Am I not a fly like thee?
Or art thou not a man like me?
For I dance and drink and sing,
Till some blind hand shall brush my wing.
In the beginning, there had been some vague hope that things might settle down. Sure, Lutzow was a bit lazy, but she could be maintained by a couple of privates and provided tremendous benefits for it. Then there was Seydlitz, a model soldier who helped far more than she ever hindered.
Sure, there was some disruption inherent to women on a naval base and at sea, but for a while, they shared in the illusion that things might stay normal.
As more shipgirls came in, stronger personalities cropped up. A seemingly simple and straightforward process proved itself to actually be impossible to control or predict in any real way. Sure, the ship's purpose and the captain's impression of it would color them, but there was always a certain eccentricity. Was it connotation or subconscious thought? Maybe, or perhaps it was just complete and total randomness that they desperately tried to apply logic to, in the vain hope that they could control this new power of theirs.
They could get more cubes, yet they couldn't claim to understand how they actually worked beyond the most surface-level observations. Cube in, shipgirl out, and later on, shipgirl in (to battle) and cube out. Practically speaking, for most of the men it was magic, and some of the girls really enforced that idea.
Well, all of them were a bit magical, with the way they interacted with ships, but some stood out from the rest. Seydlitz's distinctive pink hair, for example, or the marvels worked by Derfflinger. Like an alchemist, with her own strange sort of homunculi.
There was something deeply illogical about it, a heaping helping of something mystical, but it was inarguably efficient. You could pout and grumble about it, or you could embrace the better way, in all of its strangeness.
Speaking of… Frigate Captain Leonhardi went to grab his charge. If you were lucky, you got someone relatively tame, a sort of equal partner in your naval pursuits. If you weren't, you were a wrangler, although your exact duties varied depending on who. The men assigned to the Bayern class ended up looking more like slightly henpecked older brothers, or like a family friend who was asked to take care of a teenage girl with no clue of how to do such a thing.
Contrast that to Graudenz's man, who had to communicate his requests to Regensburg's man, who would ask the ship herself, who might attempt to tame her sister if she was feeling particularly magnanimous that day. And that was when the two poor men weren't desperately trying to keep their charge's tails from scratching up every doorjamb on the base.
Many felt a fondness, though. It was hard not to feel something about the Bayerns, and Leonhardi's fellow Frigate Captain, Westerkamp, had a sort of fascination with Derfflinger's strange sciences. He was totally convinced that strategic use of cubes could revolutionize production, but they were a bit hard to come by, at the moment.
Well, perhaps their upcoming attack on British shipping would give Germany a few extra cubes to play with. He and Westerkamp had both been informed of their upcoming attack, and honestly, Leonhardi was surprised to see Westerkamp hadn't beaten him to the punch getting to Brummer and Bremse's room. Perhaps there was someone he needed to schmooze.
He knocked on the door, and after a moment, he heard a faint "Come in!" When he stepped inside, he smelled blood but didn't panic. That was Bremse's infamous complication.
"Good evening, Frigate Captain," Bremse smiled, stains of blood still fresh around her mouth. She tightened some gauze around her sister's wrist. It was her preferred spot for feeding. (Brummer's other hand was occupied with a book.)
Bremse was… strange. Most everyone on the base had seen those fangs of hers by now, but she didn't exactly bring a pale, fiendish vampire to mind. Where the 'real thing' was stereotypically pale and gaunt, Bremse was well-built and ruddy. She was a touch redder and her cheeks a bit more full… perhaps it was a hearty military diet.
Honestly? It was the blood. Everyone knew it, but there was a stigma about it. They already avoided talking about the shipgirls in ways that might be overheard– whether by the British or curious civilians– and they certainly weren't going to pile rumors of vampires on top of that.
Perhaps it would be possible to keep that secret. Not shipgirls overall, but distinctive quirks like vampirism and the Graudenz sister's artificial tails could be hidden, with effort. The base had shifted to accommodate both…
Bremse drew blood on rotation, with enough spacing to make sure that everyone stayed lucid and didn't faint in the middle of something important. Smooth talk and charm had won her enough volunteers that she never wanted for blood, although Leonhardi wished that would make her draw from Brummer a bit less often. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like some sort of strange sibling bonding activity between the two.
(Well, he supposed it was slightly more acceptable than her habit of licking blood off of her sword during her infamously risky duels. Ugh.)
"Frigate Captain?" Brummer asked, looking up from her book. "Did you need something?"
"Yes. Would you like to discuss it over a walk?"
She smiled and stood up, setting down her book and picking up a pair of darkly tinted glasses. It wasn't much of a precaution, considering everyone on the base knew who she was, but Brummer's eyes were… distinctive, a sort of iridescent color best compared to the sheen of an insect's carapace.
Not a very flattering descriptor, admittedly, but when in a human eye the effect was mesmerizing, shifting from a sort of blackish to a vivid blue-green. Lovely, but something painfully noticeable and unnatural… (Sort of like the outfits she and her sister wore when they initially 'spawned', a bizarre combination of a big coat and very abridged clothes underneath, something almost like an acrobat's leotard in Brummer's case.)
"Remember what we talked about, Brummer!"
"Yes, yes Bremse! I've got it!"
Leonhardi gulped. "What's the matter?"
"Just a personal affair of ours. Although if you're concerned, I can let you in on all the intimate details, Frigate Captain." She gave a sultry smile, and for a moment he wondered if that was genuine or a bluff, and also wondered if he really wanted to find out. Getting a reputation of impropriety…
"Just don't cause any trouble."
"Me? Getting in trouble?"
"It's more likely than you'd think," Leonhardi said.
Brummer laughed. "Perhaps, my Frigate Captain. Now, what business brought you here to me? I assume it was something more than the pleasure of my company."
"Yes. You and Bremse are going on a commerce raid."
"Not all on our lonesome, I would hope?"
"Of course not." Attempts at letting shipgirls operate alone had shown they were complements for a crew, not sufficient replacements. Ideally, Brummer and Bremse would be focusing on the actual fighting and minelaying– perhaps their nature as Kansen would give them some speck of insider knowledge which would let them lay more efficient fields? He couldn't say.
They opened the door and stepped outside the dorms, just in time to catch a nice sea breeze that blew in, gently moving Brummer's hair. She smiled. "What a beautiful day. I had nearly missed it."
"We believe the weather should get a bit worse before your mission. Not enough to impede it, but hopefully enough to disorient the British."
"How fortunate." She said. "I do wish you would allow us more leisure time on the beach, Captain."
In some ways, the ships were horribly coddled. They weren't allowed to swim on the beach without guards overlooking them and perhaps even a dinghy for rescue. There was some obvious utility in them knowing how to swim, but they simply couldn't afford to lose the best thing to happen to their battleships because one of the girls was caught in a riptide or something.
"Perhaps you'll get a bit more leisure when the war ends." It felt a bit canned because it was sort of the government's line. A lot of the girls were essentially being motivated by the promise of special luxuries after the war: carrots on sticks, varying from girl to girl. Bayern was essentially sold on good food and time with her sisters, while someone like Fredrich wanted to see concerts and talk to distinguished musicians…
Leonhardi supposed he couldn't blame the girls for having hobbies and interests, although it made him feel a bit guilty whenever he asked. Was he asking Brummer because he thought her a friend and good companion, or because he knew his superiors would be glad to have some bait to lie for her?
"That's a happy idea, isn't it?" She smiled. "I've tried not to get my hopes too high… but I would like to go to Bad Kudowa."
"Bad Kudowa?" Where was that? It sounded Slavic, and some part of him wondered if one of their ships should really be traipsing through that sort of territory.
"Yes. The Silesian spa town?" Oh, thank goodness. Local, friendly, and easy to get to.
"You're interested in spas?" He asked.
"The spa is nice, but it's nothing compared to the town's main feature."
Why did her emphasis give him such a bad feeling?
"Have you ever heard of Saint Bartholomew's Church?"
"No, I can't say I have." Frankly, Brummer hadn't struck him as the type. Bremse wasn't scared away by crucifixes, so nothing was stopping either of the two, technically speaking…
"I read about it." She read about a lot, actually. Anything she could get her hands on, including things that she probably shouldn't be getting her hands on… "It's in Silesia, built about two centuries ago…"
"And what marvels are contained therein?" He asked.
"Three thousand human skulls."
"Pardon?"
"Three thousand human skulls decorate the church, in addition to femurs and other bones."
Three thousand dead bodies. How many Saint Bartholomew's was this war building, every single day? The thought made his stomach churn. "And you want to visit?"
"Absolutely. Don't you think it would be interesting, Frigate Captain?"
"In a sort of macabre way."
"But that's the best way, Frigate Captain."
It was a daring attack, some ways north of their usual haunts, all the way up near Shetland. Britain drew material from her colonies, of course, but she also did business with 'neutral' Norway… meaning they had an awful lot of sea to protect, what with their colonies and Mediterranean interests.
Some of the admirals seemed to think that the British also had shipgirls, which was a concerning thought, but they were spread wide. Sure, it was probable that Britain had thrown a few cubes at their cruisers and destroyers, just to see how they worked, but why would such a ship be condemned to running a miserable North Sea escort mission?
Perhaps they'd send a few up this way when they realized how vulnerable their Scandinavian trade actually was. With the Brummer class' terrible speed, the autumn weather, and the shorter days all aligned to let them race in practically undetected. Their U-boats had been ordered not to attack light cruisers for the length of this mission, so there shouldn't be any complications…
(Well, they unwittingly avoided some complications due to the British fumbling valuable information from their codebreakers. At times, a few slips of paper could prove more powerful than shipgirls.)
The morning twilight was fading when they caught the convoy, they managed to convince the enemy that they were British until they were close enough to brutalize them. One of the British destroyers didn't even get a chance to fire back, it was savaged so fiercely, and the other only managed a few token shots from range before it was sundered.
Leonhardi would like to say what followed could all be blamed on eccentric, unpredictable shipgirls. It wasn't, but it showed a different side of the girls. They didn't spend nearly enough time in the area to rescue any survivors– hell, a few shots had probably landed a bit too close to the evacuated British– and Brummer seemed rather upset by that. As the sun rose, she could only stare from the back at the ship, watching the carnage recede.
(She was frowning. One of the men asked: "Miss Brummer, is something the matter?"
"I wanted to see up close.")
In contrast, there was her sister. The sight of Bremse lit up by the rising sun, flushed and red-lipped with fresh blood… It wasn't the first time she had been a little disturbing– see the sword-licking thing– but now she reached the realm of horror, a woman who saw that carnage and smiled.
He didn't quite understand Brummer's frown during the end of the Action off Lerwick until later, until they came back from a fleet action and Brummer rushed to one of the damaged ships. After paying a brief courtesy to Friedrich and her officers, she went to find the injured.
Leonhardi would only track her down once the matter of debriefing was done: he tracked her down to there, the base's hospital, where the ancient smell of blood lingered with pungent modern antiseptics and medicines. "Have you seen Brummer?"
"Yes. She's down that hall. With the… hopeless cases."
Leonhardi rushed down to find a scene of remarkable misery, something almost like what he heard the trenches were like. Well, perhaps not. They shared the threat of shrapnel and splinters, the brutal effects of an explosion, but it seemed unlikely that you would get scalded in the trenches. The whole room felt as if it was painted in stained off-whites and livid reds, but there was a blot of black.
Brummer sat by a bedside, holding some poor boy's hand in hers. "I would have offered you a spot on my lap, but…" But his head had received horrific burning, so much that there wasn't a single scrap of hair on his head. Laying down must have been misery.
"Thank you, Miss…" The boy wheezed.
She smiled down at him, watching attentively. His breathing slowed, his mumbling grew less and less coherent. At some point, he seemed to start thinking that he was talking with his mother, not Brummer. He fell dreadfully silent, and Brummer kept on watching.
She gave his hand one final squeeze and stood up, finally noticing Leonhardi. "Hello, Frigate Captain. Was there something you needed from me?"
"I just wanted to check on you."
"Well, I'm glad for that, Frigate Captain." She walked to a spout and washed her hands, before scanning the room.
"You're staying?"
"Until it's done." She answered.
Leonhardi wondered if the men realized what was coming when she stopped by, or if they were too insensate to realize the implication. It seemed she was determined to see them all off…
"Tell Bremse I'll be back late. Some of them will last into the night, it seems."
Did some nurse tell her that, or was she developing a sense for it?
I had the privilege of visiting a very old church once, and I distinctly remember looking down through a grate and seeing a skull. There were catacombs with arranged piles of skulls and femurs, sometimes hundreds in a room. Very humbling stuff.
Anyway, I imagined the Brummer class's initial outfits as essentially being black and gray knockoffs of the Arethusa class in-game. Arethusa and Galatea are horrendously underrated.