to strain to hear her properly. Finally, she was able to stop wringing her hands but this was only done by occupying her hands with a worse action, which was grasping tightly onto her own skirt, thus wrinkling and risking tearing it. She surmised aloud, "You must think me weak, for being like this."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he promised her. "I have seen too much of your fortitude to think anything else."

A ghost of a smile came to her lips, but it fell quickly. "Thank you," came from her lips.

He then proceeded to request, "May I ask you a question? It's a personal one."

Hood found herself trusting the foreigner. She had learned her lesson from before. He really did only want to help. "You may," she consented.

"Do you hate the Iron Blood? Like, really hate them?"

She didn't respond immediately. Rather, she dug deep within herself seeking the answer for that. She inspected her own heart, mind, and soul. But try as she might, she could not find what she was looking for. Her heart refused to harden. She recalled, "They did so much to us. We did it right back. I feel like I should hate them." She paused for a quick sniffle and then continued, "But I can't find any hatred. I…" She trailed off and her words stopped coming. Calico Jack scooted his chair just a bit closer to the woman. Hopefully proximity would suffice when a hug would be inappropriate. She took heart and managed to say what was left on her mind. "I don't hate them… They frighten me. I'm frightened...by her. I don't know if I can ever forgive her for what she's done."

The man had a pretty good guess for who Hood was referring to, but it would be best not to assume, so he asked that she specify by asking, "Frightened by who?"

"Bismarck," she whispered. "Does she think of me as often as I think of her? Does she think of the men that were killed? Is she as scared of me as I am of her?"

"I don't know the answers to those questions. I suspect that those answers would have to come from her own mouth. But would you be willing to listen to a story that I recently happened upon?"

Hood became curious to see where this man was taking the discussion. But her faith remained unshaken concerning his intentions to help. She consented with a simple, "Yes, please."

He recounted, "I had the opportunity to visit Trafalgar Square in London after waking up. Among the monuments and statues of the square and nearby, one in particular caught my eye. Are you familiar with the story of Edith Cavell?"

Recognition flashed upon Hood's face and that somewhat displaced her distress. She remembered, "I haven't heard that name in years. I recall that it was quite the event in the early 1920s when her monument was erected. Word of it reached even my decks."

"For a person of such caliber, I can see why. Can you imagine her experiences? Working as a nurse in Iron Blood-occupied Belgium during the First World War. Not discriminating between nationalities despite being an Englishwoman herself. And helping allied soldiers escape out of the occupied country. But then she would be caught, tried for treason, convicted, and executed. But her monument has an inscription of something she said the night before her death. She said, 'Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness for anyone.'" He paused for a moment to allow Hood the opportunity to comment. She did not, so he continued to speak, "If Miss Cavell was so willing to forgive her executors in the face of certain death, how much more reason do we, being among the living, have to forgive those who wrong us? You're so close Miss Hood. So close. You have no hatred but the bitterness over what has been done remains. You have patriotism, but more is asked of you."

The woman shuddered with sadness. She rebutted, "It's a hard thing that you ask of me. Am I to forget my crew or what they died for?"

"No. I would never ask such a horrible thing from you. But I will ask you to make a choice. This isn't working. You must see that. This cycle of distrust, anger, fear, and not forgiving will produce war after war until the end of time. Would you like to perpetuate that? Or would you like to take part in a great experiment—one that if it works, can ensure the peaceful happiness of those who will come after us and the peaceful rest of those who have left us?"

Silence descended between the two people. Even though there was still feverish activity at the front of the hall, it wasn't so pitched at it had been. Both Hood and Calico Jack saw that it was starting to die down with Roscoe slowly regaining control of the situation. The battle cruiser and the codebreaker's eyes again met. Tears rolled down the woman's face and her breathing was ragged. Once again, the man's hand dove for one of his pockets. He produced his trusty handkerchief and held it out in offering to her. She thanked him and took it, dabbing her eyes before handing it back to him. Her tremors had subsided. Finally, Hood gave her answer. "I will do as you have asked. I will take part in this great experiment."

He himself became somewhat emotional, recognizing the significance of this moment. "Thank you so much. I understand that this is important coming from you, even if I cannot imagine how much."

"I thank you as well. This feels right. So, let us pray that things go right," she replied.

"There might be a hiccup or two, but I'm fairly confident that they will. But only time will tell, it being the ultimate judge concerning this matter." His eyes looked back towards the front. The group was starting to disperse and return to their seats. It seems that his talk with Hood had not gone unnoticed. Regardless, he concluded to the woman, "I should probably return to my seat. But again, thank you for listening."

"Your welcome," she said.

He scooted the chair he was sitting in back to where it was, and he stood up to return to where he originally was. He sat down and not long after, people finally returned to their seats. Nashville returned to his side and sat down. Rather than speak, she flashed him a thumbs up, which he replied to in kind. The room was once again eerily quiet and that allowed Roscoe to once again speak. "As I had said before that outburst, the Iron Blood are going to be contributing a counter-raiding flotilla to the upcoming operation and the campaign that will follow. This has been arranged in the upper echelons of all involved governments and is being done for the purposes of relaxing tensions between the Azur Lane Alliance and the Crimson Axis. As I am certain all here can surmise, this is also expected to be a propaganda boon and a boost of morale on all involved home fronts. The fact that this is happening is a good sign for a peaceful future."

Nobody could argue with that logic about peaceful futures, nor did they have the authority to do so. Regardless, concerns remained. Queen Elizabeth got the supreme commander's attention and she was permitted to speak. "Do we know the composition of the fleet that the Kriegsmarine are going to contribute?"

"Presently no. But we will find out in short order."

The answer was unsatisfying to anyone present, but it was the truth. Then, Richelieu got Roscoe's permission to speak. She asked, "Who is going to command the Iron Blood fleet?"

"I suppose that this is as good a time as any to get onto that," he sighed. He then looked towards Lieutenant Commander Larcom and nodded. She produced an envelope and passed it to Roscoe. Everyone could see that on the envelope was the stylized black cross of the Iron Blood. He held it up and said, "Commander. These are your orders."

Every single eye in the room turned squarely towards the Union officer. He did not like that, but he couldn't help but take a moment to see the various stunned expressions that many displayed at this unexpected development. But it was expected by the Unionists themselves, having had their own suspicions of this very thing for several days now. Rather than stretch the moment out, the man decided to get it over with. He scooted his chair out from the table, stood up, and then made his way towards Roscoe to accept the envelope. Roscoe held it out and the commander grabbed the end of it, but when he tried to pull his hand back, he was obstructed. Roscoe had not slackened his grip on his end of the envelope. This got the younger man's attention and he looked at the older man questioningly. The supreme commander had an expression of dead seriousness as he said, "Commander. Even though you have an officer's commission in the Kriegsmarine, you are not their first choice as fleet commander. But somehow, Axis Chairwoman Hara has persuaded the Iron Blood to take a bloody massive risk by allowing you to be put in command of this fleet. Your actions and successes or failures can either help or hurt this diplomatic effort. However, there is no denying that this opportunity is your chance to figuratively jam your foot in the door and build a personal rapport among that navy's shipgirls. Failure is not an option. Do you understand me?"

Originally, the commander had expected to just be attached to an Iron Blood fleet, not be ordered to lead one. But it didn't matter because in nary a moment, the man with no name's expression hardened with determination. He made up his mind and he would see this through all the way to victory. He had overcome all obstacles so far and he was confident that this one would be subjected to his will just the same. With certainty in his heart and in his mind, he replied, "I understand perfectly sir. Thank you for the opportunity. I won't let you or the chairwoman down." He genuinely was thankful as well. This opportunity was Roscoe and Hara trying to help Operation Rumor Mill's efforts among the Iron Blood by opening the door that he is to figuratively get his foot into.

This answer satisfied the wizened old sailor and he released the envelope with the commander's orders. "Good," he stated. But before he dismissed the commander, Roscoe added on, "Some of the orders contained within are classified for your eyes only. But other details pertain to the upcoming operation. Share the appropriate information with Vice Admiral Fabre, Commodore Belanger, and anyone else who is presently here at your earliest convenience."

"Yes sir."

"Excellent. Return to your seat, and then we will carry onto specifics for this operation." The commander did so and when he was situated, attention returned towards the supreme commander. He continued to explain the operation. "So far, it has already been explained that the Royal Navy, the Iris Navy, and the Kriegsmarine will participate in the operation. It has been heavily implied already, but to ensure absolute clarity, we shall also be joined by a fleet from the Eagle Union Navy, who is hosting all fleets in New York Harbor pending the commencement of the actual operation. The Union Navy fleet will be under the direct command of Rear Admiral Weston Randall who commands the shipgirl fleet stationed in that port. Overarching operational command will be under Vice Admiral Roland Sokal, who is commander of the Eagle Union Second Fleet. The principle objective shall be to fool the largest Siren fleets in the North Atlantic into consolidating and then defeating them in battle. However, if the Sirens prove uninterested in a consolidating their forces, there are enough numbers of friendly forces to engage in smaller battles over the region. The fleets would be setting sail for the Eagle Union immediately if not for the intelligence situation's imposed delay that I had explained earlier. Are there any questions?"

Vice Admiral Fabre had one. He asked, "Why is the operation to commence from New York Harbor?"

"There's an abundance of supplies in that harbor. Oil and ammunition, specifically. A rendezvous at sea immediately before the battle would cost too much oil and limit our fleets' ability to linger for an extended battle."

Now there was a question from Commodore Belanger, "How soon can we get the information from the orders that were just handed to the commander?"

This question took a bit of thought on part of the supreme commander. Roscoe ventured to say, "The commander has some business that will take place immediately following this. But after that, I leave it to his discretion. Would you be willing to answer that question, Commander?"

The man in question thought for a few moments. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I would like to have time to go over them privately. However, I will be able to get the pertinent information to you before the end of the day. Perhaps we could schedule a smaller meeting this evening so that both you and the Vice Admiral along with whoever else you two may wish to bring along can see what information we have."

Commodore Belanger nodded and looking towards Fabre, he asked, "Vice Admiral? Is this acceptable to you?"

The Irisman answered, "Yes. Me and Richelieu be available for the remainder of the day."

Then to Queen Elizabeth Belanger asked, "Your Majesty?"

"It's acceptable. Meeting back here would work best."

"Marvelous," remarked the commodore. Finally turning towards the commander, he asked, "Is meeting here at 1900 acceptable?"

"We can do that," affirmed the Unionist.

Now that that particular line of business was complete, there were no more questions. Roscoe dismissed all who had been present, and the people began to file for the door. Suddenly, Las Vegas got an idea. To Nashville he asked, "Hey, could you do me a big favor?"

Nashville answered instinctively, "Yeah. What do you need me to do?"

"Can you please go out and keep Sirius from going away just yet? I'm gonna ask permission to speak with her from the supreme commander or maybe even see if we can get her to be allowed into the meeting. We'll go along with whatever we're allowed to do."

"You got it," replied Nashville. And she was on her way out of the room. She managed to catch up with Belfast, who was the final person leaving.

This left Roscoe, Larcom, Arthur, Arthur's staff member, and the commander left in the conference room. The commander drew near just as Arthur gave his own order to his staff member. "Go and retrieve the wisdom cube from where it is." The nameless staff member answered to the affirmative and left the room as well.

Larcom took the initiative before Roscoe gave her any orders and said, "I'll go and retrieve Doctor Anzeel. I'll also make sure she doesn't get sidetracked on her way here."

To that, Roscoe said, "Thank you Leftenant Commander. We will await your return with the doctor."

After saying that, Larcom also left the room and naturally, the two Englishmen looked to regard the Unionist. Seeing his cue, the commander requested to Roscoe, "With your permission sir, I'd like to speak with Sirius who is waiting outside. Her sister is the one we're going to be discussing. It feels proper that her opinions be considered too, unless she can be permitted to join this meeting."

"Unfortunately, we cannot have her admitted. You may speak with her however," Roscoe immediately said. Admiral Arthur opened his mouth to object, but the supreme commander was having none of it, so he cut off the objection by adding on, "But make it quick. You have until either the wisdom cube arrives or Larcom returns with Doctor Anzeel, whichever comes first."

"Understood. Thank you sir," he quickly replied and he left the room with some haste.

Sure enough, Nashville had been successful in finding and delaying the maid in question. The last of those who had participated in the council had already turned the corner to take the stairs down and away from where the trio of people were. To Nashville, he lauded, "Good job in catching Sirius. Thanks for doing that for me."

"Sure thing," Nashville replied.

Naturally, the man's eyes were guided to the maid in question. Sirius appeared like she hadn't slept in the past forty-eight hours but she remained as still and impassive as she could. He tried to open up with some friendliness. "Hi Sirius. It's good to see you. How have you been today?"

"I've been very distracted today. It's over Charybdis."

"That's understandable. A few too many things have been happening in very quick succession over the past few days. But time is unfortunately short, so I'll jump right into it. There's about to be a meeting to make a final decision about whether Charybdis will be launched or not. Is there anything that you would like to have be considered?"

Sirius had to do a double take. She was surprised to have anyone ask for her opinion. Only a moment later, she felt a rush of emotion that brought tears to her eyes. She had thought that Calico Jack was honorable, and she had called him such before. But now she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was indeed honorable. She managed to choke out, "Thank you so much, honorable master, for asking the thoughts of a lowly maid."

He promised back, "Master or maid has nothing to do with it. Charybdis is your sister. You should be included into this."

She tried her very hardest to gather up her thousands of thoughts and feelings to express them. But it was hard. So hard that it seemed impossible. Her emotions gathered steam and transformed into a raging storm that forbade her to speak. She didn't know what she wanted. She saw the terrible use of the wisdom cube that would be used. But she wanted her sister. Fear… Love… Togetherness… Loneliness… Everything seemed to be closing in on her. She knew that saying nothing means relinquishing the right to speak but to her horror, her tongue refused to work and her heart refused to decide. She only focus on one thing that was seemingly unrelated. She wanted Dido. She wanted her sister back; timidity, patience, and all. Together, they would would have figured out what to do, just like back before Dido left. But she was gone. Never to return.

Nashville saw that this was going nowhere and as she looked at Sirius, she saw a part of herself. It was that part that was so scared to be alone. "Sirius?" she asked trying to get the maid's attention. It failed and Sirius continued to look down towards her own feet while sniffling silently. She had to do something else. Slowly, Nashville reached for one of Sirius's own hands and took it into her grasp and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Sirius gasped. "Dido?" she muttered soundlessly. She quickly recalled so many different things with her beloved sister. Whenever they had to do some task together. Whenever either of them had been scared or had done something wrong. Whenever they were even going somewhere together. All of these things shared one thing in common. It always started with Dido taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze in her own.

Something strange happened in the heart of the maid. When it would be so easy to recall the familiar action of a loved one only to be cruelly reminded that this action was just the tender mercy of meeting a kindly stranger, Sirius automatically latched onto a different interpretation. To her, this was a sign. Though through a surrogate, Sirius knew her late sister plenty well enough to know that in this situation, she'd try her hardest to assure her younger sister that everything would be okay, even if she herself wasn't sure. And in life when one can be desperate for the smallest hint of relief, this was enough for Sirius in this moment.

The maid finally looked up towards Nashville, with her gaze delaying for just a moment on her held hand. But when their shared crimson colored eyes met, it was Sirius who spoke. "Thank you. It's okay now."

"Are you sure?" Nashville tested.

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Okay."

Now, Sirius looked back towards Calico Jack. She could only offer him a small smile for the moment. He smiled back to her as reassuringly as he could and she asked, "Is Doctor Anzeel going to be part of deliberations?"

"Yeah she is. Lieutenant Commander Larcom is out getting her now."

"That's relieving," Sirius admitted. A part of her fears abated just a bit further. Then she took another second to two to gather herself and confirm her decision about what she wanted. She requested, "If Doctor Anzeel believes it can be done safely, then please… launch Charybdis."

A part of the man was of the mind to try and persuade Sirius to agree with his initial thought that it was too dangerous to proceed. But the fact was that he knows very little about wisdom cubes and what makes them tick. If Doctor Anzeel was confident it could be pulled off, then he'd agree with the expert. So, Calico Jack answered, "You got it. We'll back up whatever decision the the doctor makes then. She's the expert, we'll go with her opinions."

"Thank you," Sirius whispered with tears still in her eyes.

Nashville still held the maid's hand so she tugged on it just a bit to get her attention again. It worked and Nashville softly ordered, "Now come here." She released Sirius's hand and she brought her arms out for a hug. Sirius accepted the embrace, returning it in kind. They held it for a few seconds but did not say anything to each other. Eventually, the hug ended and when it was gone, Nashville offered her own comfort. "It'll be alright. We'll figure out something. We always do."

"Thank you," Sirius repeated herself again. Then towards Calico Jack she requested, "May I embrace you too?"

From having seen him with Glorious, Sirius had a feeling that she already knew the answer. But she still valued politeness, so she asked. Unsurprisingly, he accepted it and just like with Nashville, she was again on the receiving end of a hug. This experience was novel to her because it's not often that hugging a man happens to her. There's simply not many of those to go around.

She was about to thank him for his help and reaffirm her trust in him, but there was a sudden crash from the bottom of the stairs as the doors to the hall were thrown open from the outside. There was a loud shout that went, "SIRIUS?! ARE YOU STILL HERE?!" It was Doctor Anzeel's voice. The maid's hug with Calico Jack had instantly been cut short by the initial crash and the trio of people were already rushing towards the stairs that led down.

They reached it in only a few seconds and Sirius responded. She wasn't nearly as loud as the doctor had been, but she was still loud enough to be heard down the twisting stairs. "I'm up here doctor!"

There was the sound of charging footfalls going up the stairs. Doctor Anzeel curved around the steps far enough to look up at the top and see Sirius. Anzeel was out of breath. If the onlookers wer to guess, she had ran from wherever she was. She hadn't been helped by the backpack she carried. "Thank God I managed to catch you here!" she exclaimed. She flew up the rest of the way as fast as she could, taking the stairs two steps at a time. Knowing that the doctor was seeking her out, Sirius stepped forward to meet Anzeel. With zero delay, Doctor Anzeel wrapped Sirius up in a massive hug and she proclaimed, "Don't worry one bit, Sirius! As long as the wisdom cube hasn't been damaged, I have just the idea in mind that can ensure the safe construction of your sister!"

And that's a chapter. I gotta say, I'm pretty satisfied with this one. And I'm especially satisfied with the timing. Another chapter in just two weeks. For those of you who have been reading this story for a while, you might remember a time when I was able to get a chapter out almost once a week. But then over the past almost two years, I've been in a slump. I won't say that I'm completely out of that slump just yet, but this is a step in the right direction. I'm trying to turn writing into a daily habit again, and while I haven't been perfect, so far so good. But about the chapter itself, what did you think? Good? Bad? Please share me your thoughts. But anyway, I see some reviews that need responses, so I'd best get onto that. Actually, right before I do that, it looks like this website is glitching out a bit at least for me. If you've posted a review in the past few days, I'm sorry if I haven't been able to reply, I don't know if the glitching is impacting my ability to read reviews. Anyway, onto those reviews that I can see.

Hey there, Vexatriss. I'm glad that I was able to make your day a bit better with my last chapter. Here's to hoping this chapter does the same. And don't worry, I don't plan to dally before getting going with the next chapter.

Hello, Cemalidor. That's fantastic news. I'm so grateful that you'll be sticking around. I certainly plan to keep this story as one worth reading. You have a good point about Sheffield being the most commando-like among the bunch of maids. I'm certainly considering showcasing that in the future. There's a bit more than just Commodore Belanger who are new to the story with this chapter, but I do plan for him to be a man of quality.

Greetings, Touhoufanatic. That's a reasonable assumption of yours. I don't know if I'd say, "sometime soon," but it's definitely in the cards to happen at some point.

What's up, Bell Chou'un? I know that I'm moving slowly with progressing Las Vegas's character to get him better with women. I can assure you though that he won't be like that forever. I'm especially hoping to make him better in the next major arc of the story.

It's good to be chatting with you again, Zander22122. That bit of introducing the Deep Seer's right hand men was such a fun segment to write so it's a joy to hear that you like them. I had originally planned for the Seer's vision to be metaphorical, but now that you mention it, I could also have that be a literal view into the future. We'll see. You have a knack for catching things the exact way that I intend them to come across. I'm so glad that you caught that fact about Admiral Arthur. He may not agree with the main characters, but I'm trying to convey that he isn't their enemy. But about using a drop of water to teach chaos theory… I'm beating myself up. I totally spaced making that reference when it would have been perfect. My bad. Maybe I'll use the reference at some other time. I'm glad that you think that about the Heralds. To me, villains who want to conquer the world are a dime a dozen, but a villain that wants to enthrone themselves as a god? That's something that's got my attention. I mean not to diminish the world conquerors of fiction, of course. I actually hadn't considered the possibility of having Las Vegas share a dream with Shinano after being knocked unconscious. I'll keep it in mind.

Hi, ErnstLindemann. Whoops. Yeah, I should have mentioned that bit about sleeping normally. So, I did it first thing this chapter. But anyway, I'm glad that you were able to enjoy the last chapter. I hope you were able to enjoy this one too.

Anyway, I guess that's all I got for now. Thank you for reading and I'll see you again soon. 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.