Thorson wasn't sure exactly what time it was. He could have checked his watch, but felt the need to keep his chin rested upon his interlocked fingers. His elbows ached from resting on the cold metal of his desk. That was the only indication he had that a significant amount of time had passed since he'd contemplated shooting Tennessee. He was finding it hard to forget her. It wasn't the things she said or the way she looked. It was the fear he'd seen in her eyes. They were the eyes of someone not ready to die, in spite of her jaded attitude. That worried him. The things he didn't know worried him. He barely noticed the dainty clack of Brooklyn's short heels until she was there in his office.

"I suppose I made quite the impression," he grumbled, raising his eyes and seeing hesitance all over the shipgirl's face. "Is that for me?" He asked, gesturing to the plate Brooklyn carried that sported a sandwich of white bread and some sort of cold cut as well as a couple slices of fruit on the side. He figured the produce had been part of his base's recent dealings with Captain Stevens' convoy.

"Yes sir. Shiranui requested I bring this to you," Brooklyn informed him, her voice remaining professional and reserved.

"She didn't want to come herself? Oh. What did she say exactly?" Thorson requested with a hint of humor in his voice. "It's alright Brooklyn. I'm not in the habit of shooting the messenger."

"I…yes, Commander. She said that she was too busy feeding the other girls and had no time for that idiot…Shikikan? Is that what they call you?"

"Means Commander in their native tongue far as I can tell. No idea how I can understand them at all. Must be some wisdom cube trick. Have you eaten?"

"I have, thank you sir."

"Then can I offer you a seat? I was hoping we could talk," Thorson requested, standing to accept the plate from her and gesturing to the other equally uncomfortable metal chair on the other side of his desk. His backside stung from his long period without movement. Brooklyn complied and sat daintily, crossing one leg over the other. He found it hard to avoid glancing at her exposed hips. "I like the color."

"I'm sorry, sir?" Brooklyn tilted her head at him as he took a seat and a bite of food. She was patient as he chewed.

"I only noticed now that your hair is light blue at the tips. It suits you," he declared absently, not thinking much of it until Brooklyn's tanned face went beet red.

"C-Commander!"

"You're not wearing pants and I can see about half of your underwear, Brooklyn. You're getting bent out of shape over your hair?" Thorson joked, taking another bite of his sandwich. Brooklyn clenched her hands together tightly in her lap.

"It's the first time anyone's said anything about it," she whispered. "If my attire is too distracting I can-"

"Is there a reason you dress that way?" He asked without accusation, opening a drawer to retrieve pen and paper.

"It's how it's always been. I'm comfortable this way."

"Then I don't see an issue with it. I was just confused is all. I'm sure by now you've noticed this isn't your standard Eagle Union base. Laffey divested me of the notion that you shipgirls are normal weapons or soldiers basically from the moment I met her. I'll try to be as accommodating as possible."

"And Tennessee?" Brooklyn suddenly asked, meeting his eyes as her complexion returned to normal.

"There are some things that cannot be tolerated in warfare, Brooklyn."

"Of course, Commander. Now was there something you needed from me?" She asked, unwilling or unable to press the issue of the blonde battleship.

"I suppose not, but I wouldn't mind a chat," Thorson clarified. "The technicals of getting you a ship and rigging can come later once Downes is finished with the dry dock but I'd still like to get to know you a bit better and ask you a couple of things. It's a large base with plenty of underutilized resources. I need to know where you'd fit in best. No offense but I don't exactly see you working construction full time."

Brooklyn tittered at his attempt at a joke, bringing her finger to her lips and giving him what seemed a genuine smile. "I would prefer that, sir. If it's possible, of course."

"Might I ask if you have any particular passions?"

"Reading, sir."

"Anything specific?"

"Before I decided to go with Pennsylvania I was reading a biography of Otto von Bismarck. I returned it to the captain of the Brooklyn."

Thorson remained silent for a moment before deciding that Pennsylvania would have the full story, though he was curious as to Brooklyn's reasons. He reached into another of his desk drawers and pulled out a handful of shards. "I'll leave aside that decision of yours for now. May I change topics?"

"Of course, Commander."

"What do you believe wisdom cubes are?" He asked, laying out the remaining shards that he and Laffey had won on the desk before them. Brooklyn furrowed her brows in thought as she contemplated her answer, allowing Thorson a bit of time to continue with his lunch. Eventually she met his eyes and gave her answer.

"They are the cause of this war." Her reply caused Thorson to stop with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. He gently placed it back on his plate and regarded Brooklyn intently.

"You're no brute warship…are you?"

Brooklyn gave him a wide, genuine smile. "If you don't mind my saying, sir, Pennsylvania and Tennessee have that covered."

"Ha! So they do. But I'm more curious about you right now. Elaborate on that statement, Brooklyn."

"Yes, sir. I don't know much about the cubes, I'm sorry to say. But I do know mine rather well," she said, bringing a hand to her breast. "There is something in it that strives. I do not know to what end, but it does. When I read a particularly enthralling passage it seems to almost…I don't know…sing within me. I do not see many other shipgirls reading much. I presume their cubes demand they pursue other crafts…or perhaps my cube bends to my own desires? I cannot be sure though the end result would seem the same. But if the overall purpose of the cubes is to give life to machines of war it stands to reason that they would be most refined in the fires of combat, no?"

Thorson nodded absently, having scribbled notes throughout Brooklyn's explanation. He took a moment to consider her words more thoroughly, wondering if there were other shipgirls who felt driven to do something other than fight. Perhaps Akashi's cube drives her to innovate and tinker, or even barter? He considered before addressing Brooklyn again. She had begun looking a bit self-conscious in the silence that pervaded his dark office. The diffuse sunlight from the door to the radio room framed her hair nicely though, he had to admit.

"Brooklyn, if you don't mind I think I'd like to lower your priority for reconstruction and rigging," he told her. Her shoulders sagged as a wounded look played across her features.

"May I have an explanation, sir?" She requested quietly.

"Chin up, Brooklyn. Anyone can point a gun and shoot. Have you read Sun Tzu?"

"The Art of War, sir? I have but we are already engaged in one. He wrote primarily from a standpoint of avoiding war in the first place. Perhaps the writings of Marcus Aurelius would be of better use?"

"You're giving me far too much credit, Brooklyn. I am no Roman Emperor."

"That little destroyer would follow you to hell and back, sir. She has been with you the longest from what I can tell. Perhaps the others will feel the same one day?"

"Not you though?" He teased. She seemed conflicted.

"You've told me I'm not to fight."

"Because I need you for something much more important," Thorson told her, causing her to look at him with rigid curiosity, her back suddenly straight and poised. "I need someone to help me manage the affairs of this base. And don't give me that look, Brooklyn. I don't mean someone to count shells or be my secretary. Shiranui has the former covered. As for the latter I doubt any of you shipgirls would enjoy getting prettied up and delivering my papers, so I won't ask. Before you arrived I attempted to strike up a long term partnership with the captain of a Union Merchant Marine convoy. I have no doubt that unless we die in our first battle we will end up interacting with Union brass that don't know anything about me or the program I was assigned to. Based on what I overheard from Tennessee there might be those who consider you and your fellows as traitors. I may need to negotiate with the leaders of the Sakura or Ironblood if I can ever beat them into submission to the point they want to listen. The point is…I'm not a skilled diplomat. I'd like to think I'm good at war…so much as a young man can be. I'm not as good with people and I sure as hell have no idea what to do with shipgirls. That's why I need you."

Brooklyn was beaming at him. "When do I start, sir?"

"Hold your horses there, Brooklyn! But I like your eagerness. First could you take a look at these, tell me what you feel when you touch them?" He motioned to the shards on the table. Brooklyn did as commanded, brushing her fingertips over them.

"I am a cruiser by nature, Commander. While Laffey's tactics are impressive my cube does not reach out for them…if that's what you're asking."

"It's as good an answer as any. Thank you. Is there anything else you wish to discuss before we iron out the details of your new position?" Thorson asked. Brooklyn regarded the ceiling in contemplation.

"When are you going to get a window in here? Or a new desk?"

"When those are the least of this base's concerns," he laughed, knowing that was code for never. Brooklyn seemed disappointed.

"And when a Union admiral visits you here and sees you behind that thing?" She pressed before pointing above their heads. "Or when they see you're using a bulb like that? No shade or anything? You look like you've set up shop in a broom closet, to say nothing of the radio room just outside. The walls look hideous."

"That is your new office, Brooklyn." Thorson smiled as the cruiser looked at him with surprise and a bit of disdain. "I expect you to monitor communications and radar as well as manage the base's diplomatic affairs. Assuming we ever see supply convoys you may trade with them as you see fit for the purposes of getting this building into an acceptable state as the seat of…I guess we'll call it power…on this base. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Brooklyn stood and saluted him. He returned it.

"Are you prepared to receive your orders?"

"My orders, sir?" She asked with confusion, surely thinking they'd just been over that. He nodded as his brow furrowed, his face losing any trace of humor from their discussion of their dingy place of work.

"I agree with your assessment that the cubes are the reason for this war. Specifically I believe the Sirens are the cause. What they hope to achieve is beyond me but I know what I saw at Pearl Harbor."

"Sirens, sir?"

"I'll show you the files another time, Brooklyn. For now, know that it is my opinion that the Union navy is not strong enough to defeat them. Nor would every Union shipgirl be capable of that feat. If we are to have any hope we must unite as many ships as we can under one banner, so to speak. Any entity capable of producing cubes and forcing the great powers of the world into conflict cannot be taken lightly. To that end…I want you to commit treason."

Brooklyn stared at him for a long moment. "You want me to encourage others to defect?" Thorson waved a hand but was nevertheless impressed by her sharp mind.

"I'm still Union and I'm operating under orders from Admiral Hawkins, may he rest in peace. You and the others have not defected, not technically at least. No, I'm asking you to find a way to covertly reach out to the Sakura, Ironblood, and Royal Navy. Doesn't matter how you do it, but the other shipgirls in the world need to know about this place and what we are fighting against. I'm sure it's not just me. I'm sure there's Ironbloods that want to know why they were suddenly thrown into a war with the Royal Navy they were ill equipped to fight."

"But sir, Hood was sunk by Bismarck!"

"And then Bismarck was sunk in turn by King George and the others. The way I hear the story told Ark Royal managed to cripple her with planes from the First World War. Tirpitz remains bottled up in the Baltic. The best they can do is their wolfpacks, deadly as they are. I know for a fact that the Sakura remain divided on attacking the Union. Shiranui is proof of that. She died for that cause."

"Sir?!" That was the first thing that truly seemed to shock Brooklyn.

"There's a reason she can float, Brooklyn. Her story is not mine to share though."

"What else is there, sir?" The cruiser asked, watching as Thorson placed his hands on the desk and hung his head.

"I fear that what happened to the Ironbloods is happening to the shipgirls of the Sakura as we speak." An unnatural cold seemed to fall over them both; the only sound that reached them was the distant cry of a gull from outside. Thorson retrieved the classified Ironblood research folder and passed it across the table to Brooklyn. She opened it and began to read, her dark red eyes growing wide with horror. Eventually she threw it back on the table and placed both hands over her mouth.

"I've never felt lucky to have been born into the Union before…" she whispered. Thorson nodded.

"Union brass would never approve of what I'm suggesting, but if your nation did that to you and someone offered you a way out, one of your own kind offered you something better…would you take it?" He asked seriously. She nodded without hesitation. "That is your task, Brooklyn. I don't think I'm anything special, but I know that as long as I'm in charge there will be no torture or experimentation on shipgirls on this island without express consent, as we did with Cassin and Downes last night. If even one ship from the Crimson Axis joins with us then we will have succeeded in some small way."

"May I protest, sir?"

"You may." Thorson allowed her the time to gather her thoughts as she leafed through the rest of the information he'd given her.

"We are more likely to be destroyed if the other factions learn about this place," she declared. He nodded.

"That is a possibility, to be sure. But this facility used to be run by both the Sakura and the Union. The Empire knows we're here. If we have data from the Ironbloods there's a chance they know of this facility's location as well. Every day we don't gain more firepower is a day wasted. I've thought about this for a while but I've not had the chance to execute on this plan. Then you came along," he finished supportively, walking around the desk to stand before Brooklyn.

"They'll have to shoot me before they get their hands on any of you. You have free will here, Brooklyn. Can you carry out these orders?"

She studied him for a moment, reaching out to run a finger over his Commander's insignia. "Perhaps I was wrong, Commander. You may not need to work on your modesty after all. My cube is urging me to accept your challenge. It's nice, in a way, having a part of you that confirms what you already desire. I will do what I can to bolster your forces, sir. What are my constraints?"

"Do your best to ensure your message will be appreciated only by shipgirls, not sailors or officers to the best of your extent. Your first major opportunity will hopefully present itself in the next week or two if Captain Stevens pays us another visit with his convoy."

"Then I believe I have much to work on, sir. If I may?"

"You are dismissed Brooklyn. Thank you for the lunch."

"It was my pleasure, Commander. Other than learning something quite distasteful about our enemies I must say you're not the worst conversationalist." Thorson laughed deeply at her evaluation of him, not particularly surprised to realize that he did care what Brooklyn thought of him. She was by far the most contemplative shipgirl he'd met. After a final salute the cruiser turned to leave, unabashedly allowing him to appreciate the subtle sway of her hips. At the doorway she paused and turned to him. "May I make a request, sir?"

"You may."

"Cleveland has already taken an interest in demolishing the old Union dormitory and rebuilding it as Akashi is doing with hers. She said something about a colonial motif. In any case, assuming that happens I was hoping you might authorize the addition of a library?"

"A woman after my own heart," Thorson mused, causing Brooklyn's face to light up like a Christmas tree again. "I approve conditionally."

"Sir?"

"As you might have seen there is an educational building of some sort down in the civilian area of the docks. The brick building with the clock tower?"

"Yes, sir. I was unaware of its function."

"I've not been inside yet myself. At some point you're free to take a break from your duties at the radio and investigate. If you find a library or a similar repository of knowledge there I would prefer we refurbish instead of building anew. If not, you'll have your authorization when the Union dorm is reconstructed. I can't stand that building."

Brooklyn gave a delightful laugh at his final proclamation, nodding her head to him in thanks. "Will there be anything else, Commander?"

"No, thank you Brooklyn. Could you please find Indianapolis and send her here? After that you may begin your work."

"Yes, sir." With a final salute Brooklyn headed out, the sound of her shoes against the cement floor growing fainter as Thorson stared after her. He shook his head as he turned back to his desk.

"Why do they all have to be so goddamn pretty?"