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.

35. Chapter 35: The Dunning-Kruger Effect

Thanks to all who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. Let's see what happens next.

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

"There is only one duty, only one safe course, and that is to try and be right and not to fear to do or say what you believe to be right."

- Winston Churchill

Chapter 35: The Dunning-Kruger Effect

"What the fuck did you do to this wisdom cube?!" asked a livid Doctor Anzeel to Admiral Sir Arthur.

The Admiral was quick to deflect the doctor's wrath. "I didn't do anything with it. I got it from Supreme Commander Roscoe."

Anzeel redirected her indignation towards Roscoe. And even though he had been prepared to weather the storm of Anzeel's anger, the single glance he had given towards Las Vegas told her what Roscoe's answer was. She immediately forgot the old man and wheeled around to look at the Unionist. Venom dripped from her lips as she required an answer to her next question. "What. The. Hell. Did you do to this?"

Now under pressure by her, Las Vegas wisecracked, "Crack out the Ouija Board doc, 'cause I got it from a guy who last I saw had a mild case of death."

Still unsatisfied, Anzeel turned to look towards the last occupant of the room; Nashville. Try as she might, the doctor wasn't forceful or persuasive enough to get the maid admitted to this meeting to decide if Charybdis would be launched with the present wisdom cube. She wouldn't be the only one not allowed to attend. Lieutenant Commander Larcom and Arthur's staff member would also have to wait outside to guard the door. When Admiral Arthur's staff member passed the retrieved briefcase with the cube within to the admiral and he opened it up, the cube itself was dull, emitting only a fraction of the glowing blue aura that a normal cube would give off. Thus, Doctor Anzeel's questioning.

Nashville backed up her commander by adding, "Yup. It's true. The guy's dead as a doornail. Got his throat ripped out and everything."

Arthur chimed in, "You got this from a man during the London Incident? Is this one of those terrorists that was spoken of?"

Oh yeah, the London Incident was explained as a terrorist attack. And that was true in the sense that there was an organization that staged an attack that harmed person and property, but the definition fell apart in that the Heralds did not appear intent on coercing anyone to do anything. Instead of having to come up with a lie to conceal anything from the first sea lord, the commander was able to say, "Yeah. We aren't one hundred percent sure that the man we got it from was the man responsible for the state of the cube, but given the circumstances of our running into such a man, we assume he was."

"And you said he was dead? A shame. It would have been helpful to capture and question him."

Before anyone was able to reply to Arthur's words, Anzeel once again took control of the conversation by butting in and saying, "That's great and all, but because the guy is dead, we can't grill him for what exactly he did. All we got is what we have in front of us and I have to admit that this is the worst condition I've ever seen a wisdom cube in." While Anzeel had been saying that, she had placed her backpack on the table beside the open briefcase with its contained wisdom cube.

She was searching for something and that allowed Arthur to give a response. "We have intelligence reports that the Sakura Empire likewise used such a cube like this to launch a shipgirl. They have the same technology that we do for launching shipgirls, so I have confidence that this can work."

Doctor Anzeel found what she was looking for a placed it on a table. She slowly turned to be facing directly towards Martin Arthur. She challenged, "Look me in the eyes and repeat that dumbass shit you just said." Arthur sagely decided to not repeat himself and that was plenty cause for her to recount, "I'm well aware that the Sakura Empire did such a thing because I was there for it. It was the mother of all long shots and I allowed myself to be coerced into doing something that should not have worked. Here's why it shouldn't have worked. Just by eye, the wisdom cube that the were using wasn't nearly as drained as this one is. She was a capital ship too, so even with a second completely normal wisdom cube, the girl that was created was so sickly that she spent her first months unconscious and on life support. But I bet something like that doesn't much concern you. So here's something that I bet will. Even now, years later her combat effectiveness is severely limited and she requires pretty constant attention. Even her launch itself was problematic. It was a one in approximately ten thousand chance that we somehow managed to keep the launch from fizzling or going haywire for the almost four-and-a-half hours it took to launch her. If we proceed with this wisdom cube with it in the state it's in, here's what I predict will happen. It will take us a few tries to even get the launch to start, and then when it does, things will appear to go well for a few seconds—ten to fifteen if we're lucky—and then the process will destabilize and fizzle, damaging the facility and leaving you with nothing."

When she had finished that recollection, Doctor Anzeel turned back around and picked up the object that she had placed onto the table. She took an attached probe from the box and held it to the side of the cube. There were a few quiet ticks that identified the tool she held. It was a Geiger Counter.

Noticing the tool and the fact that there was presently a fully intact wisdom cube in a safe in his quarters, Las Vegas felt to ask, "Pardon my ignorance, but wisdom cubes are radioactive?"

"In their inert state, they are very very mildly radioactive. They'd be akin to the amount you'd see in a bunch of bananas. You could handle them safely with just a piece of paper keeping your skin from touching one. But when put into an extremely excited state such as during the launch of a shipgirl, they emit enough radiation to give you Acute Radiation Syndrome and likely kill you after about forty-five seconds of exposure. But this is oversimplifying wisdom cubes by quite a bit. They're radioactive and they can kill you just as easily as something nasty like Strontium-90 or Cobalt-60, but in lower radiation doses that don't kill outright, I've observed extremely unusual phenomena among lab rats that survive the initial exposure. Rather than develop cancer, they develop neurological damage. But most fascinatingly, not all rats are likewise effected."

Things were getting off track again, and this time the doctor was responsible. So, Roscoe stepped up to the plate and said, "That is fascinating doctor. But do you know of any way that we can quote-unquote 'heal' this wisdom cube?"

Rather than immediately respond, the doctor observed out loud, "This cube is just as I suspected. It has less then five-percent of its baseline radiation present. So, it's essentially dead." Then she stood up and set her Geiger Counter down and looked towards Roscoe with a saddened expression. With a slow shake of her head she answered, "This is only the second time that a cube such as this has been recorded on Earth and the first time, not only was it not nearly as bad as this one, it was rashly used instead of being studied. If there is a way to heal it, I don't know what it is."

With that said, Las Vegas looked to his side towards Nashville. She appeared somewhat relieved. Nashville sent him a nod which he returned in kind. Sensing that any discussion was about to come to a close, Nashville finally spoke up to ask, "If you don't mind me askin' doc, but what sorts of things to you think could heal the cube? You know, any wild-ass guesses?"

If any non-shipgirl of the room had asked Doctor Anzeel her feelings on the topic, she would have simply replied that she didn't have a clue. But because one of her beloved shipgirls had asked, she would offer some speculation. She mulled over the question for a few seconds and said, "Wisdom cubes are remarkably finicky. I've found that science can only describe them in part, because over the course of my research, I've discovered that they respond to some decidedly non-scientific stimuli. These would be more metaphysical things such as willpower, hope, and so on. But there is one other thing that I could see helping this cube. Back to those lab rats I had mentioned, I noted that some had a seemingly natural resistance to wisdom cube radiation. I had thought that this was impossible because it's clear that wisdom cubes are not of this world, so how could something native to Earth have a natural adaptation? Some had a higher affinity for what they were going through and in follow up experiments, I found that these rats with higher affinity could in-part excite the cubes. They wouldn't excite the cubes enough to make their radiation dangerous, but there was a notable uptick. However, all the rats died on contact with the cube. I hate to say it, but it looks like we're going to have to fuck around and find out."

Now that got Las Vegas's attention. He asked a follow up question with, "Have you been able to do any experiments with humans?"

"Extremely limited. It's always been through accidental exposure instead of planned experiments because of the ethics involved in experimenting on humans. Most who have touched wisdom cubes have died. And those cubes that touched people who died were unaffected by what happened to them."

"I had suspected that would be the case," he noted back. But then he requested, "But may I have your professional opinion on something?"

Doctor Anzeel's curiosity was stoked and she was drawn to whatever the mathematician had to show her like a moth to a flame. "Yes, you may. What do you have?"

The man held one of his arms forward slightly and with his other hand he slid up his sleeve to reveal the scars he got from holding the very cube they had been discussing. He didn't even have a chance to slide up his other sleeve when Doctor Anzeel gasped loudly and rapidly reached out to grasp the wrist of his now exposed arm. "Jesus Fucking Christ! You held a wisdom cube! And you're alive?! How far up do these scars go?!"

"Up to my elbow. And it's on both arms if that means anything."

Without any warning, much less a request of permission, Anzeel grasped his other still covered arm and slid up that sleeve as well. Sure enough, there was the same latticework of square scars that comes from handling a wisdom cube without protection.

She let him go and rather than say anything, she began to practically vibrate with excitement. This went on for only a few seconds when she chided herself, "Okay Tova, calm down. Calm down. Just… Calm…" She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She finally came down from her excitement and said, "I don't know what that terrorist did with this cube but it looks like you're at least partly to blame for its present state. But there's a bit more of the story when it comes to experiments with wisdom cube affinity. That damaged wisdom cube that the Sakura used had actually been involved in an accident involving a scientist of theirs that had survived holding a cube. He had only held the cube for a split second, so his scars were only on one hand and they only went a few centimeters up his arm. From cursory tests it was found that his newfound affinity was off the charts. It seems those who can survive touching the cubes have their wisdom cube affinity supercharged." Her smile grew again and she chuckled for just a moment. She confessed, "You might have royally fucked up this wisdom cube, but regardless, I may have misjudged you, Commander. It seems that there's much more to you than meets the eye." She now looked towards Roscoe to request, "This guy would make the greatest research assistant. Rather than just the next few weeks, can I have him permanently?"

Nashville began to panic.

Roscoe's answer was easy. He rejected her by stating, "If there were any other circumstances than what we are dealing with, I would allow it. But unfortunately I cannot permit that."

Nashville calmed back down.

For her part, Anzeel deflated somewhat. She sighed dramatically and acknowledged, "Ffffiiiine. You are the boss." So, she then directed towards Las Vegas, "Alright. So, it looks like I have take advantage while you're here. The fact you can survive such lengthy exposure while holding a wisdom cube means that you must have one hell of a will to work with. And I can think of no better time than the present to see if your wisdom cube affinity can do anything with this cube. Could you please touch it and while you do, could you to muster up as much willpower or hope or something like that as you can?"

Las Vegas recalled what had happened when he held Mordred's wisdom cube. It glowed brighter in his hand. He didn't know what was happening at the time, but right here and now, he was more than confident of what was about to happen. He asked, "Rather than just touch it, would it be alright if I picked it up?"

The permission came from Admiral Arthur. After all, it was his cube. "Go ahead commander. I'm interested to see what may happen."

"Excellent. Thank you," he replied. Then he reached out with his still gloved hand and he found himself hesitating. This cube had almost killed him. It had almost killed his friends. It almost killed Nashville. He knew what it had been used for and who its former masters had been. He could only imagine the madness that the cube had gone through to get to the present. A feeling of righteous indignation bubbled up from within the man and it grew in strength. So much evil had come from this wisdom cube's use. If it can be saved, then let its use be for good. Willpower flooded through his mind and the moment he touched the cube and lifted it from its place, it changed.

It could only be described as majestic to see that which barely clung to life be brought back from the brink. The cube's originally dim glow grew in power all the way until the familiar blue luster of an unmolested wisdom cube cascaded into the room. But this wisdom cube wasn't finished yet. It had arisen from its sleep to greet its holder's affinity, but it had not responded to its holder's willpower. Its light grew even brighter, forcing all the occupants of the room to shield their eyes. But the holder could feel the cube's actions in his hands. It vibrated in his grasp, purring with delight and vigor. The heat of the living returned to the item, but the temperature never grew beyond what would be comfortable.

This would only go on for a few seconds with the room stunned to silence before the commander felt that the spectacle had gone on long enough. His will waned and the cube dimmed from its heightened state. He set it down on the table and let go of it. Everyone who had been shielding their eyes permitted themselves to look upon the wisdom cube. Gone was its previous dimness. Now it shone with the same splendor as its brethren.

"Abracadabra," remarked Las Vegas.

"Oh my god," amazed Doctor Anzeel. "It. You. How?"

The man was tempted to recount what happened to Mordred's cube on Nashville's deck following the superweapon's demise, but that hadn't been as overpoweringly glorious as what had just transpired. He wisely held his tongue and offered no explanation.

Anzeel stammered for a time and then retrieved her Geiger Counter. It ticked more than before. After only a few seconds of this, she set down the instrument and looked towards Admiral Arthur and Supreme Commander Roscoe. She said, "If this wisdom cube can maintain steady readings between now and the launch, I think we can pull this off. But before you say anything else, I want to say that no matter what it looks like now, there's no denying that this wisdom cube is still a one-of-a-kind. We're in completely uncharted waters now. I demand that I am given time to develop a method that can make this launch work without a hitch."

Now much more confident in his position to get what he wanted, Arthur asked, "What do you want to do?"

The doctor recounted her earlier prediction, "If this launch is going to go wrong, it will do so quickly. On the order of seconds. So, I've long tried to think of a way that we can launch shipgirls in just seconds. I'll spare you the scientific principles, but I need time to complete the development of something that I'm calling, 'Quick Finishers.' It's an algorithm that we can apply to launches to finish them instantly." Unbeknownst to anyone but her, the doctor had mixed in some dishonesty into that statement. She'd be thrilled if these Quick Finisher Algorithms shave any amount of time off launches but has some doubts that it can be done instantly. But then again, she found herself a mathematician who hopefully knows what he's talking about for this very reason.

"Can you do what you need to do in a week?" inquired the first sea lord.

That's odd. Everyone else in the room expected Admiral Sir Arthur to say something like, "You have twenty-four hours," or something like that. What was it that made the man so generous out of nowhere? As it turns out, it wasn't out of the good of his heart. He explained, "The launch facility has fallen into disrepair following its time of neglect. It will take time to be brought up to full operation. I've managed to get a month's delay for repairs rushed down to a week. Rest assured, I'd have the launch tomorrow if I could. So, you have a week to do whatever you need to do."

"I can work with that," Anzeel affirmed.

Admiral Arthur nodded and noted, "Good." But then to Roscoe he smugly challenged, "You're very silent Supreme Commander. Hadn't you come here with the purpose of thwarting this aim of mine?"

Roscoe admitted, "I had. And I would have as well, had I not witnessed the same spectacle you did." His gaze fell upon the wisdom cube that sat on the table still shining brightly. Everyone else's gaze followed his and they spent a few seconds regarding the ethereal item.

"Quite the plot device, huh?" remarked Las Vegas.

"Indeed," replied Roscoe. But then a thought occurred to the old man. It was a miracle that the Heralds of the Deep hadn't made an attempt to recover the cube yet. If word of the plan to use it in a launch has already leaked out, then the Herald's last chance to get it back is rapidly approaching. The cube isn't safe with Admiral Sir Arthur who is mostly ignorant to the threat that lingers in the shadows. So, he rapidly came up with a solution. He requested, "Admiral? I will not hinder you further than I already have. But I do have a request that I want you to hear."

"What is it?" came Arthur's reply.

"For the purpose of aiding the doctor's efforts which are to be assisted by the commander, can the cube be in their possession for the next week up through the launch itself?"

Arthur smelled deeper intentions beneath Roscoe's request and he flat out didn't like Anzeel or her flippancy for authority. But he considered it more. If the cube could stay in the possession of the commander, the man's wisdom cube affinity can ensure the good state of the wisdom cube for the time between now and the launch. Yes. That might actually be a good idea. Finally, he answered Roscoe to deliver his own caveat. "I will permit it. But it is to remain with the commander and no one else. I feel his affinity for the cube will ensure its continual good condition until the launch."

That was perfect for Roscoe. He had been hoping to transfer it to the commander's care anyway to guard it from the Heralds, and now there was that added reason that Arthur pointed out. Roscoe accepted the terms with, "Consider it done." He looked to the commander in question and said, "You heard the agreement, commander. The cube is in your care until it is called upon for the launch. Take good care of it."

"Yes, sir," he accepted. He understood why Roscoe had made his request to Admiral Arthur. The commander himself was concerned with the Heralds trying anything even now. So, he approached the cube as it sat on the table and he asked himself how he's going to do transport it. He didn't have his backpack with him and he had just been carrying the binder than Anzeel had given him that morning. He set the binder down on the table beside the cube and asked Arthur, "Could you please keep the briefcase with you?"

Thinking that the intent of the commander had been to allow easier contact with the cube, which was something the first sea lord was in favor of, he permitted it, closed the briefcase, and picked it up off of the table.

This left the Unionist with one shiny cube. It shone too much to simply conceal under his jacket beside his concealed weapons. He repeated what he did on Nashville's deck following the defeat of Mordred. Only instead of using his jacket, he withdrew his handkerchief and he picked up the cube that shone slightly brighter just as Mordred's cube had and he wrapped it in the fabric which muffled its light well enough. He then put it under his jacket and using the binder that Anzeel had given him, he pinned it against his body. "Right after this, we'll being going back to Nashville's hull. I don't plan for the cube to leave there unless absolutely necessary or for the launch itself."

In a bizarrely humorous break from the seriousness, both Roscoe and Arthur said, "Very good," at the same time. This act had obviously taken both men by surprise and they glanced towards each another dumbly, both now having lost their train of thought for how to proceed.

Filling this void, Anzeel took advantage and rotated around to the commander and Nashville. "I had been originally planning to work on the Quick Finisher somewhere else here in port, but would it be alright if we work aboard your hull?" That last part had been directed unsurprisingly squarely at Nashville.

Nashville actually liked that idea. If a woman is to be in close proximity with her commander for extended periods, then having it be aboard her hull where she can feel what they're doing is best. "Yeah, I'm alright with that."

"Awesome. I'll find your hull and we'll get going at 0900 tomorrow morning. Remember commander, get as much of that read up and understood as possible before then. We've got a lot of work ahead of us and not much time to bring you up to speed."

The commander remarked, "Studying is a strong suit of mine. I probably won't be an expert, but I'll get the gist."

"I guess that's the best I can expect on such short notice."

With that arrangement completed, Anzeel, Las Vegas, and Nashville returned their attention to Roscoe and Arthur. Arthur directed towards Roscoe, "That settles our disagreement then doesn't it?"

"Yes it does," replied Roscoe.

"Good. When the launch is actually to begin, I will contact you and I'll be relying on you to pass word onto the doctor and commander."

"Understood. Please give as advanced notice as you can."

"I'll endeavor to do so."

With all matters settled, that allowed the meeting to be adjourned and the group left to go about their next activities. Arthur and Roscoe both picked up their respective companions from where they monitored the door to the conference hall on their way out. Anzeel was eager to get going. She notified the rest that she was going to seek out and inform Sirius about the proceedings and decision of the meeting. Roscoe dismissed her and once those who remained left the hall, he also dismissed the Unionist duo and they went on their way to Nashville's hull. But on their way, Las Vegas remembered that he had forgotten to ask Anzeel about the Sakura scientist. Just who were they?

XXXXXXXX

They had just gotten aboard and Las Vegas's mind was reeling with what had just happened. Things just keep getting weirder and weirder. Now he has a supercharged wisdom cube affinity—which was something he didn't understand. Given the strangeness of today what is going to happen tomorrow? But luckily for him, he's got Nashville to back him up. There's nothing like a good friend to keep one going.

Speaking of her, she started to speak. "This is gonna sound weird, but you remind me of me right now."

He didn't lie when he said, "I didn't expect to hear that. What makes you say that?"

"I had a powder charge explode inside one of my turrets once and got ordered to port where I got repaired and retrofitted."

"When was this?"

"Mid-1943. I didn't get back to the war until that October though."

Rather than pay attention to where he was walking, Las Vegas's view went towards Nashville. He hummed for just a moment and noted, "So, you're saying that my survival of holding a wisdom cube and waking up to find that my affinity for the cubes—whatever that means—is now boosted to the nth degree is a retrofit?"

"Yeah. You pretty much got it," she answered. But then she felt that she had to say something else about this matter even if she didn't want to. "But I like your ending more than what happened to me." The man's initial reaction to that was finding such a statement as strange. Before he said anything, she continued, "Yes, both of us were casualties. But when the powder charge blew up, another thirty-five of my crew became casualties themselves."

Now he understood perfectly what Nashville was getting at. He was inclined to agree with her. The ending of his injury and "retrofit" was better than hers. He ventured to guess, "You lost some men that day, didn't you?"

Whenever occasions like this came up with shipgirls discussing the crews they once had, Las Vegas tried his very hardest to put himself in their place to try to see with their eyes and feel with their hearts. One may be close to their parent, sibling, or a friend, but there's something to be said about the tight-knit camaraderie that forms between people in the face of adversity. It was a fellowship of shared miseries and victories that produced love no less real than the love one would have for their own family. However, while pondering this very phenomenon as it applies to shipgirls and their old crews, something more immediate evaded his knowledge though it screamed at him. He was Nashville's crew and they were comrades. What about their own fellowship? For now, Las Vegas was so at peace with just the idea of camaraderie and friendship with Nashville that he didn't consider any deeper affections.

Nashville did however. She loved all of her crew that had ever served aboard her. They lived, worked, and fought aboard her and she tried her very hardest to protect them. This came with mixed success as painful memories and sad dreams are wont to remind her. "Yeah," she recalled with shoulders sagging and a saddened expression on her face.

This was another thing that Las Vegas had observed among shipgirls. It is expected that people will die in war. But to shipgirls, losing crew was something that was deeply personal as if their loss reflected upon the girl's inadequacy or incapability and was entirely their fault.

But before he said or did anything, Nashville continued, "But we can't change the past. I lost some of them. But I didn't lose you."

Hearing Nashville say that made him oddly emotional. He understood how significant it is to be held in the same regard as old crewmembers in the eyes of a shipgirl. "I'm glad to be here, Nash. Here with you."

They had been making their way towards their quarters so that Las Vegas could dump the wisdom cube into his safe alongside Mordred's where it could be protected. They had just went inside her actual hull instead of walking along her outside deck, so now firmly out of sight of any who might be watching, Nashville had no qualms about what she was about to do. She took a quick step forward and rotated towards her commander who had been beside and a little behind her as they were walking. He stopped with this motion of hers and he knew what she wanted. One arm was full but with his one free arm, he accepted Nashville's hug as she came to him.

It was a bit awkward with a binder and a wisdom cube keeping her from really getting close to him, but she made it work regardless. She said sincerely, "It makes me so happy to hear you say that. I'm glad that you're here too." Then her sincerity suddenly got a teasing edge to it, "But you have a big plus that none of my former crew got. Wanna know what it is?"

Sensing the subtle shift of the woman's tone, he decided to play along for some reason. "Oh? What plus is that?"

"Your ship gets to speak to you and give you hugs. And don't act like you don't enjoy working with a pretty woman."

He didn't take the bait to her teasing. He felt like he had gotten pretty good at seeing when she was trying to get to him. But instead of taking the bait, he decided to do a bit of a role-reversal on her. "My ship?" he asked.

Nashville hadn't noticed her wording with her last statement and now that her commander had brought it to her attention, a few things happened. Any amount of embarrassment she had hoped to inflict on him was reflected onto her instantly and heat rushed to her cheeks. Additionally, her heart soared at hearing the man she loved say that she was his, even if he said so questioningly. But there was one more thing. A feeling she had gotten from her commander during the briefing before the battle with Mordred returned and this time, she was able to guess what it was. With the return of that "weird excited" feeling, she felt heat down there and she became hyperaware that her physical emptiness filled her with primal desire. Internally, she screamed to try and get herself under control. She had to keep it in her pants. It was way, way, way too early with her commander to even consider something that intimate. Right now, she wished that so many of her sailors hadn't been so eager to chat about and brag to each other concerning their "activities" with women while on land because she had heard and remembered all of it. Ugh. Why couldn't have they chatted about something much more useful to her than sex? Like how to deal with the emotional rollercoaster of loving someone who is so close to but doesn't quite reciprocate one's feelings?

As casually as she could, Nashville tried to reply to her commander's question, "You are the captain after all. I guess that makes me your ship."

Given how driven Nashville was to present a casual tone instead of something more chipper, Las Vegas had a sneaking suspicion that his tease had been successful. He remained blissfully unaware of how deeply his words had penetrated her. Instead of pressing his advantage further, he called it quits with attempts at teasing. Instead, he offered his thoughts on the matter, "Saying it like that makes it sound like you and I aren't equal in this. I think of us like partners or companions in this. For the most part, you've really deferred to any amount of authority I have. You are at liberty to make decisions too."

"Even when I get overly excited for something?"

Las Vegas cringed and slowly confessed, "I won't lie, your judgment has had moments of not being so great. But somehow, things have always worked out. I don't want you to always be waiting for any orders I might have. Seize the initiative. Just please tell me when you're about to do something. I might agree or I might object, and if I do object I promise to explain why I do. Feel free to do the same with any decision I make."

Now that was ironic. He straight up told her to seize the initiative, but here she was doing anything except tell him that she loves him. "Sorry Las Vegas," she thought. That was one order that she could not obey exactly. But why not? What was stopping her from confessing her love right here and now and then taking him for herself? She couldn't figure it out beyond the time not feeling right, even though that made no sense whatsoever. While she had been thinking that, she instead answered, "Thanks, Las Vegas. I'm lucky to have you for a captain."

It seemed as natural a time as any for the hug to finally end, so Nashville slackened her grip and her commander let her go. She said, "I know you want to drop the cube off in your safe, but once we're done with that, can we read the orders we got in the same place we read Shinano's letter last night? I liked doing stuff right there."

The request was not unreasonable, so he replied, "Sure, we can do that. But first things first. The cube."

"Right. Let's get that taken care of."

So, they did. Not much longer passed and Las Vegas was able to deposit his wisdom cube into his safe and lock it. At the same time he did that, Nashville was standing at the open door to his quarters watching him. In this time, she tried and failed to lock away her arousal. Try as she might, a glance or two at his bed was all it to to send her imagination running wild.

He rejoined her in the passageway between their respective cabins and he shut the hatch to his own. Same as the day before, Nashville leaned up against the bulkhead between the two cabins and began to slide down so that she could sit. But this time, her commander was right beside her the whole time and he slid down beside her. He retrieved the sealed orders and commented, "It's strange. We saw a few of these back in SID. Never expected that one of these would be meant for me."

"I'm a little nervous," Nashville admitted.

"Same. But we might as well get into it."

"Yeah, let's get on with it."

No more small talk could delay them, so using Vorpal, Las Vegas sliced open the envelope and retracted the piece of paper. Following a brief greeting from Eriko Hara herself, the first part of the orders were largely what the duo had been expecting. "The Iron Blood has permitted that a fleet be assigned under you… Don't get them killed… This is completely unprecedented so don't screw this up…" It was really just what Roscoe had told the duo earlier that day when the orders were being passed over. Then the orders did say something new. Immediately following the completion of this operation, the Unionist duo are to accompany the Iron Blood girls under Las Vegas's command back to Wilhelmshaven for the next part of Operation Rumor Mill. What the duo were really interested in was the list of who would be under Las Vegas's command. Immediately following the explanation of the orders and campaign that was almost tic for tat identical to what Roscoe had told everyone earlier was the list.

Las Vegas read them aloud. "Scharnhorst, Graf Zeppelin, Admiral Graf Spee, Mainz, Leipzig, Z16, and U-47." Directly beside the vertically oriented list of shipgirls was another list of what kind of vessel they were. He paused immediately after reading that list and he looked towards Nashville to ask, "Do these names mean anyth-"

Nashville suddenly snickered loudly and that derailed her commander's question. Her voice took on humorous amusement and she said, "Oh my god, that is so funny. Look right here." She pointed to a line below the list of Iron Blood shipgirls and continued, "Here's something that Hara herself said. 'Due to the nature of your anonymity making introductions difficult, I've taken up on the fact that Roscoe tells me you look like a cowboy these days, so I told these women to stand watch at the provided coordinates for a Unionist Sea Cowboy.'"

Despite the fact that he was in uniform, Las Vegas was wearing the decidedly non-uniform accessories of the gloves and bandanna that Queen Elizabeth had given him. Even though the bandanna was tied around his neck, it was largely tucked into his collar so that it wasn't painfully obvious that he wasn't in regulation uniform. Nevertheless, a ring of red poked above his collar and that's what Nashville hooked her finger into and tugged lightly. She remarked, "It's 'cause of this. Maybe you should have it untucked when we meet the Iron Blood just so that they have no confusion."

The man was surprisingly okay with having his clothes being tugged on slightly be Nashville. There was a playful edge to her voice that allowed him to let any of his normal qualms for such a thing go. He replied, "It is kinda funny though." He looked and saw coordinates for where they were supposed to meet up with the Iron Blood fleet. He got back to his original question that he now shared with Nashville, "So as I was saying though, do any of those names mean anything to you?"

"Right after I had been commissioned in 1938 we got some intelligence reports about what prospective enemies of the Union had in their navies. I recognize Scharnhorst, Graf Zeppelin, Admiral Graf Spee, and Leipzig. Because of how non-distinct they name their destroyers and u-boats, I'm not surprised that I don't recognize Z16 or U-47. It's Mainz that I'm not sure about. I've never heard of her."

"Something tells me that Queen Elizabeth will be all too eager to tell us who Mainz is when we share this list later today."

"Yeah. The Royals and the Iris will be a lot more knowledgeable about this region than either of us will be."

He nodded to his friend and then looking back towards the paper he said, "But we should get on with it and see what business is for our eyes only."

Nashville scooted just a bit closer. But that little bit was all it took for their shoulders and hips to touch each other. For some reason, he didn't scoot away to get some distance from her. He was comfortable enough with her to let her do stuff like this.

She remarked, "I think it's technically supposed to be for your eyes only. But I'm glad to be included."

He replied, "Well, I don't want to prove all those people right who say that I'm just talk. If I say I'm going to include you, then I better."

"You're so sweet," she thanked with a grin. But then her expression grew more serious and she said, "But we should get going with this."

"Right," concurred her commander. The duo looked back towards the page and he began to read aloud from what Hara had ordered. It read:

"What follows is for the eyes only of Commander:

There are two things that you must see to Commander. The first has to do with U-47. Several months ago, she gave a singular report to the Kriegsmarine of something massive that moves under the water of the North Sea. She was adamant that it was too big to be anything manmade or even a whale. None of her fellow u-boats have been able to corroborate her story and she's only had this sonar contact once. I've seen to it that this account has been written off as a malfunction. But in her account, this thing is so large that her sonar can't even detect the whole thing. It is my belief that this is the Siren superweapon that is plaguing the North Sea. The first step of your hunt will be to connect with U-47 and get her account from her own mouth. Furthermore, the Iron Blood have a habit of keeping their u-boats out to sea as much as they can, so they are notoriously difficult to get a hold of. To prevent the Iron Blood from sending her directly out to sea the moment following your arrival at Wilhelmshaven, you are being temporarily assigned as U-47's captain in addition to Nashville's. U-47 will be as much your companion as Nashville is while you are in Iron Land working alongside the Kriegsmarine. Take good care of her.

The second thing that you must see to is briefing the president of the Eagle Union concerning the threat posed by the Heralds of the Deep. The Heads of Government and Heads of State in the Azur Lane Alliance and the Crimson Axis have sufficient security clearance so that they can be made aware of this threat. The international response to the London Incident has sent many nations reeling with anxiety and while Roscoe and I would have preferred to keep things completely silent from them, many extremely powerful people are asking us questions and are demanding answers. The incident has also made it so that a number of high ranking people in military and intelligence around the world are now having their competence called into question. These unfortunately include both Roscoe and myself. To avert any growing accusations against him, Roscoe will be remaining in the United Kingdom or at least in Europe for the foreseeable future. This leaves him unavailable to discuss this threat with the Eagle Union's president. Please forgive us for thrusting this duty upon you. In the face of the dilemma of maintaining the world status quo or giving you the very best chance of success, we are forcing you to repeat the very same mistake that I feel doomed Operation Argonautica by making too many people aware of your activities. Be extremely careful with who you speak to and who you can trust.

I intend to be making an inspection tour of Iron Land, the Iron Blood's homeland, at about the same time as your arrival to Wilhelmshaven. Contact me when you arrive. We have much to discuss. Until then, I pray for your continual safety and success."

Silence permeated the air between the duo for a time. Both people reread the paragraphs to themselves once again and Nashville offered her comments with a simple but heartfelt, "Holy shit."

"Yeah…" her commander drawled out slowly and uncertainly. "This sure is a curveball that I was not expecting."

"Okay, the part with U-47 isn't that surprising. They had to send us away from the North Sea which is where we were going next for some reason. At least we don't have to be dealing with another superweapon on the Union's East Coast. I thought that I was nervous to meet the Iron Blood shipgirls, but I'm wrong. I'm actually nervous to meet the President." There was also something huge that Nashville didn't say to her commander. This U-47 girl had better not get the hots for her commander. The light cruiser didn't know how she'd be able to deal with something like that, especially when she has to share him due to orders, which is something that she is absolutely not looking forward to.

He didn't immediately respond of that, instead leaning his head back against the bulkhead in thought. He ended up voicing his thinking aloud, "I don't like that we're being forced to repeat the same mistake of Operation Argonautica. We're supposed to be a secret. Although… If the world were hanging in the balance and I could only choose one ally, then the President of the Eagle Union wouldn't be a bad choice."

Nashville shrugged and she conceded, "I guess. I'm also a bit concerned that Roscoe and Hara need to share info with different governments. And now that I think about it, how can Hara share anything with anyone? She hasn't been told much."

"That's a good point. I can only speculate but I bet she's in some hot water right now to answer questions she doesn't know the answers to. She might be waiting for us to arrive in Wilhelmshaven or if her political situation gets too dire for her, she'll have to organize a meeting with Roscoe even if we're not present. I just hope that neither Roscoe nor Hara are replaced as part of the political fallout of all this."

Nashville sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and opined, "Yeah. That would be bad. Like, really bad."

Automatically, Las Vegas then began to try and search for silver linings to this situation. They were returning to the Eagle Union if only temporarily. A sliver of home, even if he actually lived in the opposite corner of the country, was always appreciated and he even knew New York City a bit from his time at grad school in the nearby Princeton University in New Jersey. He might even be able to show Nashville some of the sights. That would be fun. But then an even bigger upside came to Las Vegas's mind and he was suddenly completely fine with the whole arrangement. He could talk to the President of the Union about allowing shipgirls to walk free after the war was over. Now that was a cause he was willing to risk his life for by leaving secrecy behind and talking with the president. Hopefully President Mason LeBlanc would be willing to hear him out about that. And in addition, hopefully the Eagle Union's systems of checks and balances between the sections of government wouldn't prevent the president from helping.

He tried to convey some optimism to his companion by saying, "Don't worry Nash. I don't know how exactly, but things have gone right for us so far. I have a pretty good feeling about this one.

"That's a pretty sudden about face," she pointed out. "What's got you feeling so gung ho all of the sudden?"

He had originally wanted to keep his desire to talk to the president about helping shipgirls a secret from Nashville at least until after speaking with President LeBlanc. But now that Nashville had directly asked what was up, he felt somewhat compelled to answer. So, he did. "I want to talk to President LeBlanc about allowing shipgirls to join civilian life once the war is over. I had originally been hoping to keep this topic among the navy only, but if I have the opportunity to take it to the top of the government, then why not?"

The light cruiser was rendered speechless and her mouth hung open in amazed stupor for a few seconds. It didn't take long for tears to well up in her eyes. It was easy to do so given the duo's close proximity to one another, but Nashville's arm that had been resting against his went around his back to rest on his opposite shoulder. She also found herself resting her head right onto his shoulder. She gave him a light squeeze in this sideways hug. She finally spoke. In a soft voice, she expressed, "Thank you." She took another breath and continued, "I don't think I can ever repay you."

"No need," he dismissed in an equally soft voice. "It's on the house. Let's just hope that the president is willing to listen and do what's right."

"How long have you been planning on helping shipgirls like this?" she probed.

"I'm sorry. I should have been planning on it since day one. But it started that day in London when you woke up hungover and we were talking in the galley. You said you didn't have anything to look forward to, so I decided that I had to do something about that. I had thought that you couldn't be alone in that, so I might as well help all shipgirls if I can. But then when I was talking with Illustrious that night, I confirmed that you aren't alone in being scared of what the future might hold."

"So, you made a decision."

"That I did. And this one feels right to me."

"Earlier Doctor Anzeel said that you must have a hell of a will to work with. I could have told her that. I've seen you in action. I feel so much better now. If there's anyone on Earth who might just pull this off, my money is on you."

"Thanks, Nash. I won't fail you."

"Even if it doesn't work out, I know you well enough to know that you'll give it your all when you've made up your mind."

He didn't reply to that. He was of the mind that he had to do something to reciprocate her embrace. The trouble was that he couldn't hug her back on account her her head resting on his shoulder. He briefly considered patting her knee or something like that. Then he thought better and ended up just giving her hand that rested on his other shoulder a few pats as they sat there in silence for a minute or two. Eventually, he sighed out, "Well, I guess that's the state of things. We'll just have to see what happens."

"Yeah. I guess so," agreed Nashville as she finally straightened up and took her arm back from around her commander. She wiped what was left of her tears from her eyes and then she added on, "Anyway, you'd best get going on reading that binder that Doctor Anzeel got ya earlier." As she was saying this, Nashville began to stand up from where she had been sitting directly beside her commander. She hadn't considered a big detail though, and this detail had something to do with the fact that her standing up with her commander sitting on the ground brought her rear end level with the man's eyes.

The first thought that occurred to Las Vegas as his eyes feasted upon the posterior of his friend and companion was not that of arousal, embarrassment, nor even amazement. He immediately considered the Dunning-Kruger effect. The Dunning-Kruger effect, so named for the two men who first identified the phenomenon, has to deal with the disconnect that people with low competence in any given field often have by believing their abilities are greater than they actually are. Such was the case with the man from Las Vegas in this bizarre situation. From the very first moment that he had seen Nashville, he knew that she was beautiful. Truly a knock-out. A ten-out-out-ten if there ever was one. Nashville's dress never did leave much to the imagination, what with the ways that her large bosom was featured prominently and trim waist was hugged tightly by the fabric of her attire. But rather than have equally tight fabric accentuating her hips, she left them largely uncovered so the curves of her hips flared outward like an hourglass for all to see. The massive slits up both sides of her skirt highlighted and showed off her overpoweringly feminine figure. This forced the skirt itself to have a function more like that of a loin cloth. He had always seen that the widest point of her hips was ostensibly greater than the width of her shoulders. He had always seen the edges of her panties as they curved around her. He had always seen the sides of her backside. He thought he knew what he was dealing with.

But he was wrong.

Staring him in the face was what had to be the most glorious sight he had ever beheld. In the process of standing up, the cloth that normally preserved any amount of modesty Nashville had rode upwards over her rear and he saw all of it. Both halves of her ass were as substantial in size as they were nearly perfectly spherical and flawlessly symmetrical. Her derriere was completely free of blemishes, had no cellulite whatsoever, and had smooth transitions from the bottom of her back and down to the tops of her thighs. The two globes—for no other word would properly capture their size or shape—seemed to be barely contained by the simple black panties that conformed skintight around both spheres. Looking at the transition into her thighs, he was able to learn that Nashville did indeed have a thigh gap through which both her panties and daylight streamed. But immediately before where her skirt would normally conceal, her thigh gap closed into a few inches of luscious tan flesh that ever so slightly mushroomed around the tops of her dark gray thigh highs.

He would only have a moment to appreciate or even react to this sight when Nashville herself would realize what it was she just did. She spun around quickly with her face burning as brightly as the sun. She saw the blush on her commander's face as well and had her worst fears confirmed. She had just flashed her ass right in her commander's face. She squeaked out her apology and as quickly as she could without running, she fled into her quarters while giving the most bare bones of farewells. The hatch to her cabin closed and she leaned against it, again sliding down until she was sitting on her deck. She would wallow in her embarrassment for quite some time.

Las Vegas himself finally managed to snap out of his stupor right as Nashville was fleeing into her cabin. He tried to stand and maybe say something to her, but words refused to leave his throat. The hatch closed and he was alone in the passageway. He slid back down into a seated position and finally, the arousal hit him. He quietly scolded himself with his eyes closed, "Keep it together man. She's your friend, not a sex toy." He finally got up, flexing his thigh the entire time to try and stem the flow of blood to a forming erection. He couldn't say that there was a deeper meaning to anything he may have just learned, but he did learn something about his opinion of Nashville. He could no longer fool himself. Nashville's was the greatest ass he had ever seen, even when compared to those he'd seen himself or when compared to anything he'd seen on a screen.

Shipgirls. They were something else. Superhuman in every way including beauty. Warrior goddesses. Flesh-and-blood Valkyrie or Amazons like from the legends of old. But amid all these thoughts storming in Las Vegas's mind, one thing was for sure, they'd completely wrecked his chances of finding a normal woman attractive ever again.

Then again, maybe there was something deeper to be learned from this. What else was he wrong about? He couldn't think of anything, so he got moving for his own cabin to put his orders in his safe and retrieve Doctor Anzeel's binder. He had some studying to do.

XXXXXXXX

Sometimes a walk really was all that one needed in order to clear their mind. Such was the case with Las Vegas as he retrieved Doctor Anzeel's binder from his cabin and then made his way towards the Officer's Mess Hall. The tables there would be more than sufficient for a good study session. Just like old times, he spread out the material to be studied a little to his left and he opened a blank college-ruled school notebook a little to his right to take any notes he might need. He was weird in that he needed to write stuff down in order to learn them properly. It made receiving instruction a bit slower for him, but he felt that it made understanding faster in the long run. So, he got going. Page after page of Doctor Anzeel's binder was passed through and meticulously studied as the mathematician immersed himself in every detail of it. He wrote notes as he went which created a web of information through which misunderstanding or ignorance would be hard pressed to pass through. Hours ticked by and he was making some pretty good progress. He'd learned and mostly understood a lot. But eventually, that came to an end when an alarm that he had set at the beginning of his study session went off. It was 1730. He should get going with preparing dinner because he was pretty sure it was his turn.

Still in her cabin, Nashville had largely fought off the initial embarrassment at showing her derriere to her commander. When the embarrassment had waned, her earlier arousal had returned with a vengeance and in the privacy of her cabin, she tended to her own needs with her beloved commander always in her mind. She had long felt him move for the Officer's Mess to presumably study by the time she had finished up with herself. She went to her personal head to clean herself up and she threw her panties into a laundry bin for her to clean later.

As a perk of being in the Admiral's cabin, she had a large enough mirror that she could easily inspect her whole body above her thighs just by stepping back from the sink a bit. So, she did exactly that and looked at herself in the mirror. She turned around and bent forwards a bit to stick out her stern. She then craned her neck back towards the mirror and lifted up her skirt to allow herself the ability to inspect her bare posterior. Nashville was aware of how she was hot in a lot of people's opinions. She probably was in her commander's book too, but she wasn't sure what any of his preferences were. He definitely wasn't gay though. Her teasing has taught her that much. Luckily for her, she wasn't lacking in assets that would be considered attractive in many people's opinions, so she felt well prepared for whatever Las Vegas's preferences may be. Regardless, she reminded herself why her stern was her favorite part about her body. "That is one good-ass ass," she congratulated herself. Then with a giggle, she pondered aloud, "I wonder if I could get Las Vegas to say as much." She only had to try and imagine such a thing for a second before failing. "Nah. He'd never commit to saying something like that. At least, not without…" She allowed her inspection to conclude and standing back up straight, she dramatically took her head in both hands and went, "Aaauugh! Dammit Las Vegas! I want to be your ship! Nobody else's! If I could just get you to realize that, then we can skip the mind games and get straight to the good stuff!" She sighed deeply and turned back around to look at her hair in the mirror. She'd messed it up a bit with what she just did by holding her head in her hands. She retrieved a hairbrush and was able to restyle it without any fuss. She started talking to herself again. "No. I gotta be patient. He's smart, so he'll figure it out eventually." Then she paused. "But fuck me. I hope Cheshire doesn't fuck everything up that I've got going with him so far. I still gotta talk to her about all that. Maybe at some point over the next week while he's working with Anzeel? Yeah. That looks like the best bet even though I hate leaving her with Las Vegas alone." She paused for a moment and considered the future. She confessed to her reflection, "And I sure hope that U-47 doesn't fuck everything up either. Ugh. Will this ever end?"

Suddenly, Nashville felt her commander stand up from where he was in the Officer's Mess. "What's he doing?" she asked aloud. He left the mess hall and marched right down to the galley and she understood. She exited out of her head and into her cabin proper. The time was 1730. He was getting going with making dinner. Instantly, she decided that she had to cook it. He had to keep studying and she also had to say sorry somehow for having flashed him. She wasn't in such a hurry that she forgot something important. She remembered to put on fresh panties on her way out and she rushed for the galley.

She arrived at the galley in short order and just like the day in London when she had arisen with a hangover, the hatch was open. But in a twist of cosmic humor, also like that day, she was coming here to greet her commander after having done something embarrassing. The light cruiser debated if she should not mention what had happened. No. She should say that she's sorry for having done what she did even if it was an accident. Again, in the same way as last time, when she entered, she spotted her commander easily. But this time, he noticed her entry and briefly stopped what he was doing to greet her.

Attempting to sound as casual as he possibly could, her commander offered her a simple, "Hey."

Try as she might, she wasn't as good as her commander in sounding casual when she offered her own, "Hey," while approaching him. Neither was her poker face quite as good because the ghost of a suppressed grimace showed enough for Las Vegas to notice it. She got close to him and he again stopped what he was doing to turn his attention to her. He could tell that she wanted to talk, so he'd let her, just like he always has. Even though she had them planned out on her way to the galley, the words were thick like sludge that she struggled to get dislodged from her throat. She wrestled out, "I'm uh… I'm sorry… for what happened a bit ago. I really didn't mean to do it."

A significant part of the man had hoped that Nashville wouldn't talk about that. But nevertheless, she had and that forced him to respond. He dismissed it quickly by saying, "No problem. It's all good."

He had said that a bit too fast and a bit too dismissively to satisfy the woman so she followed her gut instinct to push this topic a bit further than she had originally planned to. Rather than just hug him, she had an idea that she decided to go through with. She requested of him, "Could you bend forward just a bit please?"

Confusion dominated Las Vegas's expression for a few seconds. He was trying to figure out what she was up to, but he couldn't think of anything. He trusted her regardless and not much time passed before he did as he was asked and leaned forward slightly. His face happened to now be level with the light cruiser's and that's when she went ahead with her idea. She reached out with both of her arms to wrap around his shoulders and neck for a hug that was different than her usual one. Normally, both of her arms would go under his and around his torso because she was a shorter than him. Strangely, this hug felt more intimate that usual. Because he had to lean forward to meet her in this manner, less of her body was against his than usual, but more of her head and neck was the opposite case. Nevertheless, he returned the gesture and reached around her just under her armpits which had the unintended side effect of bringing her just a bit closer to him. She finally began to speak. "Do you remember when we were with Queen Elizabeth and her court that time you got knighted? Illustrious said that it was hard to look like she does around their former commander. The rest of the Royals there agreed with her and I said that Smithers reminded me too much of my last captain."

With the help of Nashville's words, he recalled the moment. He said as much with, "Yeah, I remember that."

That was what Nashville had been hoping to hear so she proceeded with her thoughts. "It's true. It can be hard to look like how I do. Maybe you've noticed it or maybe not, but people have been looking at me a bit too hard for my liking everywhere we go that isn't in a shipgirl port. Thank you for not doing that. I feel comfortable being around you. I'm a little scared that what I did in the passageway might have damaged that."

His initial reaction was to be repulsed and he found himself grow defensive of her. Despite keeping his head on a swivel wherever he goes because that's just what he does, he had never noticed anyone checking Nashville out. He felt so horrible for having not noticed. He confessed, "I wish I could make those people stop. It's not right for that to happen to you or to anybody."

"You being with me helps keep things from getting too bad. You can probably tell, but my MP3 player or the color of my cabin isn't standard issue. I had to sneak out to get that. Sneaking out alone was… Well it was an experience, let's leave it at that."

Now that just made him sad that Nashville had to experience that. He said, "All the time that I've known you, I've never wanted to turn our working relationship awkward. And making you uncomfortable is wrong for me to do, so I won't do it. Or at least, I sure try to not do it. You have to be the judge for how successful I am at that. So, I'll overlook what happened in the passageway just now. I won't hold it against you. You're being cool about this and so will I. It's only fair. But going forward, I'd to stand up first whenever we do something like that again."

"To keep something as embarrassing as that from happening again? Yeah, you'll be getting up first."

"Awesome. So, problem solved. Right?"

"Yeah. I'm glad it is," she concluded, but then she released her commander and immediately switched gears. "Now, get outta my galley. I'm doing the cooking right now."

"But I already started making something," he contradicted.

"I don't care," she immediately dismissed with a thin smile betraying her faux seriousness. "You got studying to do and there will be a quiz when I get out there with dinner."

He chuckled a bit at that and playing along, he said, "Oh shoot. I just remembered that I gotta study for a quiz. I guess I have no choice but to leave things to you."

She observed, "Yeah, I guess you don't."

He started to make his way for the galley exit and he voiced, "Thanks Nash. See ya in a bit."

"Thanks yourself," she concluded now with her smile completely supplanting any attempt at being serious.

It would be approximately another half-hour before Nashville came out of her galley with some food that she threw together. There hadn't been time to get anything fancy made, but at least it was something hot. As she came into the officer's mess with the two plates of food, the clacking of her high-heeled shoes warned her commander of her arrival. He looked up from where he had been sitting and he smiled her. That smile was something she'd fight for. She couldn't help but smile back.

Seeing as how he had occupied the table that they normally ate at, Nashville set down the plates at an adjacent table just as he was writing one last thing in his notebook. "Study time's over," she playfully notified him. "It's quiz time. I hope you're ready, Mister Smarty-pants."

He finally stood up from his seat and relocated to the spot where Nashville had placed one of the plates down. As he was sitting down, he replied cockily, "Bring it on. I haven't failed a quiz in over a decade. My skills at cramming are simply too great."

Rather than humor her commander's statement by diving into her first question she picked up her fork and took her first bite. He waited for her second bite before deciding to eat as well. But right as he got his first bite into his mouth, she asked, "What are the basics of launching a shipgirl?"

Las Vegas had been right in the middle of chewing and was thusly unable to answer. He did shoot her a mildly peeved look because he knew that she just did that on purpose. She acted like she did nothing wrong, but allowed him to finish regardless. He answered, "The first step is finding yourself a launch facility. It will have three main parts. There is a launch dock where a shipgirl's hull is formed and launched hence the name, a radiation shielded room where the shipgirl's body is formed, and finally, there is a control center where all the whole process is controlled and initiated. The process actually starts long before a wisdom cube is even introduced to the problem. It has to deal with the refinement of the control room's settings so that a particular shipgirl is constructed. These settings will have to be monitored and continually corrected throughout the process or it might fizzle and drain the wisdom cube, making it useless and leaving the launchers decidedly shipgirl-less. But I digress. Once the initial settings have been set, a wisdom cube is deposited into a special machine that siphons its power first to the launch dock where the hull is formed. It takes however long it needs to. Shorter for smaller vessels and longer for larger vessels. Once the hull is completely formed, the wisdom cube's power is siphoned off the rest of the way and it disappears to form the shipgirl's body inside the shielded room. There's a lot less variance in how long it takes for a shipgirl's body to form because the difference in mass isn't that large between one shipgirl's body versus another's. Once the time has passed and both the hull and the shipgirl are formed, the woman herself remains in a coma. The final step is that a team of people in hazmat suits need to move the still radioactive woman to the bridge of her hull where the woman and the hull synchronize and the shipgirl wakes up. At that moment, all the radiation that the shipgirl previously emitted disappears into the hull itself and she is now safe to be around. At least, as safe as a disoriented superhuman woman can be. Extra caution is advised for shipgirls who were lost in battle when they were conventional warships. Right after that, the brand new shipgirl can be launched into the water. She requires some training about how to do basic human things and she's ready for action less than a week later."

Nashville took a stroll down memory lane. She recalled, "Yeah, waking up right before being launched was like what I thought a bad case of seasickness would feel like. I also remember being really confused. Of course, I wasn't helped by the fact that I was in a hospital gown with fully suited men gathered around me. I wouldn't call it a fun memory, that's for sure. But at the same time, I ended my last life in the relative peace of a scrap yard. I can only imagine how bad it must be for the girls who got sunk in battle in their last lives."

Intrigue showed on his face and in his tone when Las Vegas remarked, "I'm surprised that you remember your very first moments as a shipgirl. My earliest memory only goes back to when I was five or six sitting with my dad in a truck he was driving at the time. And even then, that memory of mine is really hazy."

"Not what I expected," said Nashville. "I had kind of figured that normal humans remembered being born."

"I can't site any documented cases, but I'm sure someone out there remembers being born for some medical reason that's beyond me. But most people won't."

"Alright then. Good answer with the first quiz question," congratulated the light cruiser. But then she warned him, "But you got two more questions to go. So, let's get to those." Her commander nodded his understanding and she continued, "Why do shipgirls look the way we do?"

"Doctor Anzeel only hypothesizes as to why that may be. But she believes that it's influenced by wisdom cubes responding to the collective will of humanity and to the wills of those taking part in the launch. Because ships have been referred to as feminine among humans for an extremely long time, she believes that's why shipgirls are women. I had never once expected to see it in an academic article, but Anzeel confesses that her homosexuality may have influenced the appearance of the first shipgirls and that as people came to expect that of shipgirls, more and more of them came out looking the way they do."

"Anzeel's gay?" asked Nashville.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice that she wasn't straight at least. She's pretty clearly into women."

"Huh," thought Nashville aloud. "I guess it makes sense." She then narrowed her eyes and playfully ordered, "You'd better give Sirius a sister that's just as pretty as she is. Something tells me you got a big say in that with what we've learned earlier about your wisdom cube affinity."

"Well, okay then. I never expected that I'd be hearing an order quite like that."

Nashville reinforced her earlier statement with, "But an order it still is. Anyway, time for the last question." She watched as her commander straightened up slightly. Some fear grew inside her and she sincerely inquired, "Do shipgirls have souls?"

In just an instant, Nashville watched her commander's facial expression grow concerned. He instantly replied, "Of course you have a soul Nash. You have as much soul as I do." His expression tamed and turned into a smile that puzzled the light cruiser. "Actually. It's funny you should ask that. An argument could be made that you have a soul but I don't. There's no way that we have to quantifiably prove that a soul exists. We have to turn to stuff like religion or philosophy for those answers. And even then, those depend on faith. But when it comes to shipgirls, Anzeel has coined a term called, "Hull Data." Hull data is what allows a wisdom cube to form one shipgirl versus another. It's the thing that all the settings and monitoring of the control room are trying to derive. But it isn't an automatic process. It's apparently a fickle thing and what's more, it's a chaotic system. It's influenced by the ever shifting will of humanity and of those doing the launch. Launching a shipgirl is more like shepherding a massive herd of sheep than it is an exact science. So, in my opinion, shipgirls have souls in the form of that hull data."

Nashville nodded deeply while thinking. She admitted, "It's comforting to know that I have a soul. It was one of those things that was nagging me at the back of my mind, you know?"

"I can imagine," her commander ventured. He then felt the need to go down his own memory lane and say more to his friend on the matter. "So, yes, you have a soul in the strict mathematical sense. But I can also give proof that you have one in a more metaphysical sense. I remember how you were the day that we met Honolulu. Seeing you and her meet is proof of your soul to me at least. You can think. You can feel. 'That's proof enough,' I say."

She quietly agreed, "It's proof to me too. I'm glad to hear that you think the same way."

Finally, they both got to eating and finished their meal in silence. There was just nothing that came to mind for them to say. But when they stood to go and clean up after themselves, Nashville said, "Okay. So, you've passed your quiz. But I do have a bonus question."

"Let's hear it," her commander invited.

"Do you have any ideas how Anzeel is going to have you help her develop those 'Quick Finishers' she talked about?"

She watched her commander grin and she suddenly felt much more comfortable about how things might go with Charybdis. He said, "I suspect that Doctor Anzeel is going to want to implement something called a 'Lorenz attractor' into her methodology. This will narrow down the near infinite possibilities of her chaotic system down to something more manageable for the system set in place for launching a shipgirl, thus speeding it up. Someone ironically, she'd be creating predictable chaos. The trouble is that there would be no one size fits all solution. A quick finisher we develop for Charybdis would be for her alone. We might be able to set up a workflow that allows future shipgirls to have their own quick finishers developed quicker, but that has yet to be seen."

Having learned all she wanted to know, Nashville patted her commander on the back and congratulated him. "Well, you did it. Looks like your streak of passed quizzes survives another day."

"Nice," he celebrated with a fist pump. But then he checked the watch on his wrist and voiced, "But we should pick up the pace. It's 1835 hours and we have to meet with the Royals and the Iris in twenty-five minutes."

They did just that and left Nashville's hull with enough time to spare to meet at the conference room at the time that was agreed upon.

XXXXXXXX

Queen Elizabeth was not happy. Or better stated, she was anxious. Was she perturbed that Calico Jack may have known that this was going to happen with the Iron Blood and not warned her? Absolutely. But at the same time, was she massively relieved that their temporary commanding officer was someone she knew? Also yes. The biggest problem in this was something that she felt that neither she nor anyone under her command could hazard much of a guess. The same was the case above her. Part of the way through the afternoon, Commodore Belanger had asked her where Calico Jack's loyalties are. Her answer deeply concerned her. To Grayson Roscoe and to Eriko Hara wasn't so bad. But after them, Calico Jack was loyal to the dictates of his conscience rather than to any nation. This made Calico Jack unpredictable in the most predictable way possible. He would do what he felt was right. But if doing right meant siding with the Kriegsmarine and standing against the Royal Navy in the coming campaign, then she felt he could be relied upon to do that. It could just as easily go the other way and he'll tug on the undoubtedly already short leashes of the Iron Blood shipgirls thus allowing any Royal Navy girls free reign. She just didn't know. She couldn't guess. And that frightened her. There was also the added anxiety that Calico Jack himself rocked the boat by his very presence and was something of a trouble magnet. Somehow, he's won so far but can that be relied upon to continue? She didn't know.

For her part, Richelieu was conflicted with indecision. She had gotten Queen Elizabeth's whole story when it came to her knowledge of the man now also called "Nemo." The cardinal had to respect Nemo's devotion to his sense of right and wrong, which fortunately appeared to be strong, but at the same time, Richelieu feared that the man's judgment might not be as unclouded as one would hope. Heaven knew that she had been plagued by a clouded judgment a time or two in her time. But regardless, she resolved that she would withhold her own judgment of the man she had only just met and permit him a chance to prove himself in her eyes.

Finally, the door to Queen Elizabeth's officer opened up and in entered the Unionist duo with Belfast entering in behind them and closing the door. Even though the original arrangement had been to meet in the conference hall, it was easy to have the head maid intercept the foreigners and direct them to her office instead. Queen Elizabeth had suggested that this ought to be a small meeting. Both Vice Admiral Fabre and Commodore Belanger agreed.

When the Union duo entered, it became immediately apparent to Calico Jack that this meeting was much more limited in scope. He was willing to hazard a guess that the intention was to either keep the information on the down low or to keep any repeats from earlier when nearly the whole conference jumped up to their feet to rush Grayson Roscoe. Inspecting the room just revealed five souls not counting the Unionists. There was Queen Elizabeth, Richelieu, Belfast, Vice Admiral Fabre, and Commodore Belanger. Salutes and greetings were exchanged then Belfast ushered the duo to seats that were gathered around the short table in the middle of Queen Elizabeth's office.

Queen Elizabeth got started immediately by voicing, "Calico Jack, I must confess that I am rather agitated."

"Am I the cause of it?" he ventured to guess.

"Only in part. The Iron Blood are chiefly to blame. And truthfully, the idea that you are at the reins of any Iron Blood shipgirl is a comfort to all of us here rather than have an Iron Blood officer forced into our midst. However, were you aware that the Iron Blood would be participating in the coming campaign?"

"Nothing definitive, but I had a suspicion it would be the case. But I had no idea that I would be leading any of them."

Vice Admiral Fabre sat up in his seat and the creaking of it drew everyone's attention his direction. Gone was the non-serious mannerisms of earlier and in their place had appeared a flag officer. He firmly asked, "Then why did you not share your suspicion when you first had it?"

The commander explained, "At the time that it came to me, it seemed unwise to muddy the waters with what was just speculation when there were more pressing matters. This would be as my fleet and I was arriving into Devonport only two days ago. And in hindsight, it seems that my decision was well made. The supreme commander is better equipped to handle a reaction like what I saw earlier today than I would be."

Now Richelieu asked, "Do you have any ideas as to why the supreme commander would choose theatrics when passing you your orders?"

He answered, "I think he wanted to emphasize to all present that we're being volunteered to be diplomats."

"Soldiers for diplomats," deadpanned Queen Elizabeth. "God help us."

Finally, Commodore Belanger spoke. "Well, Commander, you succeeded in enlisting Hood to be a more willing diplomat alongside yourself. She recounted to me and Queen Elizabeth what it was that you said to her. She has already volunteered to be the Royal Navy flagship for the duration of this campaign."

Internally, the commander smiled. Hood had long proven that she was a woman of substance and steady moral fiber. He knew that she would come through for him here. He asked, "Was her request granted?"

"Yes, it has been," picked up Queen Elizabeth. "Regardless of our distaste for what is to come, we are not so stupid that we can't see the need to tread very carefully in this matter. Hood is a good option given the circumstances. The constitution of the fleet beside her depends on who the Iron Blood are sending. Speaking of which, do you have that list with you?"

"Yes, I do," he answered while standing up from his seat. He approached Queen Elizabeth and handed her his hand-written list that he prepared.

He returned to his seat as she began to read the list aloud. She rattled off, "Scharnhorst, Graf Zeppelin, Admiral Graf Spee, Leipzig, Mainz, Z16, and U-47."

Fat silence hung in the air for a few seconds. Richelieu opined, "That list is not as bad as I had feared."

"I agree," concurred Queen Elizabeth. "The Iron Blood are keeping their larger Priority Research ships back nor are either Bismarck sisters appearing. Nevertheless, Mainz and U-47 concern me."

Still new to his station, it was Belanger who spoke next to ask, "Apart from the obvious fact they are part of the Kriegsmarine, why do Mainz and U-47 concern you?"

Queen Elizabeth rattled off the basics to her commodore. "Scharnhorst and Graf Zeppelin, while possessing strong personalities, are able to be manipulated. Admiral Graf Spee and Leipzig are mild mannered and can be intimidated. Z16 is simple minded and can be misdirected. Mainz is a priority research light cruiser and U-47 is one of the top scoring U-boats of World War II with the notoriety of successfully sneaking into Scapa Flow to sink a battleship and surviving."

Belanger's answer was an easy, "I understand the concern."

The teenage monarch continued, but towards Calico Jack, by saying, "Are you aware of any of these women's histories?"

He admitted, "I avoid looking at any shipgirl's history. It feels like an invasion of privacy. Especially when I can't even share my own name."

That statement succeeded in getting the four shipgirls of the room to grin with endearment. Queen Elizabeth remarked, "Under normal circumstances, this is appreciated. However, now would be the opportune time to disregard such niceties."

"I'll think about it," he answered. It was the best that Queen Elizabeth was going to get.

So, she instead pressed for any more details. "Is there anything else pertinent that you would like to share? I can assure you that in this case, less is not more."

"The meeting point with the these women are to happen at sea at coordinates that were provided to me."

Finally, Nashville spoke up and she added on, "Yeah, and they were told to look for a Unionist Sea Cowboy. We got a good kick outta that one."

The rest of the room shared in the mirth out of how ridiculous those orders were. But it came to Calico Jack to stop that amusement. He said, "But there is one more thing worth sharing. For reasons that are staying with me, I'm being temporarily assigned as U-47's captain in addition to Nashville's. This will stay the case for as long as Nashville and I are working with the Iron Blood."

Surprisingly, Queen Elizabeth and Richelieu looked relieved. Queen Elizabeth explained, "Good. If I were to put only one of those seven women into a tight leash, it would be U-47. She is intelligent, independent, and devoid of fear. U-boats are not to be trifled with. Having you at her helm is a great comfort."

Neither Unionist could think of any response to that. Nevertheless, all the topics that needed to be discussed had been addressed and the group parted ways for the evening. Las Vegas got right back to studying and he stayed up much later than usual. Eventually, Nashville arrived and escorted him back to his cabin and ordered that he go to bed. He still struggled to find sleep. But rather than being stuck in fear for any dreams that might come or the possibility of dreaming with Shinano, he was focusing on those Iron Blood shipgirls that he is to command. He had many more questions, but chief among them was this: "Who is U-47 and what does she know?"

And that's a chapter. I won't deny, I had a lot of fun writing this one. I hope you were able to have fun along with me. This chapter had my first honest attempt at fanservice, so please, give me your thoughts about that in addition to your general thoughts. We've also seen some names be dropped and orders given. I'm extremely excited for what the future holds and as you all can probably see, we're rapidly approaching the story's farewell to the United Kingdom. What a setting. I've enjoyed Devonport and London immensely. And as much as it would be great to move right along to Wilhemshaven and the rest of Continental Europe, there's unfinished business in the Eagle Union. I hope you can stick around for that. I wonder who we will be meeting. Anyway, I see some comments that need responses, so I'd best get onto that.

Hello, Vexatriss. I really appreciate both your support and your concern. For me, I've found that once I get a rhythm going for daily writing, it's fairly easy to maintain. And because I have some time on my hands for now, I'll fill it with writing. I don't know what the future may hold, but I have no intentions of letting this story go untold. Even if uploads slow again to a crawl, Operation Rumor Mill won't be going anywhere but forward.

Hey there, ErnstLindemann. I'm glad that you were able to enjoy the last chapter. I hope this one also holds up. But as you can see in the story, political forces are on the move and that's a consideration as we're going forward into the story. For now, the politics are working in Las Vegas's and Nashville's favor, but that can change at some point. As for what the Iron Blood are going to call Las Vegas, a big hint has already been given this chapter.

It's good to see you again, Cemalidor. Yes, a lot of characters are being introduced quite quickly. I'm looking for an opportunity to give the Iris their own scene and introduce the rest of them. But as for Bismarck? Her introduction to the story is not yet. I've always thought that Hood would be one to be reasonable enough to give the Iron Blood a chance with the proper encouragement despite her history as a ship. Her in-game character is too graceful to be bigoted in my opinion.

What's up, Zander22122? So far so good about getting out of the writing slump. I feel like I'm starting to get the habit of writing daily again. I'm really hoping to be able to keep that going. But we'll see. I too am extremely excited to meet Charybdis. Ever since her introduction to the game, she's been one of my favorite maids or really, favorite Royal Navy girls. You know, now that you mention that, working in a RWBY reference or two through L'Opiniâtre wouldn't be too hard. Fun fact about me. If I wasn't writing a fanfiction about Azur Lane or Ace Combat, it would be a crossover fic between RWBY and Bloodborne.

Hi Legionaire. Thanks for giving the chapter a read and for the kind words. And extra thanks for pointing out the error in Saint Louis's description in the last chapter. I already went ahead and corrected that. I too hope to be seeing these chapters more frequently.

Greetings, Touhoufanatic. As you've probably already read from the chapter, I've given the list of the Iron Blood girls that Las Vegas will command. I was going for a balance between serious, solemn, and not so serious with their group. All-in-all, I think that these seven girls will be a good introduction to the Iron Blood. But as for Charybdis's launch, we'll just have to wait and see what happens.

Happy birthday, EnJewel3! I don't know how you timed your comment so well, but I just so happened to get this chapter done at the right time, so here you go. I hope your birthday has been great. I think I might know what you're referring to with Las Vegas's dialogue in that scene with Cheshire's breakfast. I was trying to make him sound amazed and a little speechless with him tripping over his words. I apologize for the confusion. I'll try to not go so crazy with that in the future. You ask many questions about how things will go south in this story. The answers to these questions are going to stay with me however. You'll have have to keep reading to see how bad things get. Nevertheless, thanks for reading this story of mine. I recognize that reading over 450000 words for a story is quite a commitment and your support is very much appreciated. I hope that I can keep you coming back with future chapters.

Hello, Bell Chou'un. I'm definitely going for a slow burn as you're picking up on. The trick I'm trying to go for is having enough things happen between Las Vegas and Nashville to keep their relationship interesting until the next major development in it, which I Las Vegas realizing his feelings. As for then this may be, I'll keep that to myself, but rest assured that I do have a plan. I hope that I can keep you coming back for more of this story. There's much more to tell.

Anyway, that's all I got for now. Thanks all of 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.