A/N: the art accompanying this chapter can be located here: imgur com/a/lBE5i2R. Click when you see (*). You'll have to fix the link yourself, cause FF is silly like that.
"Damnit, just a bit longer!" Kaga cursed to herself as she tried to push her Zeroes above the flight plane of the attacking Ironblood fighters. The bombers had been easily eclipsed in terms of altitude, but they ignored the Sakura planes to target fixed assets. "Akagi, they are coming!"
"I sense them, sister," the brown-haired kitsune replied through gritted teeth, feeling the pain of MG fire piercing the wings, fuel tanks, and cockpits of her aircraft. "These bastards! Can't you Union girls do your jobs?"
"You mean stopping those bombers from turning one of the largest Royal dockyards into scrap metal? Get bent, Akagi," Minneapolis replied for her faction, following a spotlight with her five inch guns and opening up the moment she caught sight of a Stuka within its range. To either side of her, South Dakota and Massachusetts were spitting out hellish barrages of AA fire that made her guns look like peashooters. "Damn, I really need an upgrade."
"Laffey just wanted to drink…" the little destroyer complained sleepily, doing her best to help out her capital ships as the stream of enemy aircraft continued low and fast. "Where is Commander?"
"We need to make do for now, Laffey. Be sure to stay close to me!" Arizona encouraged her escorts. She'd upgraded her own AA complement significantly since Pearl Harbor, but she was still operating an older hull in tight confines. "Kaga, if more of those planes begin to target us we won't last long."
"We're doing the best we can, but our fighters are at a significant disadvantage," the kitsune replied curtly. Akashi was not pleased.
"Then idiot foxes must do better, nyaa! Akashi refuses to die in such icky, cold water!"
"Time in exile has only worsened your abrasive tendencies, cat," Akagi shot back before lashing out at an approaching bomber with a spirit attack. It was effective, but a piecemeal effort that did nothing to blunt the assault.
"Less banter, more killing!" Hiryuu insisted, scrunching up her face in frustration as another Ironblood fighter wing dove at her Zeroes. In a fair fight she would have dodged them easily, but the altitude advantage was still theirs. With great consternation she drew her sword and commanded her aircraft in a sudden reversal. "Fine then, if I can't win neither can you!"
"She's lucky she possesses such great strength, otherwise her proclivity for battle would kill her," Soryuu commented of her sister, Thorson's small group arriving at the dockyards just in time to witness a trio of fireballs light up the skies above Plymouth. Hiryuu had smashed her own aircraft into the enemy. Sheffield's driving could only have been described as spirited, delivering them to the battle with nauseating speed.
"Thank you. Good job dodging those bombs," Thorson said quickly to the Royal maid before taking off at a sprint to rejoin his fleet. "Penny!"
"I've got it, sir. Ark, Soryuu, with me!" the valkyrie shouted, summoning her rigging and tossing the carriers on it one to a side. In a flash they were headed out into deep water where the battleship's hull shimmered into being, adding area to the fleet's AA envelope.
"We appreciate the cover, Pennsylvania-san," Soryuu nodded politely before leaping off to begin commanding her own hull. All around them, flaming wreckage rained down like hellfire as Akagi and Kaga joined Hiryuu in kamikaze runs, tails ablaze with power as they knew they were witnessed by their Shikikan. "The others are clearing us a path, Ark-san. We must not waste it!"
"Agreed," the Royal carrier replied shortly, taking aim with her rifle and sending wing after wing of her robust P-40's skyward. With five carriers fully operational and shielded from the enemy by ship and ground based AA fire, the tide of battle seemed primed to turn. "Knight Commander, your orders?"
Thorson radioed back with Sheffield's help, having taken position at a fortified AA battery. "First impressions are important, ladies. We have an opportunity to make two of them tonight. Don't waste it!"
"Your Majesty, we should not linger here. We are exposed," Belfast pointed out. The two of them were positioned on a dark hill overlooking Plymouth to the south and Exeter to the east. The young monarch turned Hood's pocket watch over in her fingers, feeling the cool, polished metal and glass against her skin.
"Honor and Glory? Every day we struggle to live to see the next. Where is the glory in that?" she wondered, more to herself than her caretaker. Belfast closed her eyes and remained silent. Her Majesty was a troubled enigma, an old warrior with the soul of a young lady. Fortunately for Belfast, she did not need to answer. The dead responded in her stead. Elizabeth gasped, almost dropping the watch as flames seemed to dance across the cracked, reflective face. She looked around and then above her, but the only fire she could see was far off in the skies above the dockyard. Returning her gaze to the heirloom, she saw her oldest friend and companion, Warspite, sailing out of dock proudly with her sword held aloft and Sir Raleigh on her shoulder, anti-air guns blazing away as she joined the struggle. The vision blurred and shifted, resolving into the image of South Dakota and her sister battleship.
"Oh sure, they have honor and glory right there on their chests," Elizabeth scoffed, though it was hard to ignore the calm, collected look on their faces as the two Union battleships provided the cornerstone of Thorson's defense with powerful guns and shields. The watch gifted the young monarch brief visions of Pennsylvania and Arizona, Soryuu and Hiryuu, and Ark Royal as well. For a moment she thought she even saw a shock of long, blonde hair and an Ironblood uniform before the final vision. Sailors of her homeland defending the Homefront, bloodied and tired they fought on nevertheless, shouting defiance at the incoming air raid and praying for King, Queen, and country. Belfast's hand rested on her shoulder.
"The Lady Hood is ever wise, even in death it would seem. War is hell, but every man and woman who fights earns opportunity to drape themselves in honor," she said sagely. "I'm sorry for intruding." Elizabeth nodded, wiping a tear from her eye. For far too long her existence had consisted of retreat, evasion, and casualty reports. From a distance, war truly was hell.
"Take me there, Belfast. Please," she whispered. The head of the Maid Corps smiled softly.
"As you command Your Majesty, with utmost swiftness."
"Hey, no need to play hero anymore bunny. Take a rest," Tennessee insisted, having removed her hull temporarily from the fight to check in on Hiryuu. The brazen fighter of the Second Carrier Division had secured elevation for her comrades via attrition, using her own aircraft in the majority of kamikaze flights against enemy Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulfs until Kaga and Akagi could take over anti-fighter duties. The twin kitsunes had done so with gusto, finally able to flex the superior mobility of their aircraft against the Ironblood attackers. That left Soryuu and Ark Royal to coordinate anti-bomber efforts, a task better suited to the Royal's slower and more heavily armed planes.
"Shikikan's going to be upset with you, blondie. Battle's not over yet," Hiryuu pointed out, breathing heavily as multiple bruises developed all over her body. Tennessee shook her head.
"And he'll be upset with you if you push yourself too hard. Besides, the new girls got way better AA than I do," the battleship reasoned, moving to physically support Hiryuu as the carrier's strength began to fade. "You Sakura types need to learn the value of a tactical withdrawal. Hey Akashi, we need some support over here for the rabbit!"
"Then come get it yourself if you have enough time to be on another kansen's hull, nyaa!" the minty kitty insisted. "Skies are still full of enemy aircraft and Akashi is a large tub!"
"And they will keep coming. Such is the industrial might of the Ironblood, augmented by the malice of the Sirens," Bismarck prophesized, stepping softly out onto deck to survey the battle firsthand. "Your command structure is unlike anything I've ever seen, Kommandant Thorson, but I cannot argue with its effectiveness. To thin her ranks so quickly, with so many air bases at her disposal is… If you will permit me, I would assist in this valiant defense."
"Zed, keep an eye on her," was all Thorson had to say at Bismarck's request as he continued to monitor the battle from the shoreline. There hadn't yet been an opportunity to call away a kansen from the fight to ferry him out to the South Dakota. Even if Tennessee saw fit to abandon her own hull, she was better served tending to his carriers than him. "Not sure what she could even do at this point."
Though his doubts had not been spoken over radio, Bismarck understood how juvenile her request must have seemed. The Ironblood battleship looked out over the waters of the channel, taking in the profile and cadence of Massachusetts' guns. The Union battleship was impressive in both volume and accuracy of fire, there was no doubt. "It seems you were right to criticize me, dark-skinned one. But this symphony of war, the Scherzo of Iron and Blood, it is where I was born."
Z23 watched from nearby, her rigging at the ready as the darkness of early morning began to break ever so slightly with the coming of dawn. She didn't know where Bismarck had acquired it, but the blonde-haired woman held a Luger in her gloved hand and had just pointed it skyward. "The silly Ironblood should go back inside, nyaa! They are coming directly for Akashi now and all you have is a toy!" the owner of the ship pointed out as a wing of Stukas broke off from an attacking group and dove right for them. The telltale scream of the bombers had Akashi scurrying for cover and Zed returning fire as best as she could with her rigging, but Bismarck smiled as bullets hit the deck around her and she deflected a couple of them with a flickering shield.
"The battle trance is sweet, isn't it, Zeppelin? I should know… I was the first lulled by its siren song. We would rather close our eyes and dream our glories, for that's what our masters have promised us. But they are false prophets, just as our creators were false masters. I have walked through that nightmare and survived to see the true calling of Ironblood. Now open your eyes to the same!" Bismarck yelled with sudden fury. The barrel of her sidearm glowed a sickly red, the same color as Laffey's infamous annihilation attack, as the woman pulled the trigger. (*) The cadence of battle around the dockyards stopped for a second or two as a bright, powerful beam of light shot skyward from Bismarck's position, destroying the bombers that had been diving directly at her. The leader of Ironblood closed her eyes and lowered her surviving arm. "If you lose the will to fight I will not blame you, Graf Zeppelin, not after all you have endured. But if the fire still burns within, wherever you are, find me. Find us."
Bismarck turned to Z23 and Graf Spee as radio chatter confirmed that the attacking forces had suddenly fallen into disarray. The corners of her mouth just barely twitched towards a smile. The connection had been severed. "What's with those looks, you two?"
"H-How?! Lord Bismarck-"
The battleship shook her head, glancing around them to ensure that the Akashi was no longer under immediate threat from the air. "If you're willing to take advice from someone like me, Zed, forge ahead with your own power. The price I've paid, that we've all paid, in order to do what I just did is far too great."
"And what is it that you just did, exactly?" Spee wondered, her tone ever soft. Bismarck's answer was simple yet opaque in its description.
"Nothing more than return free will to the Mother of Ironblood. I have faith she will be able to overcome those who used her powers to attack us today."
"Um…" Zed tried, unable to think of anything else to say as the three Ironblood watched the final minutes of battle unfold around them. Despite her flashy and effective attack, Bismark was content to return her weapon to a shoulder holster, concealed within her long coat. She let the combined forces of Thorson's fleet and the defending Royals clean up the remaining enemies following the attack that had severed the strings between puppet and puppet master.
"The campaign to liberate the Kriegsmarine will begin shortly, you two. But for now," Bismarck stated, closing her eyes as though to focus on a sensation just out of reach. "We shall cede the stage to others of great importance."
"Jack, I think they're breaking! Next shell!" called one of many sailors operating QF 3.7 inch AA guns at the Plymouth dockyards. When the next shell never arrived, he turned to find his partner slumped against the sandbags that helped to fortify their position, a hand over his side. "Oh shite, Jack!"
"Keep firing, damnit! I'm done," the wounded sailor insisted. "Don't let those bastards win."
"But- medic!"
"Didn't you hear him? Keep firing! For King and country!" came a sudden, high pitched voice rather unsuited to the battlefield as Queen Elizabeth hurried up to the two sailors. She could see and smell expended shells everywhere, a proof of her countrymen's valiant defense, and smiled. At a simple touch, the AA gun resumed its fire, bringing down one of the few Junkers still left in the air. "Lady Belfast, see to him with Sheffield! I'll find the others and bring them to you! You there, sailor!"
"Y-y-yes, Your Majesty?!"
"Are you still capable?"
"Of course, Your Majesty!" he saluted. Elizabeth broke contact with the gun and it fell silent.
"Then carry on! I can't do anything if I'm stuck here operating a single gun," she pointed out before pulling up one of her stockings and heading on into the thick of the dockyards, leaving a silently smiling Belfast and a confused sailor in her wake.
"Triage duty then? Is she going to be alright?" Sheffield asked as she approached Belfast in the closing moment of the battle proper. The head of the Maid Corps nodded.
"She will fight and lead, if that's what you're asking, Sheffield. Our Majesty has never been able to back down from a challenge. Now help me move him. We'll set up in that warehouse over there. We shouldn't be treating wounded out in the open."
"Sure. And the Queen?"
"Let her be. She's rediscovering why she needs to fight."
"All things considered I'd say that went rather well," Thorson said to himself, looking out at the docks where his fleet sat proudly and mostly unharmed at sea. The bulin crews were out in force, delivering coolant to rejuvenate drained kansen and attending to the superficial damage sustained by his capital ships. The same could not be said for the dockyards themselves, however. Several buildings had been demolished or set ablaze, and all assembled counted their lucky stars that the ammunition depot had not been one of them. He nodded to Indianapolis as she hopped up out of the water and came to stand beside him.
"You shouldn't be alone, Commander," she said quietly. He rested a hand on her head, disturbing her ahoge for a moment.
"I'm not anymore, am I?"
"No. The fleet awaits your orders," the kansen told him as he took stock of the situation.
"You fought well, Indy. Let's remain on standby for now. I still don't know what Bismarck did, but it seemed to turn the tide of the fight immediately. That doesn't mean it was permanent, however. Sun's coming up at least. Let's go see about finding someone from the Royal Navy."
"Ok," Indy agreed pleasantly, summoning her rigging so she could float about. Since the fight at the Sanctuary her bomb had not reappeared, but he figured such a weapon probably took more than a few meals and days of bedrest to recover. Thorson smiled as Oppenheimer the manjuu perched himself on his master's shoulder and began to snooze.
"It's been a long night for all of us," he pointed out as they wandered, doing their best to stay out of the way of damage control teams. It wasn't long before they caught sight of Queen Elizabeth herself, looking both haggard and heroic as she assisted two sailors towards the makeshift field hospital her maids had set up. She supported one with an arm over the shoulder, and was carrying the second over the other. Thorson motioned silently that they should follow, not wanting to speak to the Royal kansen's leader without at least Warspite present, not after their initial meeting.
The commander and Indy watched as Elizabeth was 'ambushed' by Sheffield upon her arrival at the field hospital, the maid procuring a Kodak Medalist from somewhere within her voluminous dress and snapping a couple of pictures. The veteran battleship began spluttering. "S-Sheffield! What in the Lord's name are you doing? Stop taking pictures and help me!"
"What do you think, Lady Belfast? Too late for the morning print?" Sheffield asked her superior, unconcerned at her leader's reaction. Belfast clicked her tongue, scolding them lightly as she helped with the wounded.
"Your Majesty, you can never underestimate the power of propaganda in times of war. News will go out in the morning press of yet another air raid on London and other sites throughout the south of the country. Imagine the response when the people learn this evening that Plymouth was saved and they see their Queen fighting on the frontlines. Sheffield, don't surprise people carrying the wounded."
"But I didn't fight…" she muttered, laying the sailor she'd been carrying down on a cot and finding her clothes stained red and she stepped away and allowed a nurse to tend to him. Belfast placed a hand on her shoulder.
"But you will, won't you? No tears now, not in front of the wounded," the cruiser urged. The blonde-haired Royal nodded.
"Yes. Yes I will."
"Knight Commander! Jolly good show, all that! Oh, you're… Indianapolis, yes? Say hello, Sir Raleigh!" Warspite urged, the spry battleship waltzing up to where Thorson waited patiently outside of the field hospital, seated on a crate with Indy as his fleet remained on standby. The manjuus needed no encouragement to catch up with one another, chirping and 'juuu-ing' animatedly. The sight had them all softening their expressions as fires were dealt with and the clean-up began in earnest.
"Hello again, Warspite," Indy returned the greeting as Thorson shook the woman's gloved hand.
"I'm glad you saw fit to leave that gigantic bomb somewhere else. It always gave me an uneasy feeling," the battleship explained, causing Thorson to wink at his heavy cruiser.
"That's because we dropped it on the Sakura. What's the situation, Warspite?" the man requested. Her brows rose and her ears wiggled atop her head, but she said nothing more about Indy's weapon.
"We won the day, in no small part thanks to your air force. I'm loathe to admit it, but your carriers might even give the RAF a run for their money. At least we Royals can count one of our number among them. Smashing her planes into the enemy to punch a hole for the others? Unbelievable," Warspite complimented Hiryuu in absentia.
"I'll let her know you thought so. Is the Prime Minister-"
"He should be with Amazon and Leander, among others," Warspite assured him, planting her sword against the ground and resting her hands on the pommel. "I appreciate your concern, but he's the last one you need to be worried about at the moment. I'd like to apologize officially for my sister's behavior. She…"
"You both have seen a lot, haven't you? Even back when I was a kid, probably," Thorson guessed, alluding to the First World War. Warspite nodded.
"Be that as it may, it is no excuse for such unbecoming behavior," the battleship sighed. "I shall have to take it up with her when we-"
The woman's ears perked up again as raised, female voices came from within the nearby building. "How can you be thinking of tea at a time like this?!"
"I never thought I'd hear you question tea time, Your Majesty."
"Belfast, we're in the middle of a warzone!"
"Former warzone, thanks to our brave sailors and formidable allies. Come, Your Majesty. Morale is just as important as propaganda."
Thorson rubbed his face, wearing a tired but bemused expression. "That Belfast sounds like a handful herself."
"Strong willed doesn't begin to describe her," Warspite concurred with a laugh before looking to the sky above where dawn was breaking and the sun was slowly climbing to the height necessary to dissipate the chilly fog that was so ubiquitous in Britannia. "But I'm very glad to see that Lizzie joined us. Thank you, Knight Commander."
"Lizzie?" he asked pointedly as Indianapolis continued to listen politely and monitor communications among the fleet. Warspite blushed before pointing strongly at him.
"I would advise against calling her that if you wish to keep your head on your shoulders. My apologies for my lack of formality," Warspite continued, but Thorson waved it off.
"Wasn't going to, no worries. But I'm not sure I did anything in relation to the Queen," he pointed out. The corgi-like battleship shook her head.
"That's where you're wrong, Knight Commander. You don't understand what the European Theater has been like. It wasn't a place where one man, or a small group of women, could change the tides of war. That may be changing."
Thorson glanced to his side, finding Indy trying to stifle an immense yawn. His own exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks as the adrenaline of battle passed. "I hate to delay our meeting with the Prime Minister further, but my fleet needs a few hours of rest at least."
"And we need some time to account for casualties and assess the damage," Warspite agreed. "I don't believe Her Majesty will begrudge you a bit of shuteye."
"Can we meet somewhere near Exeter Cathedral? The dead of this war should be laid to rest properly," Thorson insisted, causing Indianapolis to stiffen slightly. Warspite's pleased expression faded.
"I will make the arrangements. Tend to the living for now, Knight Commander. We will speak again soon," Warspite promised before heading into the warehouse, presumably to speak with Elizabeth and the other Royal kansen. With a nod, Thorson and Indy headed back to the water's edge.
"All ships to low alert status," he ordered, dragging a hand over his face to ward off a yawn as the gulls began to return to the skies over Plymouth, agnostic to the carnage as they searched for food. "Focus on sleep and then repairs. We've proven what we can do."
"Frau Bismarck?"
"Mmm, I'm keeping you awake aren't I, Zed? I apologize. Please go on. I'll return to my cot in a few moments. I couldn't even swim to shore like this if I wanted to," the battleship pointed out with a shrug of her shoulder. Z23 bowed low.
"As you command. Please try to get some sleep. That attack must have been draining," the destroyer guessed before heading inside. Bismarck shook her head sadly, gripping the railings of the Akashi with her good hand.
"I'm glad she found a place where she is needed. That girl was always too trusting, and the Kriegsmarine betrayed that trust. Oh? Where did you come from, little thing? And what's that you have there?"
The kansen's attention had shifted to a small, yellow bird attempting to hop up the side of the ship with a large piece of paper clutched in its beak. Bismarck steadied herself before reaching out her gloved hand to it, finding the manjuu to be both heavy and friendly as it hopped up her arm and then shoulder to sit astride one of her epaulets before offering her the note. "You're a brave one, aren't you? The others seem to keep to that ghost ship. Now what is this you've found amongst the wreckage of this place?"
Bismarck's curious expression shifted first to surprise and then despair as she read a pledge of protection written in U-556's script.
"Juuu~" mournfully sang the manjuu as Bismarck folded the note and stashed it safely away in the pocket of her overcoat.
"My dear Parzival of the seas, have you gone to the void? How many more were lost while I was consumed by blood and wrath?" she wondered, shutting her eyes tightly. To shed tears was unbecoming of a leader of Ironblood. "I must rest now, little one. Perhaps a well-deserved nightmare awaits me for abandoning a faithful knight to this war? Are you just a messenger?"
"Juu," the manjuu retorted shortly, seemingly content to remain on her shoulder with a stoic look in its eyes as Bismarck headed for her bed in the infirmary.
"I see," she murmured, bringing up her hand so that they could look at one another directly for a moment. "Then you shall be Parzival, a reminder to never stray again from the path I know is right. We will not stop until she and all the dead are able to rest in peace."
The fluffy bird hopped back onto her shoulder and then onto her hat where it settled down as though beginning a long watch. "Ju."
"We hereby commit these lives to the deep, to return to corruption. Looking for the resurrection. When the sea shall give up her dead, and the life of the world to come, through our Lord. Amen."
Word of a special mass to be held at Exeter had spread far and wide in the hours following the battle at Plymouth, and by the time Thorson and his fleet arrived at the cathedral, delivered by Belfast and several human members of the Maid Corps, a throng of soldiers, civilians, and kansen had assembled to pray and give thanks for victory, if only temporary.
A brief word with the priest, overseen by Queen Elizabeth and Warspite, had been all that was required. Over the next hour, Jupiter, Edinburgh, Curlew, and all of the Royal kansen who had fallen had their cubes laid to rest properly. The mass concluded with the wisdom cubes formerly belonging to Lady Hood, which still swirled with tempestuous energies.
"Knight Commander, do you think…" Ark Royal whispered from where she knelt beside him in one of the front pews, hewn from dark wood. He did not have a chance to answer her before the cubes were consecrated with holy water by the priest. A faint sound, a single note, could soon be heard echoing throughout the immense, vaulted interior of the house of worship, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. It rose in volume until louder than the choir during a Sunday service, but none covered their ears or averted their eyes. Thorson watched unmoving as the priest knelt, touched his forehead to the altar, and began to fervently pray. All but his own fleet followed suit, humbled by the presence of a 'miracle'.
"I suppose that's not too far off the mark," Thorson murmured to himself as Hood's cubes suddenly flashed and steadied out, glowing a constant, brilliant, angelic gold as the sound faded and the congregation was left in stunned silence. Even from a distance, Thorson knew what would happen if he attempted to remove those particular cubes from the altar. "I think Hermes, Prince of Wales, and the others will be alright, Ark, even if their cubes are never recovered."
"They will be found, after we win this war," Ark replied with confidence he hadn't seen since before her union with the other Ark Royals in the mirror sea. "But until then I think you're right, Knight Commander. Lady Hood was always the best of us."
"It would seem that she still is. I will advise the High Priestess to pilgrimage to this place," came Kaga's quiet voice from the other side of Ark Royal. The rest of the Sakura had seated themselves further back given the unfamiliar territory of a Christian house of worship, sending the snowy kitsune forward as a 'representative'. The two carriers looked at one another for a short moment before nodding silently as the priest rose to his feet and turned to face them all.
"Brothers and sisters, go now in the light of the Lord to love and serve one another in this time of immense strife. Do so with great joy and without fear, for so long as this light shines Britannia shall endure. Praise be to God."
"That's quite the promise, but I doubt Lady Hood will disappoint," Ark spoke quietly as Thorson made the sign of the cross and stood, waiting patiently to file out of the crowded church. Belfast approached him while Warspite and Queen Elizabeth spoke with the pastor and reviewed the resting places of the other cubes one last time.
"You've not been here twenty four hours, Knight Commander Thorson, but miracle after miracle seems to follow in your wake," the top maid complimented him, jotting down a couple of notes on a pad of paper. "I don't think you understand the gravity of what's just happened."
"Not to contradict you, Lady Belfast," he replied as the echoing acoustics of the building gave them some privacy thanks to all of the excited, ambient chatter. "But I think I have a very good idea. It's just from the perspective of someone who fights with kansen instead of a civilian."
"I suppose you're right," she allowed, shepherding him towards a side exit. His fleet took note easily enough and followed behind, accompanying Belfast through the cloister and then underground into what had to have been rather hastily constructed tunnels. "Under other circumstances I would suggest returning the majority of your fleet to the dockyards, but I believe such a concentration of power will be useful to protect the Prime Minister. He has insisted on a meeting more… suitable for peacetime, in my opinion."
Thorson cocked a brow at South Dakota, who had fallen in beside him. Her opinion on the matter was concise. "As long as the location is defensible."
"I guess we'll know when we're back above ground," the Commander replied as his fleet walked onward under the guidance of the Royal Maids. With only the occasional tungsten bulb to light the way the long journey began to claw at the back of his mind after a time, bringing back the fears of every sailor stationed on a submarine, dying trapped far away from the sun.
"Commander, Laffey is sleepy and tired," his first destroyer said what they were all thinking as he lost track of time.
"We are almost there. Patience," Sheffield ordered in her dispassionate tone. True to the surly maid's word, they soon felt more solid earth and eventually stone under their feet as they emerged into a well-stocked and well-lit cellar. Belfast held open the wooden door for them as kansen after kansen emerged from underground to find a smiling Prime Minister accompanied by Vampire and Leander.
"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to," Thorson told the bat-like destroyer with a wink as he finally emerged. Other matters swiftly demanded his attention, however. "Laffey! That doesn't belong to you!"
"Scotch, whiskey, cognac! Laffey has traveled half the world to find you, and now she will drink you. You are her spoils of war, yes yes. Commander would never deny Laffey this after she saved him many times, no no."
The smile on Churchill's face somehow managed to stretch further as he beheld the curious destroyer and reunited with Warspite and Elizabeth. "Now that is a rabbit after my own heart, Knight Commander Thorson! Lizzie, you look brighter than I've seen you in months. I take it the battle was won? I suppose I'd be in the back of one of Lady Belfast's cars if not!"
Queen Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her 'father's' jovial disposition, but did not deny his observation. "Let's just say that Warspite seems to have accomplished her mission successfully. We should move forward with our negotiations, Father, tell him about the prisoner."
Everyone's ears seemed to perk up at those words, some kansen more literally than others. "Penny-san, we aren't going to the dungeons, are we?" Yuudachi whimpered fearfully. "There's so much booze and so little meat!"
"Pipe down, pup. You're letting your imagination run wild," the battleship pointed out as Churchill stepped in to prevent any further confusion.
"I understand you expected orders, Knight Commander, but there are circumstances that merit discussion first. I technically have the right to command you given the honor bestowed by Warspite, but I'd rather not step on the toes of Nimitz or Eisenhower, eh? As such, I'd ask you all to join me for a drink, a smoke, and some discussion in the courtyard."
"No parties in exposed locations, Prime Minister," Belfast interrupted politely. The portly man was unperturbed.
"The main hall it is!"
The hall in question turned out to be the grandest room of Exeter Castle, and Thorson had to admit the wisdom of linking the Cathedral to such a location as his fleet settled in and all had their orders taken. He couldn't help a smile at Akagi and Kaga as he passed them by on his way to sit with Churchill, the maids, and the QE-class battleships. The foxes seemed completely out of their element, surrounded by heavy stone and the fragrant scents of tobacco and grain-based alcohol. "Look at it as a learning experience, or ask if they have loose tobacco for your pipe?" he suggested as Hiryuu showed no such reservations. The exhausted, white-haired carrier had requested a flight and was sampling just about everything the castle had on offer to her sister's horror and amazement.
"We will survive an hour or two surrounded by Royals while you conduct your diplomacy, Shikikan," Akagi promised him as Kaga unrolled a cigar with careful precision before sniffing lightly at the filler.
Assurances given, Thorson strode forward and took a seat next to Warspite at the end of the grand dining table. Zed, Javelin, and Ayanami could be seen trying to pace Laffey several seats down. Churchill passed him a lit cigar and a crystal glass with a single ice cube and a small pour of some amber colored spirit. "The girls just filled me in on what happened at the docks and in the Cathedral, Knight Commander. Maybe I'll have to have a beer with the Lord Bismarck too before the war is over? We live in interesting times."
"I'm unable to disagree, Prime Minister. We've traveled a long way to speak with you," Thorson replied tactfully, unsure of what to do with the cigar between his fingers. Warspite was happy to demonstrate with her own, and he couldn't help but raise a brow at the blonde-haired woman as she blew a perfect ring of smoke into the air.
"And an eventful trip it no doubt has been," Churchill said in reply before getting right to the heart of the matter. "I don't know how much you've kept up with European politics lately, Knight Commander, but the war goes poorly in the east. The Soviets are crumbling under Ironblood combined arms and we need to take the heat off. The problem, as always, is with the damned Iris Orthodoxy. The south of the country and their holdings in North Africa continue to talk out of both sides of their mouths, claiming neutrality but allowing Ironblood troops freedom of movement. I'm sure you can imagine how a Royal invasion of North Africa would play out south of the Channel."
"Not well, I would assume," Thorson agreed. "Is this where I come in? A liberation of Africa by the Eagle Union instead of conquest by the Royal Navy?"
Churchill's face wrinkled as he bit down on his cigar and smiled, giving a signal to Belfast who bowed and departed the hall. "Right on target, Thorson. You'll have a Royal escort and rendezvous with your General Patton, who's charged with leading the ground assault at Casablanca, one of three landing zones. I didn't bring you here just for that, however. There is another matter. A naval matter."
"Go on," Thorson said as he leaned forward, intrigued at the Prime Minister's tone. Churchill's brow furrowed as he took a sip of cognac.
"The exiled forces of the Knights Templar, the Iris Libre. They have been trapped by the Ironblood and political intrigue between our nations, forced to scatter to the winds. Their champion, the kansen Richelieu, has been missing for over a year now along with much of the country's gold. But the war must go on and we need every soldier we can find. They won't fight for me or my Lizzie-"
"Father!"
The exchange was interrupted by Belfast's return, the tall maid leading a slim, blonde woman in manacles with long hair, armored boots, and a low-cut, pure white blouse accented by an overcoat of the deep, royal blue that had been associated with the Iris Orthodoxy since the medieval era. The look on her face was one of wariness as Thorson and Churchill stood. "Prime Minister, who is this?" he demanded.
"Knight Commander Thorson, this is Forbin of the Knights Templar. As of today, I am entrusting her to your command. You are about to embark on a crusade of great import. The time has long past for the knights of Iris to return to the battlefield. Belfast, you may remove her shackles. I daresay the Yanks have a better relationship with the Iris than we do. All the way back to Lafayette and the Revolution, no?"
If Belfast had any reservations about her orders she did not express them, silently unlocking the restraints and stepping back. After rubbing her wrists, Forbin looked at Thorson who bowed slightly. "It's nice to meet you," he offered in a neutral tone. She returned the gesture.
"If you deliver me away from this God-forsaken island, monsieur, the pleasure will be all mine."
Far from being offended, Churchill seemed pleased at the exchange. "Then let me tell you all you need to know about Operation Torch and our ultimate target in North Africa, Tunis and its overlords, the Ugly Sisters."