Operation Rumor Mill

by DeltaDestroys01

A codebreaker and his ship girl companion are tasked to hunt down and destroy siren superweapons that are holding humanity in a deadlock. Though these superweapons are secretive in their own right perhaps something more sinister will get to humanity first? Or maybe there is a link between threats? Rated M to give myself breathing room in the creative process; adult themes mainly.

36. Chapter 36: The Grind

NOTICE: A small detail in Chapter 33 has been altered. Please refer to the notice at the beginning of Chapter 33. I'll remove this notice with the posting of chapter 37.

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

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

"Continuous effort—not strength or intelligence—is the key to unlocking our potential."

- Winston Churchill

Chapter 36: The Grind

Nashville had a dream that night. In that dream, she was inside a dimly lit room with one wall being transparent as if made of glass. On the other side of the glass was another room, but this one had another window on the far wall through which streamed daylight and a limited view of a desert landscape. This other room was inhabited by scientists and high ranking officers in the Eagle Union Army. They appeared to be completely ignorant that they were being watched by her. Among them was hushed chatter and tense speculation. One particular scientist had a clipboard in his hand and his best responses to comments directed at him was gestures. He looked familiar. But her dream deliberately enshrouded part of his face to render identification impossible. He wasn't the only one who looked familiar. There was an officer whose face was similarly enshrouded.

Through a door in the side of that room that Nashville only just noticed, an enlisted soldier walked in with a large box in his hands. He said, "I was ordered to distribute these among you."

The scientists and officers streamed towards the enlisted man and retrieved a pair of goggles with dark lenses. Nashville had a bad feeling about this. The enlisted man left and only a few seconds later, there was a loud voice over an unseen intercom. "T minus thirty-seconds. Personnel, put on your protective equipment or divert your eyes from the test." The instructions were heeded by everyone in the room who donned their goggles and then looked outside towards the desert.

Suddenly, the door to the side of the room burst open and a man that Nashville recognized well charged in. It was her commander. He was dressed like the rest of the scientists, but with one big difference. He didn't have his goggles on. He frantically called, "General Groves! Doctor Oppenheimer! We have to stop this test! We're opening Pandora's Box and it'll kill us all!"

The crowd reacted nonsensically by not reacting at all. They completely ignored that there was someone now shouting among them. She looked at her commander. Panic turned into anger which turned into wrath. He marched towards the men who now had their faces unenshrouded so that she could see them easily. J. Robert Oppenheimer and Leslie Groves. Her commander again shouted, "General Groves! Doctor Oppenheimer! Stop this test!" They didn't answer and less than a second later, her commander was standing besides the two men. Las Vegas saw the futility of spoken language and he made the decision to speak with his fists, delivering a vicious right hook to the kidney of General Groves.

Groves himself finally answered her commander with his own skills at fisticuffs. The men fought for a few seconds, but Groves was winning. He had pinned Las Vegas to the ground and was strangling him. Nashville banged onto the glass has hard as she could. But in this nightmare, she didn't have the strength to save her love. Her commander was growing blue before his impending demise. The door opened up again and a figure charged in like her commander had. This person had on a lab coat and pushed Groves off of her commander, thus saving him. They stopped to look down at Las Vegas. Nashville knew this person too. It was Doctor Anzeel. Groves stood up from having been pushed, but rather than get back to fighting, he finally spoke, "Why should we stop? Science is already heading in this direction. If we don't create this device first, then our enemies will. And what then? Are we just going to be playing catch up with a gun pointed at everything important to us?" The intercom began to count down from ten, and General Groves offered his final words. "Now. I don't give a shit what you two do. But history is being made as we speak. You can watch. Or you can go out and try to tussle with what's about to happen." He put his goggles back on and returned to Doctor Oppenheimer's side. The doctor was as talkative as a dead man yet he had observed proceedings closely. Now both men's attentions turned outside as they resumed ignoring the outsiders.

Las Vegas had finally recovered enough that he was getting back to his feet. His clenched teeth showed his intention to keep fighting Groves. It was Anzeel that stopped him and reasoned, "No. He's right. It's for the best that we don't have to play catch up."

The intercom got to five and continued to count down.

"Five..."

"Four…"

"Three…"

Nashville's commander turned and finally looked directly at Nashville away from what was about to happen in the desert. He asked her, "But what if we're already behind?"

"Two…"

"One…"

"Zero..."

Trinity detonated in apocalyptic majesty. There was a flash of light above the brightness of the sun that flooded into the room. It was so bright that Nashville's vision became awash in white and she couldn't see anything else. Until now, she had been hearing the voices clearly but now she could only hear words as if strained through an old black-and-white television. For the first time in her dream, Doctor Oppenheimer spoke and his voice penetrated time itself like a haunting memory. "We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the prince that he should do his duty and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, 'Now, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.' I suppose we all thought that one way or another."

XXXXXXXX

The next morning, Nashville shared her dream in its entirety to her commander. She also offered her own interpretations of what she saw. Trinity and the atomic bomb was the power to open up mirror seas that the Heralds of the Deep have. Right now, there is no response to that power. Thus, Nashville requested that Doctor Anzeel be made aware of Operation Rumor Mill, its mission, and the state of things relating to it.

Las Vegas thought about it for a few seconds, trying to see any upsides or downsides to enlisting the aid of the good doctor. Given the sort of dangers that the duo are dealing with, involving Doctor Anzeel seemed like a good idea. He consented and asked her when she would want to have the doctor informed of everything. He figured that since it was Nashville's idea, she should be the one calling the shots this time. She accepted the duty and said that she'll let him know when she decides to tell the doctor and that she'll make sure that he can be there too as it's happening. Seeing no fault in that, he consented but also asked Nashville what she was going to be doing while he was busy working with Doctor Anzeel for the coming week.

This question gave the light cruiser pause while she considered what she wanted or needed to do. Mentally, she listed off what was on her mind. But then vocally she answered, "Really, the only thing that I have to do is figure out how to work that medic bag into my rigging. After that, it's just people. I'd like to spend some time with Cheshire. You were busy with that one Iris girl, but while we were at lunch yesterday, I asked Doctor Anzeel to show me how to ride a motorcycle like she has. I'd also like to meet the rest of the Iris girls and if you got some time, I'd like you to be there too."

All that sounded good to him, but he zeroed in on one detail. He asked, "You asked Anzeel to teach you to ride a motorcycle?"

Nashville's reflex to that question was concern. Did her commander object? She probed, "Yeah. Is it cool?"

He shrugged and said, "Yeah, it's totally cool. Just don't get hurt."

That answer made the young woman relieved and she couldn't contain her excited smile about this particular idea. She chirped, "Awesome! Thanks Las Vegas!" But then another thought came to her and she requested, "But hey, would it be alright if you could show me how to drive a car sometime?"

He chuckled for just a moment at a pattern he's been following this morning. "Call me a 'yes-man' but sure thing. You want to bring Anzeel into the fold and tell her about Operation Rumor Mill? You got it. You wanna learn how to ride a motorcycle? Go right on ahead. You are at liberty to choose something like that. You want me to teach you to drive a car? Absolutely. Is there anything else you want me to say 'yes' to while we're here?"

Nashville got an idea for something that she wanted. "Okay. I got two things I want you to say yes to. Number one. Can we buy me a motorcycle just like Anzeel's?"

That was an unexpected request from his friend. He thought for a few seconds to try and justify the larger cost. He pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger and sucked in a breath through clinched teeth. "Sorry, Nash. I feel like there really isn't a need or really even a use. Or at least not enough use to justify official funds." His friend visibly deflated and then he quickly added on, "But I try to be reasonable. Can you persuade me to spend the money I've been earning as a commander? I did get a sizable promotion when I took this assignment and haven't spent hardly anything of it."

The young woman took some heart and she succeeded in not sounding overly upset. She confessed, "I'm honestly glad that you won't just roll over and spoil me. As much as I'd love you to." She then recalled several conversations of the past weeks. Grinning mischievously, she remarked, "Now I wish I could've seen an alternate reality where you became a butler instead of a knight. I'd be spoiled rotten." He rolled his eyes and that made her giggle for a moment.

When finished, she got back onto topic. "But, well… Let me think…" Now, Nashville did something that echoed her commander by putting her fist to her chin as she thought. He couldn't help but smile at seeing that. A few seconds later, she ventured, "Well, Europe is a big place. Relatively. And an extra pair of wheels can't hurt."

Her commander was giving her a drawn out hum to show that he wasn't entirely convinced.

The light cruiser was really close to trying to use an emotional appeal to her commander. She wanted this very badly. But he wasn't the sort to be swayed by any emotion less than shedding tears, and there was no way she was going to do something as emotionally manipulative as that to try and get what she wanted. So, she resorted to logic. "I admit that this is more of a want than a need. But look at it this way. By buying this we'd also be getting a backup plan when we're on land. It's not just a motorcycle, it's peace of mind and a get-out-of-jail-free card. And because a motorcycle is smaller than a car, we can even weave through traffic. You saw how bad London traffic got. I don't think the mainland will be any better."

He sighed deeply and caved. "What's the point of money if we don't spend it? Besides, it's not like we take any of it with us when we die. I'll buy it for you. But on a condition. You need to get Anzeel to tell me that you can drive one properly. I get the impression that she's very concerned for your well-being, so getting her approval works for me. Now, what's that second thing you want?"

Nashville previously pensive demeanor was forgetting instantly and it gave way to her being positively giddy with excitement. Anzeel's motorcycle had been so cool with how it rumbled and whined and how fast it looked. She knew without a doubt that she needed one of her own. Her excitement didn't wane in the slightest as she made her second request, "Would it be alright if we hang out in New York City like how we did in London after you woke up?"

Suddenly, the man slipped into denial once again in spite of his initial thoughts. He mentally told himself, "No. It's not a date. It's just something casual between friends. Just like what happened in London. She even said so herself." Having successfully willed himself to ignorance, he easily answered, "As long as duties permit it, we can do that. Remember, I am going to be in command of an Iron Blood fleet. But I happen to have gone to NYC a few times while I was in grad school. So, I feel like I know a sight or two."

It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, but still, in less than five minutes of conversation, she felt like she was getting everything she wanted because in reality, she was. She thanked her commander with a big smile and a bigger hug. Following that, the duo carried on with their morning routines, but today, they decided to stay aboard Nashville's hull, just in case Doctor Anzeel showed up early.

In this expectation, the duo would be incorrect. At the agreed upon 0900, the codebreaker had been sitting inside the officer's mess continuing to cram for the arrival of Doctor Anzeel when Nashville spoke over the radio inside Mr. Bond. "Anzeel just arrived. She's standing on the dock with a few whiteboards on rollers."

He picked up the device and replied to Nashville over the radio, "Sounds good. I'll head there now to help out with the whiteboards. No need to wait up for me if you're already standing there."

"Got it," she replied.

Las Vegas finished writing his last note down and he stood from where he was sitting to make his way to greet the doctor. When he came out on the deck he saw that the doctor and his companion were already standing on the dock itself and sure enough, Anzeel had two whiteboards on rollers. He wondered if Anzeel had wheeled them there herself or if she had some help. Regardless, when he was down the gangway he offered his greeting to the Doctor. Her own greeting while not particularly warm, wasn't cold either. Still she asked, "How far did you get into the binder I gave you?"

"A little less than halfway through."

Following that, the doctor somehow succeeded in looking both impressed and disappointed at the same time. "That's not as bad as I was expecting. But not as good as I had hoped," she admitted. "Did you understand it?"

His answer was a lukewarm, "More or less."

In return, she gave her own lukewarm, "It'll have to do."

Seeing that the proceedings were becoming kind of dour, Nashville took control of the situation and inserted, "Don't be too hard on him, doc. He'd've studied right through the night if I didn't march him to his cabin last night and ordered him to get to bed."

The man very much appreciated Nashville sticking up for him here. Over the past two days, Doctor Anzeel has proven herself as one who is willing and capable to drag someone over the coals a time or two. If he can avoid having that happen to him, then he'd be very grateful.

Anzeel relented and stopped that course of thought and speech. Instead, she requested aid for moving the whiteboards aboard Nashville to wherever she and the commander were going to work. The plan was to set up in the officer's mess but there would be a problem getting something like a whiteboard through passageways and down ladders to get there. It was a slow process, but Nashville, being the ship, had the ability to guide the efforts to move the boards through the largest passageways and ladders. Eventually they arrived at the officer's mess hall with the first board. They repeated it with the second one and they were finally able to get started.

For her part, Nashville now had found herself much more willing to leave her commander and Doctor Anzeel alone for extended periods because if Anzeel was gay, then there's no reason to worry about her trying to make moves on her commander. She tried to decide on what she wanted to do next. Eventually, Nashville directed towards Anzeel, "So, before y'all get started, I want to ask you something doc."

"You can ask me anything," Anzeel replied without a second thought.

"My commander and me have been talking, and we think you can help us out with our operation. Would you be willing to help us out? It's really secret, so you'd need to keep it on the down low."

Tova Anzeel was no stranger to secrecy. That part didn't frighten her. What did give her pause for concern is all the other details. There's a naval officer with no name and very peculiar skills given his station who commands a lone shipgirl. When she asked her various dates in the port what they knew about the man or his shipgirl companion, they could only offer speculation. He has something to do with the draining of a wisdom cube and somehow survived touching it. And when she asked Roscoe about him, his answer was something she had never heard before. He had said to her, "If that man decides you need to know what his business is, he will tell you." To say that the doctor was curious would be an understatement, but there was also that twinge of hesitancy with confronting the unknown. However, she didn't get where she is in life by turning down opportunities. So, she said, "I can keep a secret. If you think I can help, I'll hear what you have to say. But can this be later? I don't want to be distracted until after Charybdis's launch. She's my priority."

The Unionist duo nodded and Nashville spoke for them to say, "That works for us. It's important. But nothing is on fire right now or anything, so we can wait to tell you."

"Perfect. Thank you," came from Doctor Anzeel. "Will you be joining us for this?"

"Nah, I don't think I will. I got the basics of how shipgirl launches work from him," Nashville gave a gesture towards her commander. "After that, all the math and science mumbo-jumbo would just go over my head." Then she lightly joked, "But if you have any questions about ballistics, gimme a holler."

Anzeel nodded her understanding. Even though having a beautiful woman hanging around would make her super motivated to plow through this problem, she wasn't so selfish that she would ask one of her beloved shipgirls to hang around for just that.

Then to her commander, Nashville requested, "If you don't mind, I'd like to go out and about into the town. Maybe hang out with Cheshire or Hood. Maybe try to make a new friend or two. But if I run into Richelieu, would it be alright if I try to schedule a time for the two of us to meet the rest of the girls in her fleet?"

"Sure thing. And thanks for that with Richelieu. Please let me know whatever it is you decide to do about lunch. But other than that, have fun."

"Awesome. Thanks Commander," she concluded.

She offered her goodbye to both people but Anzeel whined melodramatically, "Aaaawww. No hugs?"

Nashville giggled at that. As it turned out, the doctor had a surprisingly good puppy dog expression that the light cruiser couldn't say no to. Anzeel got her hug. And without thinking, Nashville also gave one to her commander. Then she was off, leaving the officer's mess and going down the passageway bound for the town. She did not look forward to having her chat with Cheshire. But it had to be done.

Las Vegas and Anzeel heard the high-heeled clacks of Nashville's shoes fade and then disappear. They were alone. The doctor finally set down her backpack onto the table that Las Vegas had been studying at. He said, "I guess we'd best get going with this, huh?"

He was rejected by the doctor saying, "In just a bit. I've been thinking and there's something that I want to talk to you about." That made the man a bit nervous as to what she wanted to talk about. Her backpack was unzipped but she didn't open it. She turned around and with a straight face, she observed, "I can see that you and Nashville are close. Have you slept with her at all?"

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"Have you fucked her?" rephrased Anzeel. She then insisted on an answer by asserting, "It's an important question."

Without warning, the man's mind was awash with sensuous thoughts involving his friend especially her magnificent posterior. The nerd from Las Vegas struck again and he stammered stupidly for a few seconds. Anzeel watched him redden from the question but she didn't comment about his reaction. She needed honesty right now. A few seconds passed and he recovered enough that he shook his head vigorously and denied, "No, I haven't had sex with Nashville."

"Good," stated the doctor definitively. "You're technically not supposed to anyway. But I'm no prude so I won't act like shipgirls aren't the most drop-dead gorgeous women on the face of the planet. I promise that I won't judge if you can get a shipgirl to get frisky with you some day. God knows I'm all for some of that myself."

She opened up her backpack and produced a colorful box. She tossed it to the man and he caught it. He looked at it and observed, "This is one big box of condoms."

"Right, now here's the thought that came to me. As I saw yesterday, your wisdom cube affinity has been boosted to an unnatural degree. Because it is completely untested, I don't know how your wisdom cube affinity can affect shipgirls, if at all. But I do have a guess, so let me regale you with a sad story. Almost since day one of having shipgirls, a number have snuck out and had sex. We've found that it is extremely difficult for a shipgirl to get pregnant with a normal man. But twice, it has happened. The first girl was unlucky enough to have her government find out about it. She carried the child to term and gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Guess what happened? The kid was taken away never to be seen again. Despite my crusade looking for the kid, I've gotten nowhere closer to finding him. The other shipgirl was here in the UK. The government found out too, but thank God for what Roscoe did. He sat the girl down and gave her two horrible options when she was supposed to have no choice. She wanted to keep her child desperately, but she still had to choose between surrendering it to the government or secretly having an abortion to spare the kid of a fate worse than death. It broke the heart of everyone who had one, but the pregnancy was aborted. The woman herself never got over the loss. Seeing as how shipgirls are born out of wisdom cubes and your affinity has been supercharged, it's entirely possible that you can get a shipgirl pregnant easier than any other man on Earth. I'm giving you those condoms to spare Nashville or any other shipgirl you might sleep with the pain of having to go through the fucked up nature of the world's governments."

Las Vegas was speechless for a time. But eventually, he found what he wanted to say. "Thanks. I hadn't considered that possibility. Luckily, I haven't noticed anything strange with Nashville even though she's the shipgirl I spend the most time with."

Anzeel continued with the heavy subject matter. "Yeah you'd better be thankful. I could push Roscoe to get you either castrated or sterilized. But from what little I've seen so far, Nashville trusts you, so I will too despite by better judgment."

He didn't immediately respond to that. Instead he dwelt on the thought of who those two girls may be. He considered all the Royal Navy shipgirls he's met so far. There really only was one of them that struck him as the sort to have never really gotten over a tragedy. He took an educated guess and ventured, "Was it Nelson?"

The doctor cringed hard, thus answering the question. Seeing that she could no longer keep it a secret, she said, "Yeah. It didn't help that the guy she hooked up with was a real piece of shit. There used to be a time when she smiled and laughed like her sister, but not any more."

He couldn't respond to that. He didn't have the heart to. Rather than immediately speak, he slumped into a seat. He had never once considered that Nelson had been required to go through something as horrible as having to choose between surrendering her own child or aborting it when she wanted to keep it. Las Vegas had only thought that she was naturally a grouchy person. He reached a conclusion that he should have discovered long ago. "Things are not as they seem. I wonder if I'll finally learn that at some point."

Doctor Anzeel chuckled darkly. "I feel that way constantly," she confessed.

"Did you have any idea that this is how things would turn out for shipgirls? That they'd be enslaved to fight in another war?"

She slumped into a seat beside his. "I was an idiot. A fool among fools. I was enthralled with the science of wisdom cubes when the Sirens gave them to us. The possibilities seemed endless. But there were pushes to weaponize them somehow. We had just been contacted by aliens after all. So, I came up with the idea of shipgirls. I was lied to. I was told many things to keep me from getting cold feet about the prospect of being someone's god. I was told that my creations would be well treated and hailed as heroes. And I believed them even though the deception was so obvious. I have some influence with Roscoe and with Hara because they value my expertise. Or maybe they're sympathetic of me—I don't know. Regardless, I was crazy to believe any government."

"This is messed up," opined Las Vegas. "We bring the dead back to life just to fight again. And then we repay them with insults to their injuries."

"It's fucked up is what it is," corrected Doctor Anzeel. "However the point of no return was crossed a long time ago. And I have fuck-all when it comes to real power in the world to change anything. The best I can do is advise or pray that Roscoe and Hara backs me up. But even that has limits."

He shed himself of his sadness and replaced it with hope. "Even still, I wouldn't despair just yet. Could I interest you in hearing my devious master plan to fix this problem with shipgirls?"

Though she noted the change in the man's countenance, Anzeel didn't share in the optimism. Regardless, she invited him to share by saying, "Heh. You've had surprises so far. So, fuck it. Let's hear this."

"Calico Jack is a war hero. Tales of the Magician are spreading in the Union. I'm banking on the same to happen with Nemo in the Iris Orthodoxy. With luck and a recent opportunity that just came up, I think that these larger-than-life characters can garner enough political influence to help out the world's shipgirls."

Tova Anzeel hated it, but she was getting just a tiny taste of fleeting hope. In a level monotone meant to hide such a hope, she remarked, "You son of a bitch. You're the Magician too? So, if Roscoe or Hara can't help shipgirls, you're going to find a way to bypass their authority and fix the problem yourself?"

He nodded deeply with a mischievous smile. "Yup."

"You're a goddamn madman. I love it."

He chuckled, "You're more right than you know. What sort of madman would take on a mission so classified that he couldn't hear what it is unless he agrees to go through with it? I'll have you know, I was quite content with my world of ignorance working as a cryptographer for the Eagle Union Navy. But knowing what I know now, there's no way I can stand idle and do nothing. Especially if there's a chance that I can make a difference."

"Hero complex much?" accused Anzeel.

He immediately contradicted, "I don't think of myself as a hero. And I don't like being called one either."

"Suit yourself. But I don't think I'm breaking any new ground when I say that the thing that looks like a duck or quacks like a duck is a duck."

"Point taken. But I'd rather not get anyone's hopes up—including my own—by doing something so arrogant as saying, 'Yeah. I guess I am a hero. I'll save all of you.' There's too many unknowns in the equation to go making conclusions like that."

"Fair enough."

"Sweet. But I do have a question about something you said earlier."

"What is it?"

"Where did you get the idea of shipgirls?"

Nostalgia washed over Tova Anzeel like a wave. She said, "To answer that, I'm going to have to do a bit of introducing myself. I'm from Budapest in Hungary and both of my parents are Jews, so that makes me one too. There was some strain in the family so I decided to look for faith outside of Judaism. I was looking far and wide for whatever was out there and at some point I came across a concept of Shinto, the religion of the Sakura Empire. It goes that an object can have its own spirit. Some spirits, or Kami, are more powerful than others. Now, back to Budapest. I was walking along the Danube River as it flowed through the city one day while pondering this when I tripped and fell into the river. I almost drowned but a man on a boat fished me out of the water and revived me. As I lay on the boat, brain still deprived of oxygen, the idea came to me. What we knew of wisdom cubes is that they could be used to create sentient life—the Sirens told us that much—so what if we could manifest the spirit of a big powerful boat, i.e. a warship, to stand against the Sirens in the face of humanity? It instantly became my obsession and the rest is history."

Las Vegas could only comment, "Thank God for the Danube."

She laughed at that and agreed, "Yeah. Thank God for the Danube." Her laugh concluded and she said, "And can I hazard a guess to say you're limited with how you can introduce yourself?"

"You'd guess correctly. But I'll give you the condensed version. I'm from Las Vegas in the Southwestern Eagle Union. I went to college so that I could avoid being conscripted. The war kept going all through undergrad, so I went to grad school to try and wait it out. It worked. The war ended but once I graduated from that, Uncle Sam still decided that I had to serve and I had to choose between being conscripted or signing up. I signed up for the navy and got a shore posting as a cryptographer. I had been doing that for about a year when suddenly, Roscoe and Hara showed up and got me to sign up for my present position. I met Nashville the next day."

"I didn't take you for the sort that would have tried to get out of military service. I asked Roscoe and we share the same level of security clearance. So, can I ask for your name?"

"Sorry doctor. If I can't share my name with Nashville, then I can't share it with you either. But if it helps you, Nashville calls me, 'Las Vegas,' so if you want to go with something other than 'Commander' or whatever other names I seem to be collecting you totally can."

"Yeah, I think I'll go with that 'Las Vegas' name then. But I have one more question and then we really should go ahead with the work ahead of us. What do you think of all these names you're getting?"

"They're very gratifying. But I try not to let them do anything weird with my ego."

"That's good to hear. But would you go grab the wisdom cube if you don't already have it? I'll set things up and write a few things on the board and we'll get started."

"Sure thing. Be back in a bit."

The would get started trying to put together the Quick Finisher Algorithm for Charybdis once he got back and the wisdom cube's continuing good condition was confirmed.

XXXXXXXX

Nashville was pretty sure there was something wrong with her… Again. Is it normal to be this intensely focused on the person that one loves when they aren't around? The word "obsession" crossed her mind, but she quickly tried to blot it out and succeeded in doing so. She's never done this before, she reasoned with herself. She was still new to this whole love thing and it was still exotic and exhilarating to her. It didn't help that every time he looked at her, called her name, or smiled at her, she would get butterflies in her stomach. If only he knew how aflutter he made her. But still, rather than stay with Las Vegas and Anzeel for hours on end, she elected to take advantage of the freedom that she had been granted to do whatever she pleased while they are working. And besides, Nashville understood that it wouldn't be fair if she's allowed to be alone by Las Vegas, but she doesn't let him be alone.

Nashville had already left her hull and gotten to the end of the dock. A feeling of being alone that she didn't like hung over her. Perhaps that's just what happens when someone has to do something for themselves and by themselves. She had passed Queen Elizabeth's throne hall when she came across Duke of York and Prince of Wales. They exchanged pleasantries and the light cruiser asked the two battleships where either Cheshire or Richelieu was.

The two battleships could take a pretty good guess as to why Nashville would seek out Cheshire. It was time for the two to settle their differences when it came to the affections of Nashville's commander. But as for why Nashville would seek out Richelieu, Prince of Wales had to ask for a reason. Nashville explained that she and her commander wanted to meet Richelieu and those in her fleet better. The Union duo only knows about half of their names as it is and next-to-nothing about them otherwise.

The request made sense. It's best to know who one is going to be fighting alongside. What made it even better for the battleship duo is that the Unionist's request for aid was convenient to fulfill. They invited her to come along with them as they were to join Queen Elizabeth, Richelieu, and their respective commanding officers in getting a plan together for the coming campaign.

All it took was a quick jaunt into the throne hall and into Queen Elizabeth's office to find Richelieu. Nashville noticed the sideways glances her direction that showed how there were secrets being discussed that she was not welcome to hear. Her commander might trust Queen Elizabeth or perhaps he trusts her intentions, but Nashville was much more iffy with the teenage monarch. Nevertheless, that trust or lack thereof didn't much matter at the moment. Richelieu was excused from Queen Elizabeth's office for a few minutes for the Unionist to talk with her. The Iriswoman granted the light cruiser's request to have a get-together with her, her commander, and the Iris. They would be able to meet at Richelieu's hull for a meal in a few days time.

An interesting thing that registered to Nashville right as the cardinal had given her answer is how the proceedings have been a blur. She didn't remember what Prince of Wales or Duke of York had said to her outside. She didn't register any of the greetings that had been sent her way when she appeared at Queen Elizabeth's office. She barely caught Richelieu's response. And she knew why she was like this. The prospect of finally talking alone with Cheshire horrified her. Finally, while they stood in the relative privacy of the hall outside of Queen Elizabeth's office, Richelieu said something that hit home for Nashville. "Please be careful," invited the cardinal.

"What?" asked Nashville dumbly.

"You seem distracted. There is something troubling you," she observed.

Nashville hesitated to proceed. She didn't know how much she wanted to trust Richelieu. After all, she barely knew the Iriswoman. Finally, she ventured, "Did Queen Elizabeth tell you?"

"Yes, she did," answered Richelieu without any hesitation. "I am partly to blame. I had requested that Queen Elizabeth tell me everything she knew about you and your commander. She granted my request and told me everything she knew, including the conflict that you have with a certain someone over the attention of another certain someone. Please forgive my intrusion. It had not been my intention to delve into matters that personal."

Something suddenly occurred to Nashville and alarmed, she asked, "Did Queen Elizabeth only tell you? Or do others know as well?"

"It was a private conversation between her and me. I have shared parts of the conversation with Vice-Amiral Fabre. But as for the more personally confidential topics, I have decided to keep them to myself. Affections of this type have proven to be rather troublesome when higher authorities become aware of them. I also asked what Queen Elizabeth had shared with Commodore Belanger. She only shared the pertinent information to his role as a naval officer. This particular secret of yours is safe with us. We are all shipgirls. We have all been how you are. And we understand that this is a matter better resolved among ourselves. Therefore, I return to my original invitation. Please be careful. I feel that there will be a solution somewhere. But please believe me, a woman with some regrets, when I say that you will want to be very careful about both burning bridges and allowing them to be burned."

These words needed a few seconds to properly sink into Nashville's mind. She nodded deeply and her alarm had faded. She pondered Richelieu's words, especially the part about her being a woman with some regrets. She considered what little she knew about the world at large and then she considered what she knew of the history. She forged ahead and guessed, "There's still hurt feelings and raw nerves between you Iris shipgirls when it comes to the Iris Libre and Vichya Dominion isn't there?"

The cardinal had a saddened expression come upon her face and she plainly mewled, "Yes."

"I'm sorry that happened to you," she offered softly. But then her own soft expression became tainted with amusement. The cardinal perked up and was about to ask what was on Nashville's mind when the light cruiser continued, "I don't know the future, but if me and my commander ever have to work with the Iris like how we've worked with the Royal Navy or will be with the Kriegsmarine, I guarantee that he would try to help rebuild that bridge somehow. He's kind of an idiot that way. He can't help himself but try to help."

"Queen Elizabeth said as much. She made it sound like such a mix between blessing and curse. However, if your commander can somehow maintain peace between the nations involved in the coming battles, then I will be much more willing to accept any help to try and heal the wounds that have formed between the shipgirls of the Iris Orthodoxy. I have tried all that I can think of."

"He'll try is very hardest. That's the kind of person that he is. But, uh, sorry for suddenly deflecting the talk to be about you. I appreciate that you're willing to talk with me like this. And I'll do what you told me. I'll be careful. I don't want this bridge to burn."

Richelieu dismissed, "Think nothing of it. I'm just happy to see you being wiser than I was. But I'm also even more curious to see the sort of man that your commander is."

In a moment of realization, Nashville conveyed to Richelieu that her commander doesn't drink alcohol. So, he won't be partaking of any wine during their visit. The Iriswoman only looked perturbed for a moment before recovering. Farewells were exchanged and the cardinal give Nashville one last measure of assistance at this time. She said that Cheshire should be with Surcouf in the main square. So, off went the young woman in search of Cheshire, her friend and rival.

XXXXXXXX

Cheshire was easy to spot, but hard to look at. And when Cheshire herself noticed Nashville without her commander, her expression soured. It looked like Nashville wasn't the only one that was dreading this moment. But the light cruiser explained to herself that this was like pulling a nail our of her foot. It would hurt coming out but would be disastrous to keep in. As much as she didn't want to have this discussion. She had too. Hopefully Cheshire felt the same.

The sudden shift of mood left Surcouf with a mounting confusion that showed clearly on her face. She was unaccustomed to having Cheshire appear so serious given the bounciness of her personality. As Nashville drew near, Cheshire offered a bare bones explanation to Surcouf that the Unionist overheard. Cheshire said, "Me and Nashville have had a… um… Well, we've had a problem between us that we agreed we would try to work out. So, can I find you again later?"

Typically, Surcouf would simply accept the request and she would go off to find a place to settle down and maybe take a nap. But upon seeing her friend be so upset about something, she hesitated to leave so easily. She requested to know, "I don't know how, but can I help at all?"

Cheshire was afraid. She could not deny it and she would even go so far as to conclude that she felt more comfortable sailing out to fight Mordred. Yes, it was frightening to think that Calico Jack might die, but now she was at risk of losing Calico Jack and a friend. It seemed that the longer her thoughts dwelt on the man, she felt her love for him increase. She wanted to have him desperately and she was willing to make some concessions to make that happen. Nevertheless, a question nagged at her heart. Did she want too much?

"I don't think you can," weakly answered the cat-like cruiser to Surcouf.

"Okay. Well, see you later then," she said and then Surcouf walked away somberly. She wanted to say something to try and comfort her friend, but she wasn't the sort that was any good at giving advice. That was typically reserved for Richelieu.

With Surcouf now gone, the remaining two women regarded one another. Nashville tried and failed to force a smile. Still, she greeted with, "Hi Cheshire."

Cheshire also tried and failed to smile back. "Hi Nashville," she returned.

The light cruiser began to explain herself, "Since my commander is busy working with Doctor Anzeel and I have some free time, I figured that now was as good a time as any to get this over with."

Cheshire briefly considered asking to have this chat be some other time on account of her fear. But was she foolish enough to want to be so scared twice if she asked to have this discussion some other time? But then she considered Nashville, a friend of hers. She didn't want Nashville to have to be so scared twice too. So, she gave her consent to have this chat. "Okay. Can we talk in my dormitory room?"

"I'd like that," agreed Nashville. "It's somewhere where nobody can listen right?"

"Only if there's no shouting."

"It works for me. So, should we get going?"

"Yeah."

The two cruisers walked away from the square and towards the dorms of the Royal Navy shipgirls. Neither woman spoke because they weren't in private nor did they have the heart for aimless small talk. They entered the building and Cheshire led Nashville to her personal room where she opened the door and flicked on the light. Normally, Nashville would be curious to see what Cheshire's taste in decoration would be, but circumstances dictated that any curiosity was secondary. Regardless, she was thoroughly unsurprised to see that Cheshire's interior decoration was awash with teal and themed around cats. It seemed that there was a common theme among shipgirls though. There isn't much space for materialism, so while Nashville had a few photos, Cheshire had a few stuffed animal cats. It was tidy likely because there wasn't much that needed to be cleaned up. There was a bed that was made with an assortment of pillows, a wardrobe, a dresser with an attached mirror, and a plain wooden chair in front of the dresser. There was also another door in the room that Nashville assumed led towards a personal head.

Seeking to be hospitable, Cheshire offered the choice of where to sit. "Do you want to sit in the chair or on the bed?"

"Can I sit next to you on the bed?"

"Uh huh," nodded Cheshire.

Nashville crossed the space from the door to the bed and sat down on it. Meanwhile, Cheshire entered herself and she closed the door behind her, ensuring that the door clicked closed. Wordlessly, she joined Nashville and she sat down beside her. They didn't speak immediately. In fact, minutes of silence passed by with both women consumed in their thoughts. Because neither of them wanted this, both of them struggled to muster up the courage to speak first. But eventually, the silence became stifling and Cheshire spoke first. "Whatever happens, can we agree to still be friends?"

Nashville sighed deeply and answered, "I want to say yes. But I don't know if that can be done."

Deep down, Cheshire knew that Nashville was speaking the truth. They were at an impasse. Maybe. Her palms were sweaty and she found herself wiping them on her skirt. "I understand," affirmed Cheshire. She continued, "It's so weird. I remember the commanding officer here before Commodore Smithers. He was so nice and so many loved him. He was in charge when I was launched and I learned what love was with him. He didn't do anything though. He didn't do anything with anyone. I was hurt when he left, but it's nowhere near what I'm scared of right now. I love Calico Jack. He's patient and kind and he always knows what to do. He makes me feel special."

Nashville offered the story of her own discovery of this thing called love. "I learned what love is with my commander. For a while, I thought something was wrong with me. I couldn't explain what that weird fluttering or floating feeling was when he would smile at me or call my name. You haven't known him as long as I have. When we met, he quaked in his shoes and he struggled to talk to me. I think how I look intimidated him. Now it feels like he's a new man, one that I would do anything for. I know how you feel. He makes me feel special too."

Cheshire continued giving voice to her memories with, "I remember how I felt in the Gilded Lion Pub that night. He had been one of the few to ever give me a chance and he was almost gone. And then I remember the feeling when we were in that scary place and Calico Jack appeared with help. I almost cried to see him—I was so happy."

Nashville repeated, "I know how you feel. I had learned that I loved him just earlier that day. Thus the trying to go alone."

"And then during the time he was at hospital, I really spent some time to think about what I thought of Calico Jack. I love him. More than anyone else. Are you the same?"

"Yeah."

"So…" trailed off Cheshire. She then picked back up with, "I've been thinking. What if there was a way for both of us to get him? What if we shared?"

This made the Unionist cringe hard. It was an action that was easily noticed by Cheshire, so trying to conceal her sudden spike of desperation, she began to elaborate further on her idea, "We don't even have to compete every day. What if we switched days?"

Sharply, Nashville pointed out a major flaw of this idea, "He won't be here forever, Cheshire. We already have our orders to set sail in two weeks."

This made Cheshire improvise and continue, "Or what if while he's in the UK, I have him, while you have him the rest of the time?"

Again, Nashville cut in sharply to reject, "Cheshire. I don't want to share him. You honestly believe that either you or I would be satisfied with sharing someone?"

Like a shot to the heart, those words were devastating. Cheshire grew more desperate and argued, "B-but, you haven't even tried it! How do you know it won't work?!"

"I know you love him. I love him too. And it's wrong for me to say that you can't. But you want to give up the freedom of doing stuff that's spontaneous or have him do something spontaneous to you? And that's another thing. I guarantee that he won't be willing to be shared."

Cheshire's desperation showed in the clenching of her fist and a sloppy, breathy sniffle. She shook her head emphatically—this was exactly what she didn't want to hear. She accused, "You don't know that! What if he is! The only way to know is to ask him."

Nashville was beginning to lose her own patience this early into the conversation. Her own fist clenched and she gritted her teeth. She had to calm down. She had to keep from burning this bridge. So, she returned to her old system. She counted to ten in her head albeit quickly. But she did it nonetheless, and she took a page out of her commander's list of tricks. She took a deep breath and let it out. She willed any amount of accusation or desperation out of her voice and she explained, "You don't know him like I do. For him, there are things that are right. And then there are things that are wrong. What you're suggesting is that we get him wrapped up in polygamy. He'd definitely find that wrong."

The cat-like cruiser's desperation waned, and sadness filled its void. She choked out her repeated statement, "But… You don't know that…"

"But I do. You haven't seen the lengths he'll go to for right and wrong."

"What lengths?" asked Cheshire.

Nashville sighed deeply and pondered if she should share some of the more private moments with Cheshire. She tried to skirt around the private moments by sharing what Cheshire has already seen. "You've seen how he came after us that night in London. That's pretty far if you ask me."

Cheshire was left unsatisfied and huffed dismissively. This persuaded Nashville to continue, "After it was all done and I was grilling Javelin about why she let him go, she said that he told her that the commanding officer hadn't given the order to abandon ship. He's loyal. Loyalty is kind of his thing. He won't be sharing romance because of how unfair it is. And that's not all. Let's say we do decide to share him. That's not even taking into account that he's a human being with feelings just like you or me. Do you like being forced to do things against your will?"

Cheshire began to cry. Burying her face in her hands didn't stem the flow from her eyes. Breaking her friend's heart reminded Nashville of her own. She joined along in mourning this tragedy. Cheshire had never really gotten a chance and that made Nashville feel scummy about going for the jugular right here and now. She finally learned what Cheshire already knew. All is fair in love and war. Then, Cheshire made it worse. She physically leaned into Nashville, the source of her misery, trying to seek companionship from a friend turned rival. Seeing this plea for togetherness, and wanting some of that feeling herself, Nashville draped her arm around the crying woman. She whispered, "I'm so sorry, Cheshire. But we have to face facts. It's me or you."

It seemed that there was finally some progress being made and Cheshire softly repeated, "It's me or it's you."

Hesitancy returned to Nashville and she considered how to proceed. She decided that maybe a more private moment was warranted to be shared. "There's more you should probably know about him. I remember the look on his face when he almost shot me after I charged into the men's head. He was… haunted. It broke my heart. But it was so much worse than having almost just shot me. The first night he was out of the hospital he had a nightmare of the pub where he murdered those four men and me while enjoying it. He went for a walk around my hull and threw up over the railings. Thank God I found him before anything more serious happened. Then I forced him to tell me what was going on and he said that he was scared of losing himself. He's scared of becoming that murderer. I promised that I'd help him keep that from ever happening. We've been through a lot, he and I. I know that I need him. But what if he needs me too? What if he's crossed the point of no return and he can't rely on just anyone anymore?"

Cheshire didn't immediately respond. It was exactly what she had feared that night as she, Nashville, Belfast, and Sheffield were walking to that Herald hideout. What if Calico Jack has to go through things that are so horrible that he becomes someone she won't love anymore? It looked like that was a real possibility if he himself was so scared of it. The cat-like cruiser had once heard that while sticks and stones may break one's bones, words will never harm them. What a lie that was. Words are armor piercing. Nashville's final words sank deep into the woman's mind and heart and she hated it. She wished desperately that it wouldn't, that she could block her ears and forget what has been said. Because it was true. Cheshire loved him so much that she was willing to do what she thought would be best for him. Still in Nashville's embrace, her tears grew in fury into a choking sob as she mourned her misfortune of having been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been her in Nashville's place in a different reality. But that didn't change the fact that she was a prisoner of this reality.

Nashville was silent during this degradation of Cheshire's state. She dared not try to say anything further in fears of making things worse. But that didn't stop her from keeping her arm around Cheshire. Her heart went out to Cheshire and she understood that the only reason she can get her way is because of all that has been said and done between her and her commander. Any less, and she might have had to go through with what Cheshire proposed. She also saw a part of herself in the sobbing woman. Being alone was cause for mourning.

Words managed to force their way through Cheshire's defeated tears. "Y-y-you're right. H-he needs you. I'll stay here… And try to forget."

It seemed that was the conclusion of this discussion. Nashville did her best to wipe her tears and she finally retracted her arm from the crying woman's shoulders. She stood from the bed and said, "Thanks for talking. But I think I should be on my way." Cheshire didn't respond, so Nashville went for the door to leave. Her hand had touched the doorknob when something else came to mind. She released the knob and turned around to genuinely offer, "I still want to be your friend. But it's up to you if we still are." She resumed her exit and as she turned the knob to open the door, she said, "See ya later, Cheshire." Having said all that there was to say, she opened the door and left. She made sure it closed behind her.

XXXXXXXX

For the rest of the morning, Nashville tried her hardest to finally incorporate her medic bag into her rigging. She was unsuccessful. So, after lunch with Las Vegas and Doctor Anzeel she went on the hunt for other shipgirls that might be able to help explain things to her, focusing on those that she knew had personal weapons as part of their riggings. Sirius proved to be unskilled at explanations. Duke of York was difficult to understand and Javelin, try as she might, wasn't the best teacher because she herself didn't much understand what she was doing. "I just feel," is what she had said. But then she recommended another shipgirl that Nashville had forgotten: Prince of Wales. But it was too late to seek her out and Nashville returned to her hull for the night.

On the second day, Doctor Anzeel began to show Nashville how to ride a motorcycle. During an extended lunch time, Nashville got a feel for the power in the two-wheeled vehicle as it screamed down streets in Plymouth. It had been Nashville's first time in the town attached to Devonport. She enjoyed it immensely but she still wished that the bike had been big enough to take Las Vegas along with her and Anzeel. But come the afternoon, Nashville tracked down Prince of Wales and explained the situation to her. The battleship had been well prepared for Nashville's question and had dedicated thought to the problem after being warned by Duke of York. They got to work trying to figure out how to integrate the medic bag into Nashville's rigging. They were unsuccessful that day, but Prince of Wales invited Nashville to return the next day.

The third day proceeded much like the day before. She had motorcycle lessons with Anzeel and attempted to add the medic bag to her rigging with Prince of Wales's help. There was still no success with Prince of Wales, but the knight was persistent and didn't allow Nashville to grow discouraged. There was no word from Cheshire and when Nashville talked with her commander about the week's progress, Nashville got the impression that he and Anzeel were getting closer to figuring out the Quick Finisher Algorithm for Charybdis.

The fourth day only had a slight variation from the day before. But Las Vegas shared something pertinent to the Iris with Nashville. He'd been reading up on Iris culture on the internet and found that it's customary for guests to give a gift to the host. So, he gave her the task of finding and buying something while in the town with Anzeel. It wasn't a big issue, so Nashville noted it down and started keeping her eyes open for something to get the Iris when they meet for dinner in a two days. What was a big issue was something else that Anzeel herself talked about briefly while they were eating lunch. There had been a growing push of several of the world's governments to look into something called, "Type II Riggings." The theoretical science went over Nashville's head, but what she did understand was that it allowed for certain shipgirls to get powered up in more substantial ways than being retrofitted. It would be a whole new hull with a whole new rigging but would be bestowed to an already existing shipgirl. But before too many questions could be asked, the doctor herself cut it off. As incredible as it would be to have Las Vegas's help to figure out how the presently stalled program, the Quick Finishers were still the priority.

The fifth day of the week came and both Unionists had success at nearly the same time. In a flash of blue wisdom cubes, Nashville broke down the medic bag and she was able to summon it with the same ease as her cestus. And when she had arrived to her hull to share the news with her commander, he met her with a big smile on his face. He and Anzeel had beat the clock and finished the quick launch algorithm for Charybdis's launch ahead of Admiral Arthur getting the launch facility ready. The rest of Nashville's day was with Anzeel. As much as she wanted to celebrate their respective successes with her commander, she still hadn't gotten the doctor's approval for riding a motorcycle.

On the morning of the sixth day after a final ride that involved buying a gift of pastries from a local bakery for the Iris, Nashville got Anzeel's seal of approval for driving a motorcycle, and the doctor personally shared that fact with her commander. It was proof enough for him. In the early afternoon, Grayson Roscoe called. Charybdis's launch was to commence at 1000 the next morning. But evening rolled around and finally, Las Vegas and Nashville left her hull to trek for Richelieu's. They finally would get to meet the Iris.

XXXXXXXX

The fact of the matter is that Nashville knew very little about the Iris. She knew about Cherbourg and a few of the stories that her sailors shared of the port city. But that was just a short span in 1938. Therefore, she felt it wise to ask her commander what he knew about the Iris so that they could compare notes. Even that plan wasn't foolproof however. Las Vegas was no expert either but he'd done more research than her. Still walking for Richelieu's hull, she asked, "Is there anything helpful that you know about the Iris?"

They duo had been walking some distance, but there would still be time for a bit of conversation. He answered, "Okay. First, a disclaimer. All this information is from the internet so our results may vary. But it's to my understanding that the Iris are very defensive about their language and their culture. It's worth keeping in mind that following the last war with so many foreigners being trapped in the Orthodoxy, there's a possibility that the Iris feel like their cultural identity is being threatened. So, let's be careful talking about those topics. There's also apparently a centuries-long tradition attached to intellectualism, reasoning, and debating, so don't be surprised to get roped into any arguments. However, I feel like it behooves us to avoid talking about it ultimately being their fault if they buy Coca-Cola or tickets to a Hollywood produced movie even while we're preached to about the virtues of Iris culture. I expect we'll be welcomed, but we'll have to make gestures to show that we're cool before they really open up with us. If it comes down to it, I was warned that friendship is a very serious affair with the Iris. If they consider us friends, and we aren't perceived as keeping up our end of the friendship, this will be construed as betrayal. They also seem to have a thing against casual smiling. Politeness is paramount and let's not be surprised if we get corrected about some obscure rule of etiquette that we know nothing about. Finally, I know it's too late to get started, but it would be a good idea to get started learning to speak Iris. Oh, and Nashville."

"Yeah?"

"They'll have wine. But getting drunk at an event like we're going to is taboo."

"Okay," answered Nashville with a surprisingly serious tone. But then she smiled when an opportunity to tease came to her mind. "Soooooo…" she drawled.

"So, what?"

She prodded, "Are you keeping anything in mind especially for yourself?"

"I talk too much. Apparently on the whole, the Iris aren't very impressed with being long winded for no reason."

"Yikes. Good luck with that Las Vegas. Looks like you'll have to save those speeches for someone else. Did you read how humor works with these people? I know that you like to crack a joke to get someone to smile."

"They prize wit more than irony or slapstick. So, if something clever comes to your mind, then share it."

"You're going to regret saying that," forewarned Nashville teasingly. But then she instantly retracted, "Nah, just kidding. I'd rather stay cool with you than break the ice with anyone else."

"Thanks Nash. I knew that I could trust you."

"Come here you," playfully ordered the woman. And she took her commander in a sideways hug because she had no qualms about anyone seeing it. Not that it mattered much. They were alone. "Whoda thunk we'd be like peas in a pod? Not me. But I'm mighty glad that we are."

"Same," he concurred.

The hug would break only a few moments later and the duo would continue on their walk towards Richelieu's hull. Fortunately for them, Richelieu was easy to identify because her main battery was arrayed ahead of her superstructure along with a flag of the Iris Orthodoxy fluttering on her mast. Approaching the Iris battleship's gangway, the duo saw two figures who were waiting at the bottom. One was L'Opiniâtre. And the other was a girl with odd tastes in accessories.

L'Opiniâtre waited for the duo to approach before offering her welcome. "I knew you would come about now, Commander Nemo." To dispel the quizzical looks from both Unionists, she suddenly elaborated, "Hm? Oh, well… I made that prediction based on well… A guess."

"Good guess then," congratulated the officer. "Still, it's nice to see you again." And then his attention shifted towards the other strangely accessorized girl beside L'Opiniâtre.

This action did not go unnoticed by L'Opiniâtre and she introduced her companion. "This is Maillé Brézé," she stated levelly.

But that levelness was instantly lost when Maillé Brézé picked up where L'Opiniâtre left off. In a childish sing-song tone, she loudly corrected, "That's Maillé Brézé, Templar Knight of the Iris Orthodoxy!" But then directed towards the Unionist duo, she further declared, "Thou there, thou may now sleep soundly knowing I'll defend thy lanes!"

"Nice to meet you?" asked Nashville. She really didn't know how to respond to that.

It would take another few moments for Nemo to reply because he was busy inspecting this new girl. Perched atop her head was some sort of headdress that looked a bit like Cheshire's cat ears. However these were too large to be cat ears and too pointy to be rabbit ears. Maybe they were supposed to be a fox's ears? Or maybe he's thinking too hard and they're there because they either look cool or add some much needed height onto the stature of the slightly built girl? He didn't know. But what he did know is that this girl favored a color pallet of blue, white, and gold. Most of her hair and her one visible eye were blue. So was the trimming of her dress's edges. But she had a large bang of white hair obscuring her other eye and most of her dress was white, but with gold accents onto it. Perhaps most notable was that she had on armor in places. There were metallic strips of matte gold metal on her dress itself and then she had dedicated plates of armor that covered her hips, her forearms, and her lower legs. But above all, thank God her name wasn't so hard to pronounce.

Finally, the man spoke. "Maillé Brézé, right?"

"That's right!" she confirmed.

Sweet. Looks like his pronunciation worked. Somewhat curious, he asked, "I've heard the Templar Knights being mentioned before. But if you don't mind me asking, what do they do?"

In reality, he was able to take a pretty good guess about what it is the Templar Knights do. They're probably just like the Knights of the Round Table but Iris. So, they'll defend the land and the people of the Iris Orthodoxy. But he was asking this as a way to try and endear himself to Maillé Brézé. It worked, and the young girl who appeared to be ten or eleven years old lit up joyfully with a smile spreading itself across her features. But she quickly stopped the smile and forced herself to grow dead serious. As officially as poorly concealed elation allowed, she explained, "The Templar Knights are sworn to protect the Iris Orthodoxy and her people! Because all of us are shipgirls in the navy, we also stand guard over the sea and those who sail upon it!"

It looks like his guess was right on the money. He answered, "Alright. Thanks for answering that. But who leads this order of knights?"

"The Cardinal does!"

That was unsurprising as well. But he held nothing against it. Assuming that these Templar Knights take inspiration from the Knight's Templar of the Middle Ages, this means that they don't swear allegiance to a monarch, but to a faith. It's to be expected that these women look to Richelieu, a cardinal, to lead the order. "That's understandable."

"Yeah it's a great honor!" concluded Maillé Brézé while puffing her chest out and enjoying a look of smug satisfaction on her face. He glanced to the side towards L'Opiniâtre and she made a so-so gesture. That meant that it must not be a very exclusive group. At least not among the shipgirls of the Iris Navy.

L'Opiniâtre dropped her gesture and finally invited, "The cardinal would like to invite you both aboard. We'll escort you both to where we will be meeting and dining."

Nemo acknowledged her by inviting her to lead the way.

Without further ado, the four made their way up the gangway onto Richelieu's hull. They crossed a short distance on the main deck and then they entered into an open hatch. They proceeded down a few passageways and down a ladder. Finally, they stopped at a hatch and the two Iris girls turned around. "We have arrived," L'Opiniâtre notified. She then paused as if to give the Unionists a chance to back out.

It was a strange gesture, but he saw no need to leave. Regardless, he looked towards Nashville and she nodded in his direction. He said, "We're ready."

"Great! Here we go!" sang out Maillé Brézé. She then made to push open the hatch and led the foreigners inside.

The hatch opened up into what must have been a mess hall at some point. Or maybe it was as opulent as it always had been. Rather than have walls of bare metal, they had been lined with fine-grained wood and decorated with photos and paintings of Iris scenes. It was also notable that there was a crucifix displayed prominently as well as a flag of the Orthodoxy. There were several round tables in the hall that were big enough to fit a dozen people at each. All of them had white table cloths but only one of them was inhabited. All six people stood from where they had been sitting to greet their guests. Vice Admiral Fabre, Richelieu, Saint Louis, and Surcouf were recognized. That just left two shipgirls who were not known to the Unionists.

Vice Admiral Fabre spoke first to offer welcome to the newcomers. "Welcome aboard, Commander and Nashville. Thank you for joining us this evening."

Nemo answered, "Thank you for inviting us. We are both very interested in getting to know the people we're fighting alongside."

The group that had been around the table stepped forward to better greet the Unionists. Handshakes were exchanged between each person and Nashville made sure to pass the acquired gift of pastries to Fabre on account of him being the host. He seemed surprised to be receiving one. He explained that while giving a gift to the host is indeed customary in the Iris Orthodoxy, he hadn't expected the Unionists to follow through. This surprise made the Union duo nodded subtly to each other in lieu of a high five. It was a good impression that they just gave. But moving down the group of Iris, Nemo finally came upon the last two of the Iris fleet that he didn't recognize.

The first girl was distinct by being the first person that Nemo had ever met that wore a monocle. If he had to take a guess, he'd say that this girl appeared to be in her early teens. But aside from that, she had on a skintight suit that was white around her torso but then turned black around her legs. On the wide spectrum among shipgirls and modesty, this girl didn't show much skin—really only keeping her shoulders and parts of her thighs visible. To complete the ensemble, she had a large black and gold coat. The only real splash of color on the whole girl was her light purple hair and similarly colored eyes. She introduced herself by saying, "My name is Béarn, I am the Iris Orthodoxy's first aircraft carrier, converted from the unfinished 5th Normandie-class dreadnought."

He exchanged pleasantries with Béarn and finally moved onto meeting the last Iris girl. Much like Illustrious, this girl favored a white dress. However unlike the buxom aircraft carrier, this woman's dress had smatterings of radiant gold with similarly shining blonde hair tied into a bun and she wasn't so insanely curvy. A common thing it seemed among the Iris Orthodoxy's shipgirls is their tendency to wear plate armor in places. This one did, having her feet, lower legs, hips, hands, and forearms all encased in glistening metal. Like with Béarn, it was a bit of an event giving this girl a handshake, but when her hand met the man's red gloved one, she said, "If you are familiar with the name I have been entrusted with, then you should also understand my noble calling. Jeanne d'Arc of Iris Orthodoxy is at your service."

Just like he had with Béarn, he said some cookie-cutter "nice to meet you" pleasantry with the woman and he went down the line. Surcouf's greeting had been brief. It was apparent that she wasn't interested in being there. Finally, he got to Saint Louis. He knew her name, but he hadn't been able to speak at all with her. When their hands grasped each other's for the greeting handshake, a thought came to his mind. When shipgirls had introduced themselves, he had noted that the simple, "Hello, my name is so-and-so," or something like that is remarkably rare. Oftentimes there were more elaborate things that either gave a bit of the shipgirl's history or became dramatic. What would Saint Louis's introduction be?

She said, "Because ruination befell my homeland, I was returned to nothingness before I was born. As I am now, I am but an illusion, a manifestation of an ideal. I am Saint Louis, brought to your side by God's will."

That answered the man's question. Saint Louis leaned dramatic when it came to her introduction. Furthermore, Saint Louis' voice was close to the opposite of Richelieu's. The cardinal's accent was stereotypical in a charming, exotic way and her voice was smooth. Saint Louis didn't have nearly as much grace with her relatively gruff tone and her speech revealed that Iris accents don't always sound so great. But he had another question form while he was listening. "Are you a Priority Research shipgirl?"

"Yes," she stated plainly.

"Interesting," he noted. "I look forward to seeing you in action."

It seemed that Saint Louis wasn't one that was given to prideful displays, so rather than inflating with ego or doing something like puffing out her chest, she instead gave an acknowledging nod and that was that.

As Nashville came down the line greeting different people, she had a different experience. She tried to limit the smiling that she was wont to do while meeting new people. She was successful, or so she thought. But rather than simply greeting people, she found herself working in extra bits. A thanks for Richelieu's help earlier that week. Another apology to Surcouf for how rough she had been with the girl when collided with her commander. And finally, Nashville had mixed feelings with Saint Louis. Her sister had the same name, just said with a different accent. She wondered if St. Louis would be like Saint Louis at all.

Introductions completed, the group migrated back to the table and everyone took seats. Being the guests saw that the two Unionists were seated nearby Fabre and Richelieu. The event began in earnest with some light chatter that was meant to give more complete introductions on the part of the two foreigners. This would be the basic information like where Nemo was from or what Nashville did during World War II. Fortunately, the duo were able to get the basics of similar information from Fabre and his fleet. But soon enough, the first food of the evening entered into the mess hall. What was interesting wasn't so much the food, but the creatures that were doing the serving. They were the size of manjuu, but they were furry and not nearly as rotund. Their heads were very obviously those of cats. It was notable as well that while manjuu generally favored nudity sans headgear and maybe the occasional accessory, these feline workers all came fully dressed in appropriate attire for waiting a table.

"They look like Palicoes from Monster Hunter," proclaimed the commander silently to himself.

"Who are they?" asked Nashville much louder so that she could be heard by someone else at the table.

"They are meowfficers," explained Fabre. "Created in much the same way as manjuu were, they can do many of the same roles and a few more. We've found them to be more skilled than manjuu in technical positions albeit not so capable at menial tasks."

When it came to the manjuu, the man with no name was more than willing to let them be and allow them to go about their tasks. But for some reason, now he found himself wondering about slave labor. Maybe he should try and help out the manjuu and meowfficers in addition to the shipgirls. Sure. Why not? His mind rapidly changed course however, and he felt an acute desire to pet one of these meowfficers. Nashville's "Awwwww" from beside him showed that she wanted the same thing.

The duo abstained however as the meowfficers served the first course of the meal. Wine was also poured alongside an appropriate substitute for Nemo and there was a toast. Though word must have spread that he doesn't drink, he still got a few strange looks as reward for abstinence. When Jeanne d'Arc asked him why he didn't drink, he told her the truth. He'd made a promise that he wouldn't, so he doesn't. That answer was good enough for those around the table given the weight of their own oaths and the matter died without fanfare.

It wasn't until the second course got started the Richelieu started to speak of more serious matters. She began with, "I must confess Commander Nemo. Queen Elizabeth has spoken of you highly as if you were one of her own. But at the same time, she is cautious in your presence. There are not many that are like this in her eyes. Why is this the case?"

For some odd reason, Nemo immediately thought about a popular movie in the Eagle Union called Dirty Harry. In the movie, Harry Callaghan, a grizzled police officer, takes on the jobs that nobody wants to using the methods that nobody else is willing to use to track down and best a deranged serial killer in 1970's San Francisco. That's not to say that Nemo was an anti-hero, a cop with a gigantic pistol and a chip on his shoulder, or the guy who defaults to the most extreme method possible. But when it came down to getting this position or not he was foolhardy enough to volunteer. And then to further the idiocy, he was now committed to the idea that he's somehow going to take on a cult of reality benders. The man surmised of Queen Elizabeth, "When she's asked if the ends justify the means, I think that she reluctantly says 'yes.' I think that I'm an extreme mean to an end in her eyes."

She contradicted, "I believe that is oversimplifying her. Queen Elizabeth has lines that she will not cross. But what of you, Commander Nemo? Do you think that the ends justify the means?"

The man felt next to no desire to regale the cardinal with an explanation of the moral code that he came up with that night with Nashville after he had that horrible nightmare. Talk, injure, kill. It was simple, but he didn't want to risk giving too much context to how that code came to his mind. So, he answered more vaguely with, "I like to consider myself an intellectual. At times committing evil is logical and arguably the best option. However, I've still resolved to be good."

Las Vegas was the type that often spent moments dedicated to self reflection. Even if the successive moment only lasted a fraction of a second, it was long enough to deliver unwanted results. As much as he wanted to lie to himself and say he would be perfect and stay on the straight and narrow, he saw through that. He'd already learned that if push came to shove and killing came to killing he would be aiming for the heart. That fact sickened him but he reserved greater fear for something corollary to that. If he gets too used to killing then he might end up killing the good in himself thus making him the father of all hypocrites and making anything won in exchange worthless in his eyes.

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

By focusing on this fear, his mind drew a blank and he unconsciously began to focus on the possibility of this hypocrisy becoming his. It horrified him and he found himself unable to divert his attention from the thought. Try as he might, it was like the steering wheel of a car had been ripped from his grasp and he was no longer in control. Hypocrite… Murderer… Thoughts like these drowned out reason and hope and he was sinking. Oh God. Was it always this hard to breathe?

Richelieu was ignorant that anything was amiss for just a moment. But then she saw the Commander take on a peculiar look on his face. He eyes weren't focusing on anything. She was about to ask if there was anything wrong but Nemo's companion, Nashville, leapt into action. She planted a firm buddy-buddy pat on her commander's shoulder and loudly added, "Yeah. We've talked about it and we agree that we won't ever take anything too far." She had spoken a bit too loudly given the occasion and the close quarters, but Nashville was perfectly aware of what she was doing. Suddenly diverting attention from her commander to her allowed him to gasp and lightly jump in his seat without having everyone watching intently. She was perfectly aware of what was going on in her commander's mind. She knew him well enough to see when she had to save him from himself.

It worked. He returned to reality. In a just a second, he was able to remember to breathe normally. Thank God he had Nashville with him. That could have gone a lot worse.

Even though Nashville's attempt to back up her commander were admirable, they weren't quite good enough to completely assuage suspicion that something had just happened. Richelieu hesitated to respond and none of the other Iris shipgirls were keen to talk out of turn. That left Vice Admiral Fabre. The experienced sailor had dealt with young men in combat and out of combat before. He could tell precisely what just happened—a developing panic attack. Needless to say, this fact concerned Fabre deeply. Not just for the well being of the Unionist, but also for Nashville and anyone else that may lead him into battle. It was a contradiction. From what the admiral had heard, Nemo was skilled in battle if the appraisal from Queen Elizabeth is to be trusted. Furthermore, he was trusted by both Supreme Commander Roscoe and Axis Chairwoman Hara. Then Fabre saw what just happened. Nevertheless, the sailor couldn't help but like the Unionist. He reminded him of himself when he was a younger man. So idealistic and full of energy; eager to accomplish the task at hand and do a good job while doing it. But there were cracks beginning to form in the codebreaker.

Fabre broke the silence that had only lasted a moment and sagely offered, "Your resolution is admirable. However, I advise that you both prepare yourselves. Difficulty awaits. You need to be ready to meet it."

"Difficulty awaits us all," added on Richelieu. "We must continually endeavor to better ourselves in all aspects."

Agreement arose around the table and the night continued in earnest. Food came and was eaten. Drinks were poured and the averted crisis was swept under the rug. Later that evening as the foreigners and their hosts gradually learned more of each other's respective personalities and tastes, conversation was able to turn more open. It got open enough that Nashville was brave enough to press her luck on a potentially sensitive topic. To the assembled group, she remarked, "If we win in the next campaign, I think that an awful lot of the folks back home are going to be mighty excited to finally get all of the people that were left behind in the Orthodoxy back home."

"She really is right," added on her commander. "It's hung over a lot of people back in the Union for these past few years. We stick up for our own. It's a cultural thing. But even then, there's been a lot of back and forth about trying to get them back home despite the risks of sailing on or flying over Siren controlled sea. It's become a major political issue about what to do. Now, as I had pointed out earlier, really only rumors or propaganda about the Iris Orthodoxy gets as far as the Eagle Union these days, so I'm curious. Is dealing with these stranded servicemen and women as hotly contested in the Orthodoxy as in the Union?"

There was no immediate response to that question. L'Opiniâtre, Maillé Brézé, and Surcouf looked towards each other awkwardly, not feeling qualified to give their opinions. Saint Louis and Béarn directed their gaze to Richelieu, who exchanged a glance with Vice Admiral Fabre. She requested, "Amiral, may I answer?"

"You may," he consented. He felt that Richelieu was kind hearted enough to explain the situation more civilly than he could.

Now with the authority to answer for the group, she explained, "Yes. I don't know how fierce the debates are in the Eagle Union, but I struggle to imagine them being more heated than in the Orthodoxy. We want these people returned to their homes because despite our wishes, they are not Iris. They are not integrating and many of my countrymen see them as parasites despite their critical role in helping to rebuild our home after the war. Many have lost sons, brothers, and fathers in the war and seeing left behind foreigners seemingly encroach on our way of life have made many angry. Anger leads to anger and the situation is slowly deteriorating. There have been calls for such terrible treatments such as expulsion or rounding them up and putting them in labor camps. Relations between the Iris Orthodoxy and the Eagle Union are poor even though we are still officially allies. Time is of the essence. You want them back. We want to give them to you."

The Union duo shared a look at each other. Nashville nodded deeply and Las Vegas's features were conquered by determination. Their eyes returned to the Iris around the table and the commander stated, "No debating is required. We agree wholeheartedly. Let's get those people home."

Resounding accord was the reply. All that waited them was actually putting words into action. But first thing's first. Charybdis needed to be launched the following morning. So, in the interest of not dragging proceedings too far into the night before an important event, the foreigners left not long after. The most poignant of the farewells was from Fabre. He bade them to take care of themselves and of each other because he still remembered Nemo's near episode. But he said nothing directly about it because he could see that he was in the caring hands of his friend and companion. It was too early to tell. And he had been impressed by the young man's determination. Perhaps this duo of Unionists would actually succeed when so many others hadn't? Time would be the judge.

Back aboard Nashville's hull, the woman held the man she loved in her embrace just a tad tighter and longer than usual. He asked her if something was wrong.

"Yes. I'm worried about you. I almost lost you for a second tonight. How are you doing? Any new nightmares at all?"

Las Vegas was touched by the question. He knew that Nashville was concerned for his well-being, but there was an added intensity to the earnestness of his friend's question. So, he debated within himself. A significant part of him was tempted to lie and betray her trust if it meant not worrying her. But at the same time, she was already worried. And he'd learned that in his most vulnerable moments, he can't lie to her. Only silence left his mouth as he tried to search for words and a decision. A past him would have lied, but this time he spoke truthfully in a soft tone, "I can ignore it a lot of the time. No new nightmares but I don't dream like I used to. Nor do I sleep like I used to. But nothing like what almost happened tonight has happened before. Notwithstanding that night on the Thames."

"I'm scared for you," she confessed.

Tears came to his eyes. He didn't want to have her be scared on his account. He replied, "I'm so sorry. I wish I wasn't doing this to you. It's unfair. I feel like I should be the put-together one. The one to say that everything's gonna be alright… The leader. I…"

"Stop," interrupted Nashville. "Just stop." She took in a ragged breath and he learned that she was crying too. She somberly continued, "Don't you ever apologize for something like that ever again. We keep saying it and we never learn it! We're together in this… We share the burden. Whatever that may be."

For a few seconds, they simply carried on their embrace. Finally, he spoke, "Thanks, Nash. Thanks for saving me."

"You're worth it."

Hey there. It's been a while. So, I ought to give an explanation for what I've been up to. These past few months have been a time of change in my personal life—and most of them good changes. I got a job that I love, working in the field that I've wanted to work in for my whole life. I am not exaggerating. I've gotten the dream job. I moved to a new city in a new state under nearly ideal situations. I feel like I'm pretty well settled into this new stage of my life and now's the time to start dedicating more time to writing this story. The only complaints I have are minor nitpicks but they are few and far between. As you can probably tell through how I've written Las Vegas, I am a man of faith. I am a blessed man. And I consider all of you to be part of that. Thank you.

But I should also apologize. I've been sitting on this chapter in a nearly completed state for the past three months. Only over this past week have I really been dedicating time to hammering things down and getting it out the door. I hope that you've enjoyed what you read and let me tell you, I am extremely excited to show how Charybdis's launch will go in the next chapter. Oh and by the way, this isn't the last we'll see of Cheshire so please don't worry. But anyway, please send me your thoughts on this chapter. I read all your comments and I value your feedback. Speaking of comments and feedback, there's some reviews that I need to respond to.

Hello Cemalidor. You're welcome for that fresh chapter. Now here's another one. I hope you like it. When I think of Las Vegas's newfound supercharged affinity, I can't help but think of the classic line from Spider-Man. "With great power comes great responsibility." This attribute that he now has will be both a blessing and a curse. It also most certainly will provide me with the ability to make things grow gradually more fantastical as things go on. I'm hoping to use the affinity to explain a few lore points of Azur Lane and I'm also expecting to use it as a way to allow Las Vegas to stand against the Heralds of the Deep and Siren bigwigs on a bit more of an even basis. I'm trying my hardest to not do anything to make Las Vegas OP. That's just not interesting anymore. But only time will tell how successful I am at that. I'm happy that you agree with me about using Hood for the diplomat. I know that I've used her a lot in this past arc, but even if I hadn't, I still think that she's the most sensible choice for a matter as delicate as being diplomatic to the Iron Blood. I'm thinking Las Vegas's names will be off of official records.

Hey there, EnJewel3. That's an interesting thought. Do something like a fighting game character. Now I'm envisioning Las Vegas wrecking a fool with a hadouken or a kamehameha. Will that happen? Probably not, but it's fun to think about. Anzeel is an interesting character for me. When I see her appear in the event stories in-game, she feels like she's another fan of Azur Lane who is there with you, the commander, for the ride. She's a character that works intuitively for me. She's Las Vegas but with a lot less inhibition. Think of it this way, Operation Rumor Mill is steadily approaching 500,000 words. That's a lot of time and effort on my part. It's in my best interest to give good and memorable villains. Ones who are threatening and post a serious challenge to the heroes. I'm still not entirely decided on when or how, but I intend to give the Heralds a win at some point if for no other reason that to prove a point. For me, there's a few girls in Azur Lane that are really blurry when I ask myself, "If I met this girl in real life, would she look legal or not?" For me, U-47 is one of those that are blurry for that answer. But I'll tell you right now, I don't plan on U-47 becoming a romantic rival to Nashville. I'm hoping to be a bit more exploratory in the relationship between her and Las Vegas. Nashville is a traditional lover. Javelin has had an almost fatherly approach to her relationship with Las Vegas. I just regret that I haven't been able to give as much time to showing that as I would have liked to. I'm hoping to do something that's either mentor-like or perhaps brother-sister with U-47. We'll just have to wait and see how that turns out. I plan for someone else to be Nashville's romantic rival among the Iron Blood. Who? I'll keep that to myself for now. Somehow I doubt it, but I hope that my timing with this chapter release is as good as past chapters' timings.

Greetings, Touhoufanatic. The main objective in selecting the group of Iron Blood shipgirls that I did was to give a basic introduction to the faction as a whole. The group has more or less the breadth of personalities that the Kriegsmarine has to offer. As of right now, I'm bouncing back and forth for how I handle Graf Zeppelin's interactions with Las Vegas. The best I can offer is that I'll do my best.

It's good to see you, xX-6throwaway9-Xx. Ouch. I just cringed hard. Sorry about that. You complement my upload frequency and then I drop off the radar for a while. I don't expect that I'll be uploading as frequently as I was for a few months last year seeing as how I now have a full-time job. But I definitely don't plan on there being months between chapters. I do have the goal of writing "The End" by December 31, 2029. I'm not entirely sure if this goal is realistic or not, but it feels like a good aiming point to shoot for. Thank you for your kind words about this story. I've put a lot of time and effort into making it what it is. And I hope that this chapter can make your day better. I've been looking forward to the Iron Blood being introduced into Operation Rumor Mill for a long time now. What happened as I was writing this past arc in the UK is that I fell in love with the Royal Navy faction. I'm hoping the same thing happens as I'm writing the Iron Blood and every other faction. And you are correct. U-47 isn't much of a concern to Nashville. I don't plan for the u-boat to be a romantic rival. But as for Mainz and coffee, I'm not sure how far I'll take that. How soon is soon? I hope it's not too soon. I don't stretch out the romantic tension to play with people. I'm writing it at a pace that makes sense to me. They have only known each other for a few months now after all. I hope I can keep you until that long awaited day of the mutual, "I love you," is exchanged in the future. Ugh… We'll get there faster if I can upload faster. Leave this to me. I got it.

Oh hi, HouseofErebus. I think I've already discussed those points to you through a PM but I just want to relive Nashville posterior. Ahh. What a fine derriere it is. I wish that I could show everyone the picture in my head. But alas, my artistic ability is dedicated to writing. I can't draw to save my life. When it comes to ass-men and tit-men, I'm what you would call, "greedy." I think of what Palpatine said to Anakin in Star Wars 3. "If one is to understand the great mystery, one must study all its aspects."

What's up, Zander22122? I'm hoping to bang out more chapters. I don't know how you do it, but you always say the right stuff that I'm hoping to hear. I've spent a lot of time wondering how shipgirls are launched and I'm really hoping to make Charybdis's launch a bit event. And I'm overjoyed to hear that you like how the fanservice was handled. And yes, I do intend for the Iron Blood to prove themselves to the girls of Azur Lane. I don't need them to become buddy-buddy, but I'm planning for there to be some more mutual respect after the coming chapters. It's too bad that you're not interested in Bloodborne. But luckily for us, it's alright to have an opinion.

Hello there, Bell Chou'un. You have quite a bit to say, so let's get on with this shall we? Absolutely Shinano is going to have a part. Because I'm horribly indecisive when it comes to the question of best girl (that's why I made an OC shipgirl for this story) I can't say that Shinano is my favorite. But I really like her and feel like she can add to the story. I have to say that I really respect your opinions and I respect that you're willing to point out points that you're not a fan of. I read them and wonder how I can improve. Nevertheless, thank you so much for your appraisal of this story. I'm not perfect so my product isn't perfect. But I'm passionate for the craft of storytelling so I'm hoping that can make up for what I lack. I've put a lot of effort in making battles easy to follow and visualize. I'm glad you think that's working. Shinano better looking than Nashville? I say this next line jokingly. "Yeah, well, that's like… your opinion man." But seriously, I wish I could draw. I wish I was a rich man that could commission a talented artist to draw Nashville as I envision her. But I'm not, so I guess we'll just have to live with this difference in opinion. Then again, having Nashville grow envious of someone else's beauty is totally an option. I'm going to have to go thinking on that. Aye the French. I also cannot with their names. I learned Spanish in school not French so the pronunciation of some of their names are totally over my head. Fair enough about Prince of Wales and Hood. But I had the idea with the Edith Cavell memorial and Hood for a long time so I just had to do it or I would have regretted not doing it. In the defense of my protagonist, I will point out that he is unexperienced with women. Completely. No experience with romance. I don't think he's being unrealistic. And even then, I'm deliberately keeping the pace of their romance slow because the pace of the rest of the story is slow. They have only known each other for a few months now so it's not like it's that long of a time. It just feels like a long time because I can't release chapters in real time. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm getting the impression that the Iron Blood is your favorite faction. Something that happened to me with the Royal Navy is that I fell in love with them as I was writing them. I'm hoping for the same to happen with the Iron Blood. I'm happy to hear that you found the fanservice enjoyable to read. But then for what Nashville got up to afterwards, I think it's pretty clear what she did. I've thought long and hard about how I want to handle sexual content in the story. I've decided that I don't want to write smut. I'll fade to black or keep things vague, but I'm not going to go into detail about those proceedings. I might describe topless Nashville, but I'm not going to go much further. Thank you for the well wishes. Things have been great on my end of things. I hope you're doing well too.

It's been too long Dario6595. Thanks so much for saying that stuff. With the breaks that I end up taking it's of some concern to me that I lose my touch. I hope that this present chapter is up to snuff. Anzeel and Aoste are good characters that I feel like can really add to the story so I'm planning on giving them significant roles going forward. I am also excited for the Kriegsmarine to arrive. But then you touch on the part of my story that I'm proudest of. I love Nashville to the moon and back. Hearing you say that about her makes me very happy.

It's nice to chat with you again, BoatBoy. I like the new name. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope you like this one too. Don't worry about taking long to make a comment. Heaven knows I take a while to post chapters sometimes so I'm not in a position to criticize. The upcoming operation and launch will be eventful to say the least. I've been doing great. I hope you've been doing well too.

Whelp. That's all I got for now. Thank you for reading and I'll see you again soon. Take care friends. If you're having a bad day, I hope it gets better and if you're having a good day, I hope it gets even better.