Chapter 1

Noah Dallimore wrote his signature for the thirtieth time that morning. He grunted, a sour expression marring his face as he placed the document on a growing stack to his right, sliding another one in front of him from a never-ending stack to his left.

And for the thirty-first time that morning, he scribbled his name in triplicates.

It was just as he expected, he supposed. Being a Rear Admiral and commander of a naval base was both a boon and a curse; on one hand, the pay was high and all he had to do was sit behind a desk and sign paperworks, attend ceremonies, perform inspections, and do his duty as the head of a naval base.

On the other hand, all he was doing was sit, grow fat, and kill his liver with alcohol.

Who would have thought that climbing up the ladder meant a dull life? Certainly not his younger self 25 years. Or even his little self 35 years ago, when all he dreamt about was feel the ocean wind on his face just as his grandfather did.

But such was the hand of God. Perhaps this was his destiny, sitting here in his office and doing his duty. At least he was allowed day offs whenever the burden was too much to carry. God knows how much this was a stressful job.

He glanced at the grandfather clock on the wall. 7:45 AM. It wasn't even an hour after breakfast, but the papers that needed his signature were still a bloody tall stack. At this rate, he would have to cancel his get-together with some of his friends this lunch.

Signing papers on Sundays. God, why did he even get promoted?

Shaking his head, Noah took a sip of his cold tea, grimacing at the bitter taste. It was always bitter, but Brian never seemed to learn how to properly prepare tea.

The door burst open with a crash.

"Sir!" Brian's voice boomed inside the office. "You won't believe what just happened!"

Without looking up from his desk, Noah said in a bored tone, "If this is another story of how your grandmother fought a wild animal twice her size, please spare me, Ensign. I'm busy enough as it is."

"No, sir! This is different, sir!"

"And drop the 'sir'."

"Yes, sir! I mean, yes, Commander! But you have to come with me to Stonehouse!"

Noah frowned. "What for? I just visited two days ago." It was part of his routine. And if there was one thing he enjoyed in his job, it was visiting fellow sailors who were sick or dying. A warm touch, even a warm friendly voice, was often all they needed to brighten their day.

"Yes. But someone is looking for you. She said her name is Queen Elizabeth."

Slowly, Noah's eyes drifted upward to Brian. Tall, lanky, with a shock of blond hair topping his head and bright blue eyes, the lad didn't really fit his job as a sailor. He looked more like a football superstar.

"Invoking the Queen's name as a joke is punishable by death, Ensign."

Blood drained from Brian's face. "I-It is?"

"Yes." No, it was a lie. But perhaps scaring the lad would pound some sense into him.

Brian scrunched his face in confusion. "Then all the more reason for you to come, sir. Because she was insisting that she was Queen Elizabeth. The warship, not the Queen."

For several seconds, all Noah did was stare at Brian. It was Sunday. He was certain he had gotten enough sleep, if six hours was enough. He knew it wasn't, but his career taught him to make do with whatever rest he could get. Glancing at his teacup, he took a sniff. It was the same chamomile leaf they regularly purchase from a nearby farm.

Was he dreaming? No, his dream would have involved sailing the sea. This had to be reality.

He sighed. Perhaps the poor lad had finally broke. "Ensign Brian?"

"Yes, Commander?"

With all the concern he could muster, Noah said, "Smoking pot is prohibited in this base. I'm sure you've been told that."

The ensign blinked. "I'm not… smoking, sir."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course, sir! I swear to God and the Queen!"

An impressive oath, Noah would admit. He paused, reconsidering his words. "You said 'she'. Who's she?"

"The one claiming to be HMS Queen Elizabeth, sir! Perimeter patrol found her washed up on the coast, all naked and soaking wet. They took her to Stonehouse where she woke up and said—"

"That she was HMS Queen Elizabeth. Yes, you've been repeating that for the last five minutes." Noah waved a hand dismissively. He had heard enough. "Tell the hospital they have my permission to do whatever they need with her. I don't have time to deal with lunatics."

He returned to his paperwork. As he was about to dip his pen on the white sheet, Brian spoke.

"Connor Dallimore."

Noah froze with the pen tip still on the last curve of the "e" in his signature. He fixed at Brian with a sharp gaze. "That was my grandfather's name, Ensign."

The lad swallowed. "Well, she mentioned that name after hearing yours. She told the nurses that Connor Dallimore once served aboard her. She said he loved to play chess and that his first love was a woman named S—"

"Selina." A chill crept up Noah's spine. Before he met Noah's grandmother, Grandpa Connor dated a journalist named Selina. They were in love, but Grandpa Connor had to marry Noah's grandmother to fulfill a promise, leaving Selina heartbroken. A year after the marriage, Selina died of a heart attack.

But no one knew about Selina except for Grandpa Connor… and Noah.

He dropped his pen into the holder and stood.

"Take me to her."

###

Their footsteps echoed in the sterilized hallway.

"Right this way, Commander," the nurse said, leading Noah and Brian.

They passed several doors, some empty, some accommodating patients with minor injuries. There weren't a lot of people admitted in Stonehouse nowadays on account of its aging facilities, and he heard it would soon be closed before the end of the decade.

They turned at a corner and headed deeper into the ward. Five doors down they stopped. The nurse stood by the one to the right.

"She's here?" Noah asked.

"Yes, Commander."

Hesitation gripped him. There was always that fear of the unknown, even with interacting with other people. What if this was all a waste of time? But if he had learned anything from his voyages in the sea, the unknown often held great treasures.

Steeling his nerves, Noah sent the nurse a curt nod. She knocked on the door. "Um, Ma'am? Commander Noah Dallimore is here to see."

"Please let him in."

Noah furrowed his brows. The voice was young, certainly not what he expected from someone babbling about being a World War 1-era warship. His hesitation grew, but it would be rude if he just left.

The nurse opened the door, and he stepped inside warily. The room was small; a bed, a side table, and a heart monitor pressed against one wall. Sunlight filtered through the window. There was only one mono block chair.

And on it sat a girl.

Or at least he thought it was a girl. The lass stared out the window, her blonde tresses flowing past her slim waist. The white hospital gown she wore wrapped her petite form loosely. She couldn't be more than 15 or 16, and if she stood up, she would barely reach Noah's breastbone.

Slowly, the girl turned to look at him. Noah stiffened.

A warm yet uncertain smile greeted him, but it was her eyes that held his attention. Those weren't the eyes of a lunatic, not even of a girl. No… He had seen those eyes during his visit in an eldercare for war veterans. Sailors and even soldiers who had seen enough bloodshed to last two lifetimes.

Eyes that were old and weary beyond years. Beyond decades.

The girl studied him for a moment before she spoke with the same voice that Noah heard before the nurse opened the door. "You look just like him," she mused. "Connor had the same bearing as you do."

At first, his jaw refused to work. He cleared his throat, filling his air with his lungs before responding firmly, "I get that a lot. How…" He was supposed to ask, "How did you know?" But he knew it would be ridiculous; Grandpa Connor died years before this girl should have been born.

Instead, he said, "How was my grandfather when he…" He trailed off, unable to continue. He didn't want to finish it. Because doing so would mean acknowledging whatever madness this was.

"A good sailor," she answered. "He was calm even when enemy shells were raining down upon us." Her smile became one of fond remembrance. "Queen's Gambit. He was so fond of using that whenever he played chess with some of the crew. Despite the fact that he often lost."

Noah couldn't help the snort from escaping through his nose. "I told him he had to change his strategy. He never listened until our very last game."

She nodded. "Your grandfather was stubborn. But it was that stubbornness that saved his life a few times." She paused, her expression somber. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes. 25 years ago. He always told me about…"

Noah froze. His eyes met the girl's. The unknown was always terrifying, isn't it? But the world wouldn't be what it was now if the sailors of old didn't brave the unknown. So he asked despite every fiber of his being already knowing.

"Who are you?"

And when the girl answered, it was with the pride and authority befitting a queen.

"I am HMS Queen Elizabeth."

###

"Brian, bring me a chair then leave us."

It was the first sentence he had said after a minute of heavy silence. The girl, Queen Elizabeth, hadn't spoken after her declaration. And it was probably better that way while he organized his jumbled thoughts.

He glanced at the nurse while Brian hurried to get a chair. "You as well. And whatever you've heard in this room remains a secret until you die or Winston Churchill rises from his grave. Do you understand?"

The nurse had a bewildered look, but she nodded nonetheless. She eyed the blonde girl. "Shall I bring food?"

Noah hesitated. "When did they find her?" he asked. He didn't know how long she had been at sea, but she had to be starving by now.

"She was taken here around 5 AM, maybe."

Four hours. Maybe longer. He glanced at the girl. "We'll give you something to eat. Is that fine with you?"

For a moment, the girl looked uncertain. Then a low grumble emanated from her stomach. She smiled thinly. "Yes. It's perfectly fine."

While the nurse departed to fetch some food, the girl returned to her vigil outside the window. Noah remained silent, his head brimming with questions. He wanted to ask them now, but it was better to let the girl have a full stomach first. He knew it would be a long conversation.

Brian and the nurse returned at the same time. The ensign looked out of breath. "Sorry, sir. The Nurse's Station is quite a long way from here."

The nurse carried a food tray, which she brought on a wheeled table toward the girl. Before she left, she pointed at a button above the bed. "If you need help with anything, just press the button."

Noah nodded gratefully. The door closed a moment later, leaving him inside the room with the girl.

She didn't seem perturbed by his watchful gaze, following her every movement. The food was a simple fare, eggs and toast with a slab of butter and a cup of hot cocoa. And he half-expected her to ask for assistance, but she wielded the plastic fork and knife with such skill that it was hard for him to believe what she had told him minutes ago.

The food was consumed in less than ten minutes, though she did with such grace that Noah barely noticed her wolfish appetite.

When she finished, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a toilet paper, she said, "My apologies for my rather boorish manner. This was the first time I've eaten food."

Noah arched an eyebrow. "Your first time?"

She nodded. "I'm sure you have questions."

A lot, Noah thought. He had to choose them wisely. "Before I begin, can I call you Elizabeth?"

"Of course, Commander."

He filled his lungs with air. "Please don't take offense, Elizabeth, but I have to ask again: who are you?"

For the first time, Elizabeth frowned. "I believe I just told you who I am." Her face softened. "Perhaps what you mean to ask is, what I am. I think you already know the answer to that, Commander."

"You're a warship. That's what you claim."

He still couldn't believe it. He still didn't want to believe it despite all the evidences. For all he knew, Grandpa Connor slipped up during one of his drunken get-togethers with his fellow sailors, and he told one of them about Selina.

Elizabeth folded her hands across her lap, casting down her gaze. "I don't know how to convince you. I don't even know why I'm here. Or why I have a human body. All I know is that I am here. And that I have flesh and blood instead of steel and oil."

Noah shifted in his seat. Distress was swiftly replacing Elizabeth's calm expression. "All right. Then perhaps you can start from the beginning."

She shook her head. "I won't be able to tell you much. My first thoughts were when I woke up on this bed."

"You don't remember anything before that? They found you washed up along the coast."

"No. Aside from memories of the wars, I don't…" Her voice faltered, and a frown marred her delicate face once more. "No. Wait. I think I remember something. I felt my hull being torn apart, then pure darkness." She scrunched her face. "The date. It was sometime in July, 1948."

Noah sucked his breath. "Elizabeth, that's the date you…" He couldn't bring himself to say it, but he had to. "That's the date you were scrapped."

She fell silent. Her eyes grew misty, but she blinked once and it was gone. With a smile, she looked at him and said softly, "So it was. How long has it been?"

"45 years. A lot has changed since then." He shook his head. "That's the last thing you can remember?"

"Aside from brief moments after the war, yes, that seems to be it." Her gaze drifted outside. "We're not in Portsmouth, I take it?"

"No. We're near Devonport."

"And the year. It's 1993?"

"80 years since you were built, yes." It was strange to Noah saying it like that, as if he believed her. Maybe he already did.

"80 years," she repeated softly. "And 45 years since my scrapping. But…" Here she returned her attention to him. "Why am I here, Commander? Why did I become a human?"

"I…" Noah closed his mouth, shaking his head. What was he going to tell her? He didn't know, either. He wasn't even sure if any of this was real. Perhaps he had died from overworking himself, and now he was living in some strange fantasy his dying mind had crafted in his last moments.

Or perhaps…

He sighed, and then it was his turn to smile. "I think we don't need to answer that for now. It's a new world to see out there, Elizabeth. A world you deserve to see. I'll talk to the doctors and ask them if they can release you soon. You're not feeling strange, anything?"

Her lithe shoulders rose and fell. "I don't even know what to feel, Commander. I've never been a human, though memories of my crew gave me knowledge how to act like one."

And all of them were men, Noah thought. He would have to hire someone just to teach Elizabeth how to act like a woman. But how would he tell them that Elizabeth was a warship that had been reborn as a human?

An idea struck him. He glanced at his watch. It was just past 8:30 AM. He still had time for a few minutes of conversation. Or an hour. "You answered some of my questions, but I believe you have some of your own," he said. "I can answer some of them now if you wish."

"I don't want to intrude on your duties, Commander."

"It's Sunday, Elizabeth. I'm not even supposed to be doing my duties today."

She laughed at that, and the sound was like a bell to his ears.

###

It was past noon when Noah emerged from the room.

He stood outside for some time, still trying to make sense of everything he and Elizabeth had talked about. Her accounts of major and even minor engagements were no mere fabrications of a deluded mind. He would even admit that they were more detailed than his grandfather's stories, down to the exact happenings of her crews' daily lives.

And there was her lack of common knowledge of the current world. Television, the Apollo 11 landing, British's economic crisis in the 1970's. All that even a child should know. But her eagerness to know was genuine.

A shiver shot through his spine. What did this mean? If Elizabeth was a reborn warship, why did she get reborn? The how was simple enough. He didn't believe in magic, but he firmly believed in miracles. And if this wasn't one, he might as well be really living in fantasy.

"Sir?"

Noah glanced to his right. Brian was sitting on a stool, rubbing his eyes as if he had just woke. His aide stared at him with bleary eyes.

"I thought you'd gone back to Devonport, Ensign," Noah said with a frown.

Brian shrugged. "You only told me to leave. You didn't say anything specific, sir."

Sometimes, Noah could forget how the lad was smart if only he'd learn to use his brain more often. He grunted. "Well, we're leaving. But I need you to drive me to the nearest bookshop first."

"Uh, bookshop?" Brian asked as he stood and followed Noah's crisp strides. "What for, sir?"

"That's a need-to-know basis, Ensign," was Noah's only reply.

###

Noah spent the rest of Sunday researching about reincarnation and rebirth.

It was tedious work and no less stressful than signing papers, but there was something cathartic doing something different for once instead of his monotonous routine. Besides, the subject was fascinating. He may be a Christian, but he wouldn't refuse other beliefs if it would help him understand Elizabeth's situation.

Unfortunately, none of the books could explain clearly how a warship could be reborn. The Japanese believed that objects could possess souls, while other cultures had varying, and sometimes conflicting, statements on reincarnation.

When he told this to Elizabeth during his second visit on Tuesday, she simply chuckled.

"I thought you said we don't need to know the answer to this mystery for now, Commander," she said with some amusement.

"Yes. But I hate not knowing," he replied. He watched her chewing on the strawberry cake he had brought, then said, "The doctors said you will be released in three days."

She looked at him in complete surprise. "Oh. That's fast."

"You expected to stay longer?"

"No. But I just assumed they would be… curious about my situation."

"Did you tell them anything else after you woke up yesterday?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "When they asked, I just told them I lost my memories. No one would believe me, right?"

He still hadn't, too, though that part of him was slowly vanishing the longer he talked with Elizabeth. "It's better that way, I believe. By the way, I have something for you." He grabbed a bag resting by his feet and handed it to her.

She took it with curiosity, peering inside. Her eyebrows rose. "Books?"

"Yes. Almanacs, encyclopedias, anything about the world." He smiled. "I can't be here all the time to talk with you, and it must be boring doing nothing in this room. Those books should keep you occupied until you can leave."

"It's a wonderful gift, thank you."

On Noah's third visit the next day, he found the books stacked in a neat pile on the bedside table. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, an empty food tray on her lap.

"Ah, good afternoon, Commander," she greeted him with a warm smile. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"I managed to finish my work early." He glanced at the books, frowning. "You aren't reading them?"

"Oh. I already finished all of them. I'm actually glad you stopped by." She looked hesitant yet hopeful at the same time. "If it's not too much to ask, I'm requesting another set of books. I asked the nurses here, but…" She shrugged. "It seems the bookshop is quite far from the hospital. Neither do I have any money to pay for them."

Noah hardly paid attention to most of what she said. He stared at the books, a stack of six, and not even the kinds that only children would read. No, each one was at least two inches thick and 300 pages long, crammed with as much information as a small library.

"You finished reading all of them?" His mind swam with disbelief.

"I guess? I read quite fast."

Noah's jaw worked, but no words escaped from his throat. He inhaled deeply and grabbed one of the books. In a calm voice, he asked, "Elizabeth, can you recite a chapter from this book?"

Though she wore an expression of great puzzlement, Elizabeth nodded. "Of course, Commander." And she began reciting chapter 12 with enough accuracy it was as if she had written it herself.

When Elizabeth finished, Noah barely held the book. He almost dropped it from his trembling fingers. Composing himself, he closed the book and replaced it on top of the pile.

"Is there something wrong, Commander?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, no. Everything's fine." He waved a hand. "I'll send over more books tomorrow." Thicker ones, he thought. But he doubt if a bookshop sold those. He would have to ask from the local library.

"Thank you, Commander. I have another request."

"Of course. What is it?"

"I want to visit Portsmouth."

He sat there in silent contemplation for several seconds, rolling her request in his mind. It wasn't outside his power; all it needed was a brief request for Commander Edward Loughty to grant her access to the least important areas of the naval base. However…

"Why not Devonport?" he said slowly. It was his naval base, and the paperworks required was almost non-existent.

She shook her head. "I appreciate your offer, Commander. And I also want to see where my sister, Warspite, was built." Her fingers twiddled. Softly she added, "But it's not where I was built."

He regarded her with sympathy. When was the last time he'd slept in his own house? Four, five years? He knew it was longer than that. Elisa was probably fuming by now, even if he had given her free rein over the estate.

"I can't guarantee anything at the moment, Elizabeth," he said. "But I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, maybe you can visit Devonport. There are new things to see that weren't there during your time."

The girl's lips curved into a smile as she nodded. "In that case, I'll be glad to accept your offer, Commander."

###

Three days passed. Noah had yet to find a house for Elizabeth. She didn't have any relatives; she wasn't even a registered citizen of Britain. And the paperworks required to register her as one would be nightmarish. Neither could he stomach leaving her to fend for herself. She needed a home.

So for the first time in five years, Noah called his sister.

The phone rang long. It was Friday evening. She would be back home by now after her shift in the restaurant. That is, if she was still working there.

A minute passed. Then three. The phone kept ringing. But he remained patient. He knew what it was like to climb down the spiral staircase from the third story. It often left him cursing Grandpa Connor's wealth.

Finally, on the five minute-mark, a familiar answered the phone. "Elisa Dallimore here."

Noah was silent for several heartbeats. His mouth worked like a trout flopping on the ground, but no words left his lips. What was he supposed to say to his sister? That he was bringing home a girl they found ashore because she had nowhere else to go? Would she even believe her if he said that Elizabeth was a warship that got reborn as a human?

No, he had to keep it a secret for now. For everyone's sanity.

Elisa growled. "Look here, bastard. I'm tired, hungry, and I've yet to take a bath. Now if you don't have anything to do with your spare time, don't bother other people with—"

"How are you doing, Eli?"

His sister stopped. There was a sharp intake of breath from the other line. When Elisa spoke again, Noah could barely hear her whisper, "Noah?"

Noah managed a faint smile. "It's been a long time, sister."

"A long time?" Elisa's voice was almost a shrieking cadence. "For God's sake, Noah, it's been five years! Why didn't you call? Why didn't you visit? You just left me here!"

He closed his eyes. It was the kind of reaction he had expected from her. "I know. I'm sorry. But you know why I left. Why I had to."

At that her tone grew softer, though without shedding any trace of anger. "But just to leave like that? Noah, you could have told me that you plan on staying at Devonport for the rest of your life!"

"Eli, I don't plan on staying here for the rest of my life," he said with a sigh. "In fact, I'm returning tomorrow."

There was a pause. In a calmer voice, she asked, "Why?"

He had practiced the story last night, but knowing Elisa, she would know if he was lying. "I'm adopting a girl. My friend, her father, died on a voyage at sea. We rescued her last Sunday." He drew a deep breath. "Her mother is already dead, Eli. And I made a promise to her parents."

Elisa snorted. "You made a lot of promises you couldn't keep, Noah."

"I know," he said softly. Sometimes he even wondered if that was all his life amounted to, broken promises.

"The girl, how old is she?"

"16." He furrowed his brows. If he was to register Elizabeth in the consensus, he had to decide on a birth date for her.

"Wait. 16?" Elisa's voice grew again. "But that's… Oh my God, Noah, is she Isabel's re—"

"No," he cut her off sharply. Perhaps too sharp than he intended. Elisa fell silent at once. Composing himself, Noah added, "No one can replace Isabel, you know that. I'm just doing a favor to a friend. Nothing more."

"If you say so." She sounded dubious, but thankfully she finally dropped the subject. "When will you arrive?"

"By evening. I still have some errands to do. But I'll be staying over the weekend and even the entire next week."

She laughed. "Making amends, aren't you?" Noah's smile returned.

"Always, Eli. Always."

###

Saturday morning was bright and clear, and Noah felt his worry dissipating. His request for a 10-day vacation trip had been granted easily. He was going home after five long years. And Elizabeth was finally released from the hospital.

He glanced at her from the rearview monitor. The dark blue skater dress he bought yesterday fitted her well. He was surprised she had chosen it among the other clothes, which were fancier, but he approved of her simple taste.

"How are you doing, Elizabeth?" he asked.

She smiled as she dragged away her gaze from the window for a moment to look at him. "I'm doing well, Com—ah, Noah."

He chuckled, returning his gaze to the road. "You'll get used to it." To other people, he would just be Noah to her, his adopted sister. It was a simple setup that needed no complications.

Brian drove them toward Devonport at a leisure speed. The main gate drew nearer, and Elizabeth sat straighter in her seat, looking ahead.

"ID, please," one of the guards said at the first checkpoint. After Noah and Brian showed their ID's, the burly man eyed Elizabeth.

"She's with me," Noah said, hoping that his rank and position would be enough. "She lost her ID, but we've already requested for a replacement. Don't worry. She won't go anywhere she's not allowed."

The guard seemed uncertain, but Noah's words were enough to sway him. "Of course, Commander. I'll inform the other checkpoints."

After ten minutes of going through five different checkpoints, they were through. Noah watched as Elizabeth's eager gaze absorbed the sights around her, from the houses and commercial establishments to the schools and training facilities and barracks. It reminded Noah of the first time he had arrived here, when he was just a ship captain.

The Royal Navy Avenue was almost empty at this time of the morning, and they reached the dockyards soon. As Brian parked the car. Noah was the one first one to climb out, moving to the passenger's door and opening it for Elizabeth. The girl poked her head out, her eyes taking in everything.

It must have been a sight for her. Cranes towered above them, lifting steel and wood that would form the skin and bones of the dry docks currently under construction. Men and women hurried along, coming to or arriving from their destination, performing tasks necessary to maintain the largest naval base in the Western Europe. Their voices filled the air in a familiar cacophony.

But despite that, Noah saw Elizabeth's eyes drawn to the waters, where the frigates and submarines lay in anchor like slumbering sea creatures. She stared at them like one would when seeing their long-lost cousins or siblings.

"Devonport ceased ship construction decades ago," he said as they strolled toward the nearest submarine. "The facilities were converted for maintenance and repair. Mostly frigates and submarines, which also dominate our fleets now, though aircraft carriers still reign supreme."

They stopped at the edge of a dock. "HMS Triumph," Noah gestured at the black hull in front of them. "Last of the Trafalgar-class nuclear submarine. She just finished a tour in Australia and received a record for the longest submerged voyage at sea."

He guided her to the next ship. "HMS Argyll, Type 23 Duke-class frigate. Equipped with the Sea Wolf missile system. But I heard there's a new missile system being developed, and she'll be the first one to receive it."

And so they moved from ship to ship with Noah giving a brief description and history of each one. Elizabeth remained silent throughout his tour, but he could tell from the way her eyes lingered on the ships they passed that she was reminiscing her days as a vessel of war.

When they reached the dry docks, they stopped. The sound of construction was louder here, almost deafening. Overhead, a crane swung a bundle of steel beams, the cord swaying with the wind.

"Why are the docks bigger here?" Elizabeth asked, the first words she had spoken since they arrived.

Satisfied with her open interest, Noah answered, "For the Vanguard-class. Nuclear. Largest ballistic submarines in our fleet."

She nodded at that. Noah stood by her side, hands clasped at his back. They must have looked an odd pair, him with his white cap and uniform pinned with medals, her with her dress. Some of the sailors glanced in their direction, but Noah's presence made them return their focus on their tasks.

After a minute, he said, "Do you want to see the civilian areas? We can buy some food for our drive to Hampshire."

She looked at him in surprise. "You live in Hampshire? I thought you're born in Plymouth."

He shook his head, chuckling. "I never said I was born in Plymouth. It's quite a long story. I'll tell you on the way."

They passed another construction crane as he guided her back to the car. The voices swelled around them, and Noah thought he heard a metallic groan, but it was probably just the walls on the nearby dry dock. It often made that sound whenever there was a strong wind.

"Commander, watch out!" someone shouted. Then there was a loud shrieking sound followed by a snap.p

Noah's training kicked in a second too late. He saw a shadow against the ground, growing larger and larger. It forced him to look up, his eyes widening at the sight of a solid block of steel dropping toward him and Elizabeth..

He was about to grab her hand, eyes still on their impending doom, when he almost flew away from where he stood. As he landed on his hands and knees twenty feet away, a loud boom echoed behind him and the ground shuddered from the impact.

No! "Elizabeth!" he roared, scrambling to his feet and looking behind him.

His heart dropped. With an incoherent yell he rushed toward the steel block, as did a hundred sailors shouting and yelling. There was no sign of Elizabeth.

Noah reached it first, dropping to his knees as his fingers slipped beneath the steel block. He screamed, his veins and muscles burning. The bloody block weighed at least five tonnes.

No, not again. Please, God, not again. He heaved once more. It wouldn't budge an inch, but the weight grew lighter as more hands came to his aid.

"Heave!" Brian yelled.

With a synchronized shout, they pulled the block away, sending it crashing sideways. Noah dreaded what he would find, fearing the worse. And then a voice spoke softly.

"I'm fine, Commander."

Elizabeth stared at him with wide eyes, filled with terror and shock. Noah wrench her off the ground and dragged her toward him. Except for the bruise on her right arm, she was unhurt.

His shoulders sagged in relief. "Thank God," he whispered. He brushed her hair gently. "You're okay now, Elizabeth. But we should still have you ch—"

"No." She hesitated, avoiding his gaze. "I'm fine. Let's just leave."

He nodded. Of course she wouldn't want to stay. Such an incident would be traumatizing. "All right." He flashed her a quick smile. "We'll go. Brian!"

"Y-Yes, Commander?" the ensign said uncertainly.

"Take Elizabeth to the car. I'll join you soon." Despite his calm voice, rage bubbled in his chest. That steel block could have killed him or Elizabeth. Probably both if no one had saved him. Why the hell didn't nobody secure it properly?

He frowned, replaying the events in his mind. Who had saved him?

He glanced at Elizabeth as he stood and she was led by Brian. She stared back at him, worry coloring her eyes… No, not at him. Past him.

Only then did Noah notice that the crowd had gotten quieter. Hushed murmurs swept among them, and Noah caught bits of it.

"Did you see that? It should have killed the girl."

"How did she survive that? It must weigh several tonnes."

"Was that dent already there before?"

What dent? Slowly, Noah turned, staring at the block of steel.

There at the bottom was a three-inch dent, as if it had crashed into something far more solid, large enough for Elizabeth to fit in.

Hello, Shikikans and Commanders! Welcome to my first ever Azur Lane fanfic.

First of all, this story is inspired by several AL fanfics. There's A Battleship On My Doorstep, Masks of Command, and Mighty Eagle, Calm Nest just to name a few. Not in plot, but in a way that it focuses on the plot and characters rather than action.

The difference with my story, though, is the complete absence of Siren technology and Wisdom Cubes. I want to have my own take on how shipgirls are born; namely, they are reborn with memories of their past lives as warships. In essence, this is going to be more on supernatural magic rather than science magic.

Having said that, some of the shipgirs will have different personalities than their video game or even anime version. I want to reimagine them as characters that are closer to their history while still retaining some of their familiar quirks and lore.

And speaking of lore, the series itself will go through all 4 major factions. Her Majesty's Ship is the first in the series, which will focus primarily on Queen Elizabeth and the Royal Navy shipgirls. Not everyone will appear, unfortunately, but rest assured that all shipgirls are here, one way or another. Also, the series itself is part of a mega-crossover saga I'm building up, so expect some references here and there. However, this is still going to be standalone.

Anyway, this is initially set in 1993. I tried to do my best on research, but since I don't live in Europe and I'm not military-savvy, there could be inconsistencies with real life information. So feel free to correct any mistakes you see.

Thank you for reading the first chapter and see you guys on the next one! Don't hesitate to leave a review!