Chapter 3 – Shatter
Before the operation Crimson Tide was commenced – shore of the base Horizon.
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silver glow upon the shore. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, and the distant murmur of the sea echoed in the quietude. Shipgirls, stationed at various points for lookout scanned the horizon with a stern gaze. The familiar silhouette of USS Hornet was visible near the docks, her figure outlined against the shimmering water. The occasional small conversations passed between shipgirls. Each one knew the importance of the lookout duty. As the night deepened, Hornet finally made her way to the small hut made to shield them from the cold. She strolled towards the hut, a sense of nostalgia hitting her.
Hornet's mind drifted back to the nights she had spent on watch with her sisters. They stood side by side, vigilant guardians of the seas. Hornet couldn't help but smile at the memories of those moments—Yorktown's comforting presence and Enterprise's unwavering nagging. She couldn't help but muse, that perhaps, with this new form, it was time to shed the familiar habit of calling Enterprise her sister. Pondering the evolution of her role, she silently repeated her new name: "! USS Hornet II !" She couldn't help herself. It sounded so cool! Hornet gazed out at the starlit night, a reflective glint in her eyes. "I may no longer carry the same designation as Enterprise, but the ties that bind us go beyond names and classifications." A bittersweet smile played on Hornet's lips as she continued, "We've weathered the storms of war together, triumphed over adversity, and mourned the loss of our comrades. In every battle, Enterprise, Yorktown, and I stood side by side." Hornet's gaze remained fixed on the stars as she continued her solitary stroll "Now, as an Essex-class carrier," Hornet mused, "I find myself surrounded by a squadron of sisters." Hornet burst into laughter. The sound echoed through the otherwise silent dock, a lighthearted release of tension. Amused, Hornet continued, "Don't get me wrong; they're a spirited bunch, but some can be more exasperating than even Enterprise. It's like having a house full of little Enterprises! But, well, wouldn't have it any other way." She chuckled to herself, finding joy in the unique dynamics of her expanding family. "Even if I'm no longer her sister by name, she will always be my big sister." The distant hum of conversations and laughter reached her ears. Pushing open the door, Hornet stepped into the cozy space, greeted not by warmth but by an air thick with tension. The shipgirls within eyed her arrival with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, their conversations subdued as she took a seat. "Hey there, Hornet," one of the shipgirls exclaimed. A half-hearted greeting reached Hornet's ears. It became evident that this gathering was not marked by the camaraderie she had anticipated. Hornet, sensing a need to break the ice, approached a trio of shipgirls with a friendly grin. "So, ladies, what brings you to the guard duty post? Not a fan of galas and fancy events?" HMS Revenge chuckled. "Not exactly, Hornet. We just find a different kind of thrill in keeping watch. It's like being on the lookout for a grand adventure." HMS Gloucester nodded. "Besides, we're more the quiet type. The hustle and bustle of a gala might not suit us." "You know, I've never been a fan of galas. All that formality and small talk, it's just not my scene." Hornet continued. HMS Gloucester, a spark of understanding in her eyes, replied, "Couldn't agree more, Hornet. Sometimes, it feels like we're putting on a show instead of being ourselves." Revenge chimed in, "And those gala dresses? I'd rather be in my uniform any day. At least it feels genuine." "Exactly! Give me a flight deck and a squadron any day over these formal affairs." "Perhaps we should start a club – the Anti-Gala Squad. No frills, just straightforward shipgirl business." HMS Bellona added with a smirk. The shared opinion lightened the mood.
As Hornet talked with the eclectic group of shipgirls, an internal monologue unfolded in her mind. "Huh, not everyone from the Royal Navy is jazzed about galas, it seems. Can't blame 'em though—all that glitz and glam – not exactly my vibe either.
Leaning against a wall, she continued with a wry smile. "Some of us prefer the simplicity of a well-fitted uniform to the whole gala gown extravaganza. I mean, who needs those fancy shindigs when you can feel the roar of engines and the familiar hum of a flight deck under your feet?"
Bellona added in her resonant voice, "Indeed. Guard duty allows for a moment of tranquility amidst the constant activity of the base." Hornet raised an eyebrow. "Tranquility, huh? I guess I've been missing out. Maybe I should join you all sometime." Bellona grinned mischievously. "Feel free to drop by, Hornet. We're always open to recruits for the night watch."
Hornet, enjoying the casual conversation, suddenly noticed a change in the atmosphere. Her gaze shifted to the radar operated by HMS Bellona, and her eyes widened as she saw pulsing dots converging on the screen. "What's going on, Bellona?" Hornet asked, her playful tone replaced by urgency. Bellona's expression shifted from casual to alert. "Looks like we've got incoming vessels. Multiple contacts, let me check their designation." She manipulated the controls, narrowing her eyes at the screen. "It's a sizeable fleet of unknown origin, Revenge try radio contact!" Gloucester interrupted, "Can't radio either, I already tried. They're still at a distance, but we need to be prepared. I'll inform command." Hornet nodded, her playful demeanor replaced by the seriousness of the situation. "Hey, who's taking the reins for tonight's guard duty? Anyone got the details on the watch schedule?" The shipgirls exchanged glances, while others looked around for a response. Hornet's query hung in the air, prompting a discussion among the crew about the logistics of ensuring the base's security during the gala festivities. Amidst the discussions about guard duty, HMS Sheffield stepped forward "I believe you're the one in charge tonight, Hornet." Handing over a neatly folded piece of paper that contained the watch schedule." Hornet took the schedule, unfolding it with a nod of gratitude. Examining the watch schedule, a realization hit her like a sudden gust of wind. How could she have forgotten to check her assigned role for tonight? A mix of surprise and chagrin flashed across her face. "Looks like I've drawn the short straw." "Seriously, Enterprise?" she chided her sister internally. "In the middle of a gala, and I'm the one in charge of the watch duty? Smooth move." Determined to rectify her oversight, Hornet quickly assessed the situation. She scanned the gathering shipgirls, a few of whom had already started to call forth their riggings. With a subtle shake of her head, Hornet called out to some of her fellow ship girls, "Hey, I need a couple of you to go check the situation, I will send my airplanes to go with you in case something bad happens." Bellona, catching wind of the impromptu investigation, interjected with a raised hand. "It might be worth noting that the automatic coastal artillery hasn't started blasting away at the approaching fleet. That could mean they're friendly. Maybe we should approach cautiously and assess the situation before jumping to conclusions." Hornet nodded in agreement. "Good point, Bellona. Let's not stir up unnecessary trouble. We'll check things out, but keep it low-key. We wouldn't want to ruin the gala mood with a false alarm." With a sense of caution, they prepared to investigate the situation. Sheffield spoke up, "It's hard to tell from here, but we should get a clearer view as we approach the coast. We can then assess the situation and figure out the best course of action." With a collective nod, the group prepared to move towards the coastal vantage point, where they hoped to glean more information about the approaching fleet without escalating tensions unnecessarily. Hornet and the other shipgirls in the guard hut tried to assess the approaching threat on the radar. Hornet couldn't shake the concern gnawing at her. She grabbed her communicator, attempting to reach Enterprise. "Enterprise, this is Hornet. Do you read me? Over." Silence. The usual prompt response from her sister was absent, replaced by an eerie emptiness on the other end. Hornet frowned, exchanging glances with the Royal Navy shipgirls. "You think Enterprise has her communicator on her? She always does." Hornet tried again, "Enterprise if you hear this, respond. Something's up." The communicator remained stubbornly silent. It was as if an invisible hand had jammed the signals, cutting off their communication. "Strange," Hornet murmured, eyes fixed on the radar screen. "I've never seen interference like this before." Revenge, with a stern expression, added, "Could be a problem with the equipment." "This is strange," she remarked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity. "What we're seeing on the radar doesn't add up. Those dots are appearing and disappearing at random intervals, someone is jamming our radio signal and radar. It's making it impossible to get a clear picture of what's out there." The shipgirls exchanged glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Hornet's assessment signaled the presence of a deliberate effort to disrupt their equipment, adding a layer of complexity to the unfolding mystery. Hornet, recognizing the urgency of the situation, swiftly issued orders to her fellow shipgirls. "Alright, everyone, we're moving to the coast as we planned. Prepare to intercept whatever is out there. We need to get eyes on the situation." She singled out two shipgirls, "You," pointing to one, "head back and notify Enterprise about the situation. Make it quick. The rest of you spread out along the coast and be ready for anything. "Addressing another shipgirl, Hornet continued, "Use the communicator and try to establish contact with Enterprise. Let her know what's happening. Staying inside won't resolve this situation. We need to be proactive." With a sense of urgency in the air, the shipgirls dispersed to carry out their assigned tasks
As Hornet and the shipgirls swiftly moved towards the dock, the distant hum of engines echoed as Hornet called forth her rigging. "Gear up, everyone," she commanded, her rigging materializing with an authoritative glow. "We need to get a closer look. Launch the aircraft for reconnaissance; we need to see what we're dealing with." The shipgirls responded promptly, launching aircraft from their carriers and employing various rigging abilities. The air around the dock became a symphony of activated riggings, the shipgirls preparing for the impending encounter with a mix of determination and vigilance. Hornet, leading the charge, directed her aircraft towards the approaching fleet, ready to gather crucial information and assess the nature of the mysterious threat that had disrupted the gala night. The radio silence from the unknown vessels puzzled her. "Why are they not responding to our hails even when we are so close?" she mused, the question lingering in the air. Her mind worked through the possibilities, and then it clicked. "Even if there was a jamming device on the coast, we would already be out of its range" Hornet realized. "They're the ones jamming our communications. That's why our attempts to contact them are falling on deaf ears." The shipgirls around her adjusted their course, aligning with the reconnaissance mission. Hornet's thoughts delved deeper into the situation. "But why the jamming? What are they trying to hide or prevent us from knowing?" The enigma surrounding the approaching fleet deepened, and Hornet couldn't shake the sense that there was more to this situation than met the eye.
As Hornet observed the approaching ships, her eyes widened when she noticed the distinctive Royal Navy flags fluttering in the night breeze. The ships were part of the support group scheduled to arrive in five hours for the crucial Arctic mission. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. "Those ships... they're the Royal Navy reinforcements!" Bellona grinned. "Looks like our support arrived early. That's a relief." Hornet felt a mix of emotion. Relief that they weren't under attack, and concern about the unexpected early arrival. "Why are they here ahead of schedule? Something's not right." With a firm resolve, Hornet pressed on, determined to unravel the mystery that had thrust them into this unexpected confrontation on what was meant to be a peaceful gala night.
The mysterious Royal Navy fleet docked at the pier, and Hornet rushed to meet them. As she approached, the imposing figure of HMS Monarch came into view. Monarch, with her regal presence, was a sight to behold, but something in her demeanor added to the growing tension in the air. "You must be USS Hornet, I´m HMS Monarch." Monarch greeted, her tone measured but carrying an undertone of urgency. "We've had to alter our plans. There's been a significant development so we had to depart sooner than was expected." Monarch exchanged glances with Sheffield. Hornet's expression shifted from worry to relief. Hornet's eyes narrowed as she faced Monarch. "You should have contacted the base commander, Enterprise, about the changes in the plans. Geez, I thought you were some kind of invasion force trying to take over the base. Communication is crucial, especially in situations like this. We need everyone on the same page to effectively address whatever is happening. Oh yeah, you couldn´t because our radio and radar equipment are behaving weirdly. At first, I thought you were jamming it, but that is not true of course. I will have to talk with Akashi about selling us poor-quality goods again…"
As Hornet led the shipgirls towards the hut, her mind buzzed with questions. The sight of the approaching fleet, seemingly with an excessive number of shipgirls, fueled her curiosity. In the recesses of her thoughts, she pondered the uncertainty that surrounded this unexpected encounter. "Why are there so many of them?" Hornet wondered internally. Though she couldn't ascertain the exact number, the reinforcements appeared to outnumber what she would consider standard even for a special mission. The unexplained abundance of shipgirls in the approaching fleet added another layer to the mystery that gripped the atmosphere.
"Why did you bring more personnel than we agreed upon?" Monarch, feigning innocence, responded calmly, "Circumstances changed, and we needed additional hands for the mission." "We had carefully planned teams. Why the sudden need for more personnel?" Monarch's demeanor shifted slightly, a hint of irritation crossing her features. "Hornet, these are complicated times. We've discovered information that demands a more significant response. The situation has evolved since the initial briefing." Hornet's skepticism persisted. "Evolved or deviated from the plan?" Something's not right, "Monarch. I need straight answers. What's your game here?" "Hornet, you've always been a curious one. Let's just say our priorities have shifted for the greater good. You'll understand in due time. Right now, focus on the mission at hand. There's much more at stake than you realize." Hornet's suspicions deepened. Something was not right. She discreetly pulled out the folded piece of paper from her coat. The list of shipgirls on guard duty was neatly handwritten by Enterprise. Her eyes scanned the names HMS Bellona, HMS Gloucester, HMS Revenge, HMS Sheffield, … — all Royal Navy shipgirls. Disturbing realization struck her—every shipgirl on that list was from the Royal Navy, except her. She furrowed her brows, recalling how Bellona, despite operating the radar, hadn't alerted them about the approaching fleet until Hornet herself noticed it—the sheer number of shipgirls and the unresponsiveness to their attempts at communication. Hornet's eyes widened with the revelation that sent shivers down her spine. This isn't a reinforcement fleet; it's really an invasion force. The gala night had turned into a high-stakes confrontation with an unexpected hostile incursion. Hornet's expression hardened as she realized she had fallen right into their trap. Now surrounded by more than 20 shipgirls she had no chance of winning against them. As they walked peacefully through the dock, Sheffield dialed on her communicator a familiar contact, hoping for a response. However, the call went unanswered, leaving Monarch with a sense of unease. Hornet, aware of how bad her situation was, tried to distract the Royal Navy ship girls with some random small talk. But all of them knew what was going on. She was now an unofficial hostage. The communicator in Sheffield's hands started to beep. She glanced at it, a moment of hesitation crossing her face before she answered. A familiar voice echoed through the device. The words "Operation Crimson Tide" hung in the air, and Hornet felt a chill down her spine. Hornet discreetly reached for her communicator, the jamming now down, she intended to make a quick, quiet call to Enterprise. However, her attempt didn't go unnoticed. The soft beep of her device caught the attention of HMS Drake, who was quick to react. Before Hornet could react, Drake delivered a precise shot that rendered the device inoperable. Hornet's eyes widened as she felt herself being restrained by two other Royal Navy shipgirls, their expressions somber yet determined. The unexpected turn of events left Hornet in a vulnerable position, the disrupted communication and the restraint intensifying the enigma that surrounded the invasion and the motives behind the Royal Navy's actions. Monarch turned to face Hornet, a wry smile on her lips. "Looks like we're past the talking phase, dear." There was a glint in her eyes, a mix of determination and something else—something that sent shivers down Hornet's spine. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?"
Present - Back at the gala.
Eugen chuckled lightly. "Always sharp, Wales. The situation within Iron Blood is something even I'm not fully briefed on." Wales raised an eyebrow. "You did not know about the rumors of Iron Blood personnel being in a bad state?" Eugen smirked. "They don't trust me. Or maybe they think it's more amusing this way." Wales pressed on. "What is your opinion? Is Iron Blood facing internal strife? Could the coup happen within Iron Blood?" Eugen's eyes gleamed mysteriously. "My sources are reliable, but even I can't unravel the full truth alone." Wales´s words spoke volumes to Eugen. "Wales, it's highly unlikely that a coup is happening within Iron Blood. We've recently been reunited under Friedrich´s leadership, and there's been a sense of unity and stability. The notion of internal discord doesn't align with our current state." Prince of Wales, considering Eugen's words, nodded in agreement. The reassurance about the stability within Iron Blood eased some concerns, yet the mystery surrounding the intercepted message remained. Prince of Wales, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern, recounted the disconcerting information to Prinz Eugen. "You intercepted the message five days ago, on the next day your highest permissions were revoked, the same day you were informed about a relocation to a deserted Iron Blood post, alone. Next day you attempted to seek clarification or understand the reasons behind these decisions." "Yes, and all of them were met with silence and dismissal. The next day I tried to ask any of my contacts why it was that way, but even they did not know. I had them look into the post I was assigned to, and I immediately thought it would be the perfect spot to get rid of a rat that knows too much. I asked and begged all of my contacts to push my relocation to the base Horizon. The diversity of shipgirls from all the factions offered a perfect protective shield. No one would like to start another faction war by killing high ranking official of Iron Blood in a joined base." As she spoke, the Prince of Wales scrutinized Eugen's reaction, a silent plea for confirmation or guidance in navigating the complex web of intrigue that now surrounded her. "Eugen, are you really sure the coup is not in your faction and you are just idolizing the situation?" "No, I´m sure Wales, but Iron Blood may play a role in the coup. Or at least that is what I think." "Yes, it is very unlikely that all that happened to you would be just coincidences." Prince of Wales hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. She took a deep breath, deciding that transparency was the best course. "Eugen," Wales began, her tone serious, "we need to talk. About the gala, about the mission, about everything." Prinz Eugen looked at her, a mix of curiosity and concern in her gaze. "What's troubling you, Wales?" "I let Enterprise eavesdrop on us during our whole conversation," Wales confessed. "She, along with Richelieu, knows about the situation in Iron Blood. And they want to help." Eugen's expression shifted, a blend of surprise and wariness. "Enterprise? Why would she be interested in our affairs?" Wales sighed, realizing the complexity of the situation. "She believes that whatever is happening in Iron Blood could have consequences for all of us. She's willing to assist us, Eugen. Richelieu, too." Eugen's eyes narrowed slightly. "And why would they do that? What's in it for them?" "They want to understand, and perhaps, prevent a catastrophe." There was a moment of silence as Eugen processed the information. Then, with a contemplative look, she nodded. "I suppose allies in unexpected places could be beneficial. But can we trust them?" Wales met Eugen's gaze, her eyes unwavering. "I believe we can. Enterprise and Richelieu aren't our enemies. If anything, they might be the key to unraveling the mysteries about the coup." Eugen sighed, acknowledging the weight of the revelation. "Very well, Wales. Let´s involve them. I thought it was weird that you wanted to talk about our internal affairs. Mainly because you scolded me last time I tried to tell you something." Eugen chuckled. "You were aware that I was working with someone didn´t you?" "I heard your conversation with Richelieu and Enterprise at the park. You know, if you want to talk about secret things, you should do it in less public place…" "You are a handful, do you know that?" Remarked Prince of Wales as they interlocked their hands and started to walk toward the control room. "Your handful" A hint of amusement in Eugen's tone.
The elegant ballroom buzzed with the lively chatter of shipgirls in their resplendent dresses. Prince of Wales and Prinz Eugen gracefully glided through the crowd, momentarily enjoying the music and the atmosphere. Suddenly, they were intercepted by a familiar figure. "Ah, Wales, Eugen," King George V greeted with a warm smile, her eyes admiring their attire. "You both look stunning tonight. Quite a sight to behold." Wales inclined her head in acknowledgment, her stoic demeanor intact. "Thank you, Your Majesty. We appreciate the compliment." King George V chuckled, her gaze shifting between the two. "So, I can't help but wonder, what's the story here? You two seem to be getting along quite well. Anything you'd like to share?" Wales exchanged a glance with Eugen, both shipgirls maintaining a certain level of discretion. "We're allies on the battlefield, Your Majesty," Wales replied diplomatically. "No deeper story to tell." King George V raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "Allies, you say? Well, the camaraderie among allies is essential, especially during times like these." Eugen joined the conversation with a smirk. "Indeed, we understand the importance of cooperation."
In a moment of lull between the music and laughter, Prince of Wales took a deep breath. She faced King George V dragging Eugen, who was trying to flee the scene, with her. The dance floor casts a soft glow on her serious expression. "Your Majesty," Wales began, "I´m sorry but I lied to you. Prinz Eugen and I are not merely allies; we've been seeing each other." King George V raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" she mused, her tone holding a hint of amusement. "Well, I must say, that's quite an unexpected development. How long has this been going on?" Wales turned, her eyes meeting Eugen's. "Long enough for it to matter, Your Majesty." "What do you have to say to this? Do you enjoy taking my sister from me?" Eugen, usually composed, couldn't answer King George V this time… She was internally preparing to meet Enterprise, not meet Wales´s strict "parent"! Prinz Eugen, recovering from her initial surprise, chuckled. "Well, I suppose love knows no faction boundaries. As long as it doesn't interfere with our collective mission, I see no reason to object. Carry on, then." As King George V walked away, Wales couldn't resist a playful nudge to Eugen. "Looks like you've survived the royal scrutiny." Eugen laughed, a melodious sound that echoed in the ballroom. "Survived and thrived. Your sister seems more open-minded than one might expect." "Perhaps," Wales said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or perhaps she has her eyes on a bigger picture. Either way, let's not give her more reason to worry. Let's move swiftly to Enterprise and resolve this problem of ours." With that, the two continued walking, leaving behind an air of mystery and subtle tension. Prinz Eugen and Prince of Wales stealthily approached the entrance to the control room. As they attempted to access the room, they quickly realized that it was securely locked. The wooden door resisted their efforts, and the gravity of the situation deepened as they exchanged a concerned glance. "The control room is locked," Prince of Wales remarked, her frustration evident. Prinz Eugen, equally perplexed, nodded in agreement. The unexpected barrier added another layer of mystery to the already complex situation, leaving them with more questions than answers. Prince of Wales, trying to find a plausible explanation for the locked control room, turned to Prinz Eugen with a hopeful expression. "Maybe they left to the command center to make adjustments to the Arctic mission? It's possible they needed privacy for strategic discussions. Let's check there; we might find some answers." "Wales wait!" Placing her ear against the locked control room door, Eugen listened intently. "Wales, say something," she instructed, her expression growing more serious. As Prince of Wales uttered a few words, Prinz Eugen's realization struck like a bolt of lightning. "They didn't stop the broadcast of our conversation," Eugen whispered, a sense of urgency gripping her. The revelation heightened the stakes, and together, they grasped the gravity of the situation — their discussions and plans laid bare for anyone with access to this room. It was a security risk that Enterprise neither Richelieu would let slide. Eugen, always resourceful, took a step back, scanning the corridor. Spotting a fire extinguisher on the wall, she smirked. "Stand back my dear. Let me handle this." With a swift and practiced motion, Eugen grabbed the extinguisher, her strength evident in the ease with which she swung it. The loud clang echoed through the corridor as the extinguisher collided with the control room door, forcefully opening it. Wales watched with a mix of admiration and amusement. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," she teased. Eugen laughed, giving the door another forceful blow. "You'd be wise not to. Now, let's see what secrets they're hiding in there." Swinging open the door to reveal the dimly lit control room. The glow of screens illuminated the faces of Eugen and Wales.
As they cautiously entered, their eyes fell upon a scene that shattered their composure. Richelieu, once a pillar of strength, lay lifeless on the cold floor. A wave of sorrow engulfed them as they rushed to her side. Wales, her hands trembling, checked Richelieu's pulse with a futile hope for signs of life. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, clutched Richelieu's lifeless hand. Eugen, known for her unyielding composure, found herself kneeling beside the fallen leader. Her gloved fingers trembled as she reached for Richelieu's wrist, hoping against hope to feel the faint pulse of life. But there was nothing—only coldness and stillness. "No... this can't be happening," she whispered, the words hanging in the air like a lament.
In the somber aftermath of discovering Richelieu's lifeless form, Prinz Eugen and Prince of Wales found themselves grappling with a troubling question: the whereabouts of Enterprise. The control room, once a nexus of strategy and collaboration, now seemed to hold secrets darker than the depths they sailed. The air was tainted with the acrid scent of chemicals, a sinister fragrance that clung to the atmosphere like a phantom. Wales, her brows furrowed in both grief and suspicion scanned the room. She turned to Eugen. "Enterprise... where is she? … Do you think she is… too?" Eugen, her features a mask of contemplation, followed the invisible trail of the ominous scent. "There's something off about this room. The smell of chemicals is too strong. And there isn´t any evidence of fighting, meaning that whoever killed Richelieu, personally knew her and about this mission." Wales's eyes narrowed. "You're saying that Enterprise killed her. But why?" Eugen's gaze was unwavering, betraying a mix of concern and vigilance. "Enterprise has been acting strangely lately. We can't rule out the possibility that she's involved in this." As the weight of suspicion settled between them, the once-unquestionable bonds of camaraderie now seemed fragile. The delicate dance of trust and doubt cast a shadow over their unity. The base Horizon, once a sanctuary, now echoed with uncertainty and the echoes of betrayal. "We need to find Enterprise," Wales declared, her voice firm despite the turmoil within. "If she's responsible, we need to bring her to justice. If not, she might be in danger herself." Eugen nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Breaking the uneasy silence, Eugen glanced ahead. "We need a backup—someone high up who won't play games. But we can't just spill the beans to anyone. Richelieu trusted the wrong person, and look where it got her."
Wales, contemplating the situation, responded "We need someone rock-solid, loyal to Azur Lane, not swayed by shady motives or double-crossing." Eugen met her gaze. " Eccentric, sure, but she's been in this game long enough. If we're picking a horse in this race, your sister sounds like the best option." Prince of Wales, grappling with grief and uncertainty, turned to Prinz Eugen with a heavy heart. "Approaching my sister might be our best course of action, but I can't shake this fear of the unknown. Are you sure about it?" "Even if we find evidence that Enterprise is the one who did it, she is still the base commander and influential figure all around the world. In contrast, we are just a knight and an officer madly in love. Accusing her without solid proof could have severe consequences for us, not just within our faction but globally," Prinz Eugen expressed, her voice laden with caution. Prince of Wales nodded in acknowledgment. The potential fallout from pointing fingers at someone as influential as Enterprise raised the stakes. Accusing their commander of murder based on limited evidence could reshape their fate within the naval alliance. In their pursuit of the truth, it would be wise to have a third party that would act as a witness of the truth. Prinz Eugen and Prince of Wales, their faces masked with a veil of concern, closed the door of the control room and moved back to the main hall. Swiftly moving to King George V. They requested a private conversation, King George V acquiesced and led them to a more secluded area away from prying eyes.
Once in privacy, the atmosphere weighed heavily with unspoken tensions. Before either could broach the pressing matters at hand, King George V, her gaze thoughtful, turned to Prince of Wales. "Is there something more personal you wanted to discuss, my dear sister? Are you perhaps... expecting?" Prince of Wales, caught off guard by the unexpected question, blinked in surprise just before realizing the jest. A genuine smile broke across King George V's face, and she burst into laughter. King George V's playful remark lightened the mood. It paved the way for Prinz Eugen and Prince of Wales to delve into the serious matters at hand with a more relaxed atmosphere. "Oh, my dear sister, you should have seen the looks on your faces! I was just pulling your leg. Whatever it is you want to discuss, I'm sure it's not as daunting as you thought." Prinz Eugen took a deep breath before blurting out the weighty revelation to King George V. "We found a lifeless body in the control room. We suspect Enterprise might be the murderer." A hushed silence fell over the trio as the gravity of the news sank in. King George V's expression shifted from amusement to serious.
King George V, her initial surprise giving way to a more serious expression, fixed her gaze on Prinz Eugen and Prince of Wales. "I certainly didn't anticipate this turn of events. Please tell me, you're not playing some elaborate prank right now, are you?" She studied their earnest faces, realizing the weightiness of the accusation they were presenting. Her eyes widened briefly before a veneer of composure settled over her features. "Do you comprehend the implications of suspecting the base commander of murder?" The gravity of the situation hung in the air, and King George V awaited their response with a mix of concern and curiosity. The air seemed to thicken with tension. King George V's gaze intensified, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "You can't simply drop a bombshell like this without giving me the complete picture. Where exactly did you find Richelieu's body, and what evidence do you have to implicate Enterprise?" Accusations of murder within their ranks demanded a meticulous examination. Prinz Eugen and Prince of Wales exchanged glances before Prinz Eugen began recounting the grim discovery in the control room. Their narrative wove through the details – the locked door, the ominous intercepted message, and the unsettling implications that led them to suspect Enterprise. King George V listened attentively, absorbing every detail of the unsettling sequence of events that had unfolded within the confines of their base. Eugen eyed King George V, waiting for a response that could either cement or shatter their fragile trust. King George V's face remained inscrutable for a moment, and then she spoke, her voice measured. "I may not have all the answers, but I assure you we will find the one who killed Richelieu. She was a valuable asset to Azur Lane. If you suspect Enterprise, we need to act swiftly." Wales added, "We can't trust just anyone. We need someone influential who won't sweep this under the rug. We need your help." King George V sighed, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Very well. We'll handle this discreetly. But understand, that if we expose this prematurely, we risk chaos within our ranks. Lead me to the room where you found her. I will examine the scene and we will move from there." Eugen nodded, her gaze unwavering. The corridors of the base seemed to close in on her, whispering secrets and conspiracies that danced just beyond the reach of understanding. The culprit had already revealed herself, it was just her brain that failed to catch the information. Yet, her subconsciousness was aware that they were once again stepping into another intricate trap.
Prince of Wales took the lead, guiding King George V back to the control room. As they retraced their steps they were once again led inside the main hall.
*BOOOM*
The sudden explosion rocked the serene atmosphere of the gala, shattering the laughter and elegance into chaos. Debris fell from the ceiling, and the acrid scent of smoke filled the air. They painted a chaotic scene, an abrupt departure from the festive air that had prevailed just moments earlier. The once-celebratory hall was now full of panicking ship girls. Amidst the dust and disarray, emerged the imposing figure of HMS Monarch, her rigging emanating an ominous glow. Behind her, loyalists from the Royal Navy brandished their weapons, their expressions devoid of the camaraderie that had filled the room just moments ago. The glittering chandeliers swung precariously, their lights casting eerie shadows on the wreckage. The betrayal was not just an act of rebellion; it was a plunge into darkness. Prinz Eugen and Wales found themselves disoriented amidst the confusion, the treacherous act unfolding before their disbelieving eyes. Monarch's voice, cold and unforgiving, cut through the chaos.
"On the ground, now! Hands behind your back!" Monarch proclaimed, her words dripping with venom. The atmosphere turned dense with the stench of burning embers and betrayal. The once-stunning hall, now a war zone, bore witness to a coup within its very heart. Prince of Wales, still in shock from the abrupt turn of events, found herself propelled by a surge of defiance. "What do you think you're doing?" she shouted at Monarch, her voice echoing through the hall. "Are you out of your mind? Do you comprehend the repercussions of this? Are you so desperate for recognition that you would obliterate everything that Her Majesty has painstakingly built?" Monarch, expressionless, met Wales' fiery gaze with an icy stare. The air hung heavy with tension as the two royal navy shipgirls, once allies, now stood on opposing sides of a perilous divide. "Silence!" Monarch's command sliced through the room. Wales, undeterred, continued her verbal barrage. "Do you truly believe I will stand idly by while you commit an act of treason against our Queen? I won't allow you to desecrate her legacy!" Prince of Wales, fueled by desperation, attempted to summon the power of her rigging, a defiant cry escaping her lips. However, her valiant effort was met with a thunderous gunshot that echoed through the hall, drowning out any resistance. Startled, Wales turned to face the source of the shot. There stood Eugen, but something was profoundly wrong. Before Wales could comprehend the situation before her, the mysterious figure behind Eugen raised the weapon again. the familiar face she knew so well was replaced by an expression of cold detachment. It was as though George had become an entirely different person — a cruel mimicry of her sister. The truth became painfully evident as the trigger was pulled once more. Eugen's body crumpled to the ground, blood staining the grandeur of the gala. Shock and disbelief gripped Wales as the room descended into chaos. The cacophony of fear and panic merged with the echoes of the gunshot, signaling the shattering of alliances and the irrevocable descent into treachery. The grand hall, once a haven of celebration, transformed into a chilling theater of bloodshed. King George V, now in control, moved with calculated precision. Her eyes scanned the room, evaluating uninjured shipgirls. "Any resistance will be met with severe consequences. The Royal Navy will be reborn, and we shall not be hindered by traitors." King George V, now standing at the forefront of this sudden coup, pointed her weapon at the shocked and bewildered shipgirls. The barrel of the gun seemed to extend her authority, demanding obedience. The shipgirls, once vibrant and full of life, now surrendered to the cold, hard floor of the gala hall. Each descent was a reluctant acknowledgment of the stark reality they found themselves in. In this moment of vulnerability, even the grandeur of their riggings couldn't shield them from the threat within. Wales, driven by desperation, attempted to crawl toward Eugen's heavily bleeding body. However, she was abruptly halted as the cold steel of a gun pressed against her forehead. The source of this threat was none other than King George V herself, her eyes devoid of the warmth that once characterized them. Wales locked eyes with her sister, a mix of grief and disdain coloring her expression. Eugen lay on the floor, a silent testament to her sacrifice. She had intercepted the bullet meant for Wales, choosing to give her life to shield her from the ultimate betrayal. Wales, with defiance in her eyes, despite the gun pressed against her forehead, mustered the strength to confront King George V. "How could you do something like this?" she demanded, her voice a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You have the face and the body of my sister. But my sister would never do what this monster did." King George V remained stoic, her expression unchanged. There was a coldness in her gaze that betrayed any semblance of the warmth Wales once knew. The chaos of the gala had given way to a more sinister plot, and the once-trusted leader was now the architect of their despair. Other shipgirls, still on the ground with their hands behind their backs, observed the tense exchange. Fear and confusion danced in their eyes. King George V's voice cut through the stunned silence, commanding authority and instilling fear. "The next time someone tries to manifest a rigging, another ship girl will die," she declared coldly. "Someone tries to flee, another will be punished. Now, if you know what is good for you, you will all lie down on the ground with your hands behind your back." The shipgirls, though paralyzed by the sudden turn of events, understood the gravity of the situation. They were one by one ushered to the main hall, where the grandeur of the gala had been replaced by an ominous air. Now positioned in the middle, forced to kneel on the stone-cold floor, the once vibrant space had turned into a symbol of their captivity and despair. The echoes of laughter and camaraderie were replaced by hushed whispers and heavy breathing, a stark reminder of the sudden shift in their fates. All hostages were fitted with rigging-nullifying collars, rendering their powerful abilities useless. Their wrists and ankles were bound tightly, leaving them powerless and at the mercy of their captors. Ten shipgirls, once comrades, now stood guard with a readiness to eliminate anyone who dared to resist. Wales's desperate plea echoed through the hall, "Please! Someone, help her! Eugen is still alive!" her voice choked with emotion. Despite her hands and legs being tightly bound, she wriggled and crawled towards the now-dying Eugen, a painful determination in her eyes. Tears streamed down Wales's face as she pleaded for assistance, her voice a mixture of fear and determination, "Please, we need a medic! Anyone, please help her!" The silent hall remained cold and unforgiving. Drake arrived, ushering in the last of the shipgirls that did not attend the gala. The hall was now filled with hostages, As Drake surveyed the scene, she remarked with a sinister confidence, "We have all of them except Enterprise and Belfast." "Don't worry, she'll show up eventually on her own. And our dear head maid will be right on her tail." Responded George. With that, Drake, George, and Monarch left the room, leaving the shipgirls to grapple with the uncertainty of their fate. The air in the hall felt heavy with tension, and the shadows of despair loomed over them all. Wales pleaded with the shipgirls nearby. "Eagle! Bellona! Revenge! We are friends, allies! Please, help her!" The desperation in her voice echoed through the hall as she watched Eugen's life slowly slip away, her pleas a desperate attempt to stir some compassion among those who once stood as allies.
With the lovebirds
The evening air carried a hushed tension as Enterprise and Belfast stood atop a hill overlooking Base Horizon. Belfast's gaze was fixated on Enterprise. A profound silence enveloped them. The quiet ambiance amplifies the intensity of this moment. A wordless exchange unfolded between them, Belfast's eyes locked onto Enterprise's, searching for clarity. The air crackled with emotions, the aftermath of Enterprise's unexpected confession hanging between them. Belfast´s gaze held a mixture of surprise, warmth, and perhaps a hint of fear. She took a moment, before responding in her usual calm and composed manner.
"Enterprise," her eyes reflecting the moon's gentle glow, fixed themselves at Enterprise. Under the moonlit sky, Enterprise stood with bated breath, her heart pounding. With a delicate cadence, Belfast answered, "I've always found solace in your presence. It's more than duty or camaraderie. When you're around, everything feels... different. I've tended to your needs, ensuring your coffee is brewed just right, not just because it's my duty, but because it brings me a strange sense of joy." Belfast's eyes flickered with uncertainty, caught in the swirl of emotions unleashed by Enterprise's confession. She hesitated, searching for the right words, her normally composed demeanor showing signs of vulnerability. She paused, a faint blush gracing her cheeks. Enterprise waited, her gaze steady, offering Belfast the space to explore these feelings. "But love, in the way you've described, it's... it's something I've never allowed myself to consider. The complexities of emotions, the intricacies of our roles... it's all so perplexing." Belfast´s uncertainty slowly transformed into raw honesty. "Yet, when you're near, the world seems to slow down. Your strength, your unwavering resolve, your body, your everything… — it draws me in. And tonight, with you at this moment, I can't deny there's a force between us that goes beyond any logic I've known." She looked into Enterprise's eyes, a mixture of confusion and longing reflected in her own. "Enterprise, I may not have all the answers, but I do know that whatever you do, I want to be there with you. Right by your side. You are someone I want to understand, and explore, even if it means navigating uncharted waters." Belfast's heartfelt words hung in the air. The breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it a moment suspended in time. Enterprise's eyes softened, touched by the sincerity in Belfast's admission. Bathed in an ethereal glow, Enterprise took a step closer, her hand reaching for Belfast's. Their fingers intertwined. "Belfast," she whispered, "I've carried this with me for so long, afraid of how it might change our dynamic. But tonight, I couldn't hold it back any longer." Belfast's expression softened. "Enterprise," she said, her voice a gentle melody, "you don't need to be afraid. I've felt the same pull, the same connection that goes beyond our friendship." At that moment, with the moon as their witness, Enterprise and Belfast found themselves drawn into a tender embrace. The night seemed to pause, allowing them to savor the beauty of this revelation, this newfound connection that promised a different kind of adventure. Their lips hovered close, and Belfast's heartbeat quickened. "I don't have all the answers either," Enterprise confessed, her thumb tracing a gentle path on Belfast's cheek. "But I know that every moment with you feels like discovering a new constellation in the vast sky. Together, we can navigate these uncharted waters, one star at a time." At that moment, as lips met in a tender kiss beneath the moonlit sky, Enterprise and Belfast embarked on a new journey of exploration and understanding. Yet this journey was about to get a difficult start…
*BOOM*
With HMS King George V
The figures of HMS Monarch, HMS King George V, and HMS Drake huddled around a holographic projection. Monarch's stern expression remained unchanged as she spoke, "You have twenty-four hours to breach their security." The holographic figure nodded subtly, responding with a voice both confident and mysterious, "That will be done. Ensure nothing interferes with our plans." "Contact the second group to prepare the defensive measures." King George V, her regal demeanor unwavering, concluded, "Make sure the perimeter is impenetrable. We can't afford any slip-ups. This operation has to proceed flawlessly. Failure is not an option. Understood?" "Roger" "But I do wonder. Why the rush? We've got their frequencies jammed. I reckon we've got a good 42 hours before they catch on to what's happening. Why the 24-hour deadline to breach their security?" The holographic figure projected questioned the urgency. King George V, with a steely resolve, responded to the holographic figure's skepticism. "Better to be prepared and act swiftly. We can't afford to underestimate them. The element of surprise is our advantage. We proceed with the 24-hour plan. No room for complacency." "Then I better get to work." the holographic figure stated, its form dissipating into nothingness. HMS Drake left the room, heading to contact the second group. leaving King George V and Monarch alone. King George V contemplated the situation. She turned to Monarch. "Seems a bit noisy in there. Perhaps a gentle reminder is in order." She suggested. Monarch, thoughtful but resolute, replied, "I believe it might be counterproductive to resort to further casualties. Let's maintain control without escalating the situation. We need them compliant, not desperate." Her words reflected a strategic consideration, aiming for control without unnecessary bloodshed. "Agreed, that might be the better course of action," King George V acknowledged Monarch's stance. After thinking for a few seconds, she directed three shipgirls to retrieve Richelieu's dead body from the command room. Wales looked up at the new arrival with tears in her eyes. She knew what this meant – her sister and mentor were truly gone, replaced by a monster she did not recognize. Their chances of survival were dwindling with every passing moment. Tears welled up in her eyes as he tried to process everything that had just happened.
As the hostages lay on the cold floor, their hands bound and hope dwindling, the heavy atmosphere in the hall grew even more oppressive. Suddenly, the doors swung open. With a cold and deliberate air, they dropped the lifeless form of Richelieu beside the heavily injured Eugen. As the body of Richelieu hit the ground, any sense of defiance was pushed out of their minds.
_
DEPICTION OF EXTREME VIOLENCE – if you are sensitive to this type of content, this is the end of chapter 3. Thank you for reading.
As the body of Richelieu hit the ground, the impact sent shockwaves throughout the room. Her head slammed into the floor with such force that it left a dent in the concrete. Blood splattered everywhere, coating the walls and furniture in a sickening red mist. Wales was lying nearby, still trying to crawl her way to Eugen. She had never experienced anything so violent or disturbing in her life. It was hard for her to reconcile with the fact that this was happening. That her sister could kill so callously and without mercy. Other hostages were weeping in disgust and terror. They had seen enough violence to last a lifetime.
George, who had been standing near the entrance of the room, watched in silence as Richelieu's lifeless body lay motionless on the floor. She had returned to the hall just in time to witness the gruesome scene unfold. With a cold expression on her face, she raised her canons and aimed them at the corpse of Richelieu. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger, sending a volley of bullets. The noise was deafening, drowning out everything else in the room. The hostages flinched at the sudden burst of gunfire, their faces etched with fear and terror. As the smoke cleared, George stood tall and proud, a smug grin on her lips. She knew that this was a defining moment for her and her cause. By mutilating Richelieu's dead body, she had sent a message to the rest of the world that she was not to be messed with. And as far as she was concerned, anyone who got in her way would meet the same fate. For the hostages, however, the sight of Richelieu's bullet-riddled body was almost too much to bear. They were paralyzed with fear, unable to comprehend what had just happened. What followed was silence, only broken by the pained breaths of the injured Eugen and the occasional whimper of despair. This was a moment of profound uncertainty, and it was taking a heavy toll on everyone involved. At that moment, it seemed as though the entire world had conspired against these innocent shipgirls.