I have Archive of my Own now so I'm adding shit on there. Been pretty much writing for fun with no real expectation of anything. Life has been getting good yall, So I'm doing alright.
Enjoy this Azur Lane story. Will post another Chapter if this one does well.
Commander Karl Dael places the last of the month's financial paperwork for the port in the finished pile. The port seemed to hemorrhage money like a shot to the main artery, but this was treatable, unlike a gunshot to the central vein. Though this front was closed, many issues persisted across the port.
Training facilities were old or needed repair, living areas needed expansion for the new shipgirls, and a new training cycle needed to be constructed to deal with remaining Siren interference following the aftermath of Operation Siren and subsequent operations following it. All of this was compounded with moral events to keep the girls cohesive and entertained in between training, which he had to attend if possible. His time here began a month ago at the hast of Mr. Z, who insisted that this position would "Not only keep you sharp for combat but allows you to relax actively."
"Active, rest my ass," Karl growls as he collects the paperwork. It was a strange sight to him to be in standard combat uniform carrying papers. It reminded him of being in his country's capital, Juno, for a theater operation brief where many troops wore clean ANA Steppe M6 fatigues in ATACS FG. In contrast, he wore a patchwork uniform of the same pattern.
The self-loathing he felt at the idea of wearing a dress uniform every day made him sick, but even the compromise of wearing his combat fatigues still put a bad taste in his mouth. What would his soldiers think if they saw him pushing papers like the clerks and aids in Juno? "Rear Echelon Shitbags." He muttered to himself.
The head maid, Belfast of the Royal Navy, opens the door to his office. In her hands was a tray of sandwiches and fresh tea for him. Gazing at his watch, and to his surprise, it was nearly lunch.
"Master," Belfast begins, his tones filled with firm concern. "You've been awake since 0400 this morning and neglected to eat a meal once again. Someone who takes such pride in himself to neglect the most important meal of the day is counterproductive."
"My apologies, Ms. Belfast," Karl says as he clips the papers together. "The amount of bureaucratic nonsense the brass needs concerning this place is ridiculous for a man of my talents."
"An officer's life is not always glorious," Belfast assures him as she places the tray on his desk. "Please, I insist you eat and have some tea."
The tray held several club sandwiches that made him droll. His stomach roared at the sight before him. "I shall. Thank you."
"There is no need to thank me, Master." She says, her voice softening as she watches him eat. "Though I must insist further that you remember to eat. You seem to forget everything around you when you are stressing work."
"I do." Karl agrees as he finishes a sandwich. "There is just so much that needs to be corrected here. I honestly don't see where the focus of the leadership was here."
"The former Commander tried her best," Belfast says as she pours a cup of tea.
Belfast has been at the Commander's side since he arrived. The initial impression of him was that of an intense man driven by work and progress but with hints of softness and charm.
"Major Karl Erich Dael." She remembers him saying to the Former Commander with a smart salute and a firm expression. His appearance was so foreign compared to the others in their bright white or navy-blue uniforms. The green dress uniform he wore then made him stick out like a sore thumb on the airfield.
"Must be from the Marines." The old Commander remarked to her later that day before she left. "The stories of the special forces are vague at most."
The greeting he gave her stuck in her mind. When she curtsied to him, he returned it with a bow and kissed her hand, "Tis a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Belfast. I look forward to working with you."
The stoic members of Azur Lane were greatly impressed by his dedication to the port and readiness. Constant supervision of training and renovations of the port kept him moving constantly. Still, it never ceased, even in his off time, as he lived an active lifestyle with intense physical activity. She found herself struggling to feed him more than cleaning up after him as he preferred to keep his quarters and living areas clean on his own, a matter with which she took some issue.
"I'm sure of it," Karl replies, taking a drink of water. "Higher wasn't keen on supporting this place with all the odd expenditures. I mean, look at this one! 45,000 USD for building an Idol stage! Do you know what I could have done to the port's training facilities on the other side with that money?"
The head maid smiled as she handed him a cup of hot tea. She offered milk and sugar to mix into the tea, which she highly insisted on. "The girls of the port enjoy moral events. The Royal Navy staff found that the moral events have increased productivity among the girls. We are, after all, just as human as you are."
He looks at the milk and sugar rather strangely as he processes what Belfast says. "Sometimes I forget my humanity, If I may be honest with you, Ms. Belfast."
He poured a small amount of sugar and milk into his tea. The Royal Navy light cruiser looked at him puzzlingly as he looked at the milk and sugar with a mix of happiness soured with faint contempt. The odd gaze then moved to the sandwiches she brought, broken by a slight sigh.
"Is there something wrong, Master?" She asks him, genuinely concerned if something is wrong with her items.
Karl snaps out of his thoughts, and the look on his face disappears. "It is just… Odd." He vaguely said as he mixed the tea.
"The tea?" She asks, puzzled. "Is there something wrong with it?
The Commander, while intense and odd at times, seemed to be at ease for just a moment as he took a long sip of tea. He held it in his mouth for a moment and swallowed it slowly, savoring it with a small smile. "Nothing at all. It's perfect." He says to her, putting it on the table.
"It's just… Odd having these." Karl says to Belfast, pointing at the tea and sandwich plate. "These luxuries. All this. It's all odd, even after a month. It's something I must become accustomed to still."
Belfast wasn't naïve in any sense. Even as a Warship, she had seen combat and survived it all. Now, as a shipgirl, she continues that. His eyes conflicted between being thankful for warm tea and quality food luxuries. The bags under them and the sinking in his face showed a lot of hard-won years of conflict.
"The war may still be on," Belfast tells him. "But we still try to enjoy as much as we can. I know you know this just as well as I do."
Maybe she did; Karl needed to learn her combat record and as Shipgirl. But he knew of the ship that fought through the last great war that spent the rest of its days sunbathing on display. The wisdom cubes blessed these girls with the ship's experience and more. He needed to lash back slightly, but he had a soft spot for the head maid, who would scold him for not eating. With a loving smile, he says, "We both do. Seeing simple things like sugar, milk, and good tea is humbling. I remember so much of a different time. It grounds me in a sense. But, I suppose I lose myself as well."
"Master," Belfast begins stepping closer to him.
Before she could say anything, he took another sip of tea. Sitting the cup down, Belfast notices a smile on his face. "Irish black tea. I remember a better time with this blend." He says to her.
The two were nearly inches from each other, gazing into each other's eyes. Belfast's eyes were calming and full of warm confidence that radiated around her. In contrast, his eyes gave the impression of a restless man.
"Master." She says to him. "Please, for the girls of the port, please take care of yourself. We are all worried about you in our ways."
Being caught off guard by the remark, "Only been here a month. How can I worry any of you this much?"
"You've been working nonstop for nearly all of it," Belfast says flatly. "Even Ms. Enterprise has better eating habits than you most days."
"I usually eat…." Karl says as he ponders his habits. "Most days."
"While I understand what you are doing for the port," Belfast says, taking his hand. "Some of the girls do not. The majority of them think you're a hermit."
"They must understand that I've been busy," Karl says, defending himself. "The canteen has surpassed all efficient expectations, the repair teams have new tools and diagnostic capabilities, and even the "
"We just want you," Belfast says, hushing him as she puts his hands down. "Try it, Master."
His expression turned from self-explanation to analyzing as he turned to finish his tea. Belfast keeps her face stoic, all the while knowing what she has done.
The cruiser took the empty tray and cups away. Belfast kept her back to the Commander, but she hid a warm smile and a feeling of fulfillment away.
Karl pondered what his head maid had spoken to him about. Overthinking, he decided to walk sometime later after finishing the rest of his paperwork. What did she mean by that, 'We want you?
Most girls were either training, in class, or minding their business. Most left him be, some with a look of uncertainty, and others avoiding him for an odd reason. From what he could tell, the avoidance appeared to be due to fear or anxiety due to how fast they moved. Did he scare them? More pondering is for the Commander's restless mind. He walked across the port for a couple of hours. His favorite place to walk was the repair yard where some of the girls' riggings would be repaired, but the thought of the girls needing to see him, he assumed, made him stay away and keep himself local around the center of the port.
He takes himself to the tables outside the canteen to attempt to relax outside. Pondering Belfast's words as he rests in a wooden folding chair, he takes out his lighter, debating whether or not he should have a cigarette. He didn't smoke as much as he used to in his younger age, but there were just times he craved the smokey flavor of an unfiltered cigarette. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his thick salt and pepper hair.
"Amazing how it's all still there." He remarks to himself as he puts his hat on the table. "I would have thought this life would have made me bald. But the gods want me to have a full head of hair."
Looking at the lighter unsurely, he puts it away and looks around his surroundings. "God forbid any of them to catch me smoking." He says aloud.
The anxiety of being an example was present here vs. being on the line with his men. The Kansen were a mixed bunch and he, looking at them, at least most of them, as raw recruits, called upon his more responsible self to be the best example possible. Though even he believed he was being too uptight then. It didn't help either; He was too hard on himself as it was before coming to the port. With a sigh, he tries to forget his lust for a cigarette.
A handful of girls were out walking from the tactical training building. He recognized four as destroyers from Eagle Union, Sakura Empire, Royal Navy, and Iron Blood. He'd seen them before and tried to remember their names; he was terrible at remembering younger girls' names. "Ah yes, Laffey, Nimi, Javelin, and Ayanami. Those girls I remember. They always get into some trouble." The 'Best Friend Squad,' as he called them in his reports about their shenanigans, went to a nearby sitting area where some shipgirls would relax and study together. He wondered what nonsense they would get into today.
The rest of the girls were a mixed collection of destroyers of the Z family and a couple of Cruisers from Eagle Union. Sadly, he couldn't recall their names at the moment. From the shops, he could see a couple of Iron Blood girls he recognized as Prinz Eugen and Hipper. The dead giveaway was the usual banter of the latter being flat as a board, which didn't bother him. "Sisters are interesting for sure." He remarks casually.
Behind him, he heard the bell of the canteen door ringing, followed by soothing humming. The tune seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it at all. He looks around to the sound of boots clicking behind him to see a blonde Iron Blood girl with shoulder-high hair. The black clothing and brown eyes gave her identity away rather quickly: Roon.
"Commandant!" She sings. "I haven't seen you since the last training exercise!"
"Roon, Sweetie!" Karl says with a warm smile. "How are you? Sorry I've just been busy."
He noticed in her hands were shopping bags full of vegetables and meat for a large meal of some kind. The ingredients could have made a wonderful meal for someone, and he wondered who it may be for.
"I understand, Herr Kommendant." Roon says, putting the bags on the table. "Hug!" She opens her arms to embrace him.
Karl stands up and hugs Roon, who buries him in a tight bear hug. The heavy cruiser had to get on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his chest. Roon was infamous for her brutality on the battlefield and her beautiful hugs. Karl noted these from the Old Commanders' reports. He enjoyed this quirk of hers and, when he wasn't busy repairing the training aids she destroyed or when she wasn't covered in the remains of her enemies from sorties, would always accept a hug from her. The camouflaged Commander did enjoy another pastime with her as well…
He picked her up and twirled her around too much of her glee as she giggled light-heartedly. "You give the best hugs, Herr Kommendant!" She says happily. As he sat her down, she directed him to the shopping bags. "I've noticed you've been working harder than usual, Herr Kommendant! So I'm going to make you a hearty meal! Jaeger schnitzel with homemade spaetzle noodles!"
The excitement in her eyes was usually for something completely different. But it was a welcomed change, and Karl smiled. "I'll let the Royal Maids know I'll be dining with you tonight then." Karl smiled. "What time are you looking at starting this meal?"
Roon's eyes lit up with a fire of love. Karl swore he could see hearts within them. She hugged him again and buried her head in his chest. "2000, Herr Kommendant! At the Iron Blood Café, don't be late!" She said, her tone being soft as butter but cutting like a sharp blade towards the end.
"I swear," Karl says, returning the hug. "Let me handle some things, and I'll be over."
"What all do you have to do? You don't seem busy." Roon asks him.
"Mostly just thinking," Karl says truthfully. "Ms. Belfast gave me a lot to think about today when I went through the budget again. Nothing bad, just trying to help me with you girls."
Roon's face turned grave and jealous, "Like what?" She says flatly.
"Being with you girls. Nothing crazy, just being there for you all." Karl says, oblivious to the darkness in Roon's voice. "I admit I've been closed off from many of you. It's just all the work that I must do here."
Her demeanor changed instantly to calm and playful as she signed quietly with relief. "I understand completely, Herr Kommendant. If you would like, we can talk more over dinner tonight." Roon says to him.
"True," Karl says with an understanding smile as he looks at the bags. "You've got a lot of work ahead of you as well. I'll leave you be then."
Roon smiles warmly and hugs him once more. The heavy cruiser loved to hug people, especially him. "Thank you, Herr Kommendant." She says, kissing him on the cheek.
The infamous Iron Blood heavy Cruiser takes her shopping bags and walks away with joy in her step. Karl put his hand on his cheek and held it there for a second to process what had transpired. Roon was a strange girl, but that could be said about many of the shipgirls of the port. He retook his seat and returned to people-watching while contemplating life again. But unbeknownst to him, the eyes of the 'Best friend squad' were upon his interaction with the fierce Iron Blood heavy cruiser.
"Is he alright?" Javelin asks Nimi as she takes her hands away from her face.
"Ja," Nimi says with relief. "She kissed him on the cheek, though. I wonder what the Kommendant agreed to?"
"It looks like she's cooking for him." Ayanami points out.
"She has been cooking a lot." Nimi agrees. "Frau Roon is a good cook. It is still scary to see her with a knife, though."
"Sleepy…" Laffey groans as she puts her head on the table.
"The Commander is scary looking too." Ayanami remarks looking at his camouflage uniform and black boots.
"He isn't scary." Nimi replies. "The Kommendant is just different. You've seen how Iron Blood is; think of him like that."
"I don't know Nimi-San." Ayanami disagrees. "He didn't flinch when Roon appeared. We've seen what she does to Sirens."
"The Commander may be strange," Javelin says defensively. "But I do not think it's fair or proper of us to judge him based on his appearance. Though you are right to be concerned about him not being scared of Ms. Roon…."
"She isn't anything to be afraid of." The voice of the Commander replied, startling the three awake members of the group. "At least not to me, Ms. Javelin."
"Commander!" The three say in unison with surprise.
"Sorry, ladies." Karl apologizes. "I have a horrible tendency to sneak up on people. I assure you it is unintentional."
Nimi shrugs it off and giggles. The other two were still noticeably uneasy and anxious, wondering how much of their conversation of heard by the Commander. "It's OK, Herr Kommendant."
"What are you all saying about Ms. Roon?" Karl asks them. "Worried she's going to eat me up?"
The joke didn't escape Nimi, who understood his joke due to Iron Bloods' rather dark humor. But the other two did not, and their responses were rather grave. "Beg my pardon, Commander, But do you recall her actions at the last training exercise?"
Karl sighs as he remembers Roon's extraordinarily enthusiastic and brutal decimation of the siren training aids he crafted from old drones. He wasn't happy about her rigging devouring some of them, setting back his training schedule by at least two weeks. But he had to remind himself that it was necessary for the end.
"I do." He says with annoyance in his voice. "I'm still bothered by her actions, I assure you, but at the same time, I have to get to know her to understand her brutal actions. I was once young and overzealous, so maybe I can relate to her and help."
"So you are scared of her?" Ayanami asks, confused about what he is getting at.
"Scared, no," Karl says flatly. "Worried about her, yes. I'm also worried I must build more training aids or pay Akashi's tech team more money. I want you girls to have as many options when it comes to combat training as much as your recreation."
"That's sweet of you, Commander," Javalin says, relieved at hearing his explanation.
"I guess you are right…" Ayanami says, skeptical of the Commander.
"What did Frau Roon have in those bags, Herr Kommandant?" Nimi inquires.
"Dinner," Karl says. "I'll be dining with her tonight at Iron Blood Dorms."
"Did you finish your work?" Nimi asks him pointedly.
"I'm two weeks ahead on paperwork and the port budget," Karl replies. "I'm pretty efficient."
"Please be careful, Commander," Javelin says to him unconsciously. Embarrassed, she covers her mouth and tries to hide behind a sleeping Laffey.
He smiles warmly and moves to the Royal Navy destroyer. To her surprise, she feels his hand on her as he pats her head. "I understand your concerns, Javelin. Do not worry about me, please?" Karl says, smiling.
The off-putting camouflage fatigues, the polished combat boots, and the callouses on his hands were a far cry from the smartly dressed former Commander in her white uniform. The new Commander's hardened gaze replaced the former's soft, warm eyes. But his smile was genuine and confident, giving her some relief. She returns the smile, albeit with some concern over his safety. "I'll be careful. I promise." He says to her before backing away and looking towards Laffey.
"She might need to go to her room. Her face will look like a cheeseburger if she lays there long enough." Karl says, gently shaking Laffey.
"Huh?" Laffey yawns as she awakens.
"Laffey dear," Karl says to her. "Please go to your room. It would be best if you didn't look like you were sleeping on a grill. Nimi, please make sure she completes her work. I don't think Frau Kolin will appreciate Laffey being late on an assignment. Isn't it on anti-submarine operations this week?"
"Jawohl Herr Kommendant." Nimi replies smartly. "Next week are joint operations with Submarines."
"Perfect," Karl says, giving a thumbs up. "I'm working on a communications upgrade for that class. Hopefully, I can get it working before the weekend. Are you or your sisters free for some testing? I would ask Z46, but she needs a break to relax after a hard night of drinking with Graf Zeppelin and Agir. I never thought little Viersechs could keep up with them!"
"I will gladly help you, Herr Kommendant!" Nimi replies enthusiastically to him.
"Perfect!" Karl smiles. "How about you three? I have some of the Sakura Empire subs on standby for sortie, and I think they would like to mix it up a bit."
"Yes…" Laffey agrees.
Javalin and Aynanami look at each other questionably, "We might." Ayanami replies hesitantly. "Amagi-San invited Javalin and me for tea this weekend."
"Ah," Karl replies. "Then give Amagi my regards. Maybe I'll visit after everything is completed. Please pardon my intrusion, though. I'll be on my way."
As he is about to turn away, Karl pauses and looks back at the girls. "Do y'all need anything? How are your rooms? What about life around the port? Anything you all need from me?"
The girls paused and looked at each other puzzled, "What do you mean, Commander?" Aynamami asks him.
He took looked at her oddly as well. "I mean, how are things? Are your living conditions well? Is there anything that needs to be changed around the port, and anything else? Just how is life here."
The girls shake their heads, and the Commander sighs. "Alright then… I'll be asking the rest of the girls here to be sure. Have a wonderful day, girls."
They waved him off, Nimi wishing him an excellent rest of his day. Ayanami laughs at Nimi and looks to Javelin, "Teacher's pet."
Later that Night
Taking a seat at a set table at the Iron Blood café, Commander Karl places his cap on the table and looks around carefully. There were many things the service instilled in him over the years. A healthy paranoia and taking his hat off indoors were two examples of this. He could hear and smell the distinct act of cooking as the popping of fatty meat echoed behind the bar.
"Pork… Breaded…" Karl says in a whisper to himself. "Looks like I'm early…."
His hypothesis seemed correct, but the table itself was already set with a tablecloth and candlelight. "Or just on time." He whispers again.
The Iron Blood was German through and through with their bier gardens, basic food choices, and a rather severe take on life to a point combined with the healthy injection of wanderlust. He noticed the varying personalities within the Iron Blood, which intrigued him with wonder. How can the outwardly cold characters of Bismarck, Tirpitz, and Graf Zeppelin share the ranks as the fiery and combat-centered Scharnhorst, The lethargic Leipzig, and the ever-flirtatious Hipper sisters in their various methods?
Feeling a glare at him, he looked towards the bar to catch Roon peering from the kitchen's entrance. He gave a friendly wave at her, and she smiled only to return to the kitchen.
"You are early Herr Kommandant!" Roon shouts gleefully from the kitchen. "I have only two things to finish, and we will be ready! Stand by, bitte!"
"You said to be early!" Karl replied with a chuckle. "I shall stand by."
Within moments Roon appeared with a plate of fresh Jaeger schnitzel with homemade noodles. She sits the plate down and retrieves five glasses for them. Three went to him, two tall, one tiny, and two to her.
"I noticed you keep two drinks with you when you take your meals," Roon says to him as she sits down. "One is black tea, the other is water, and the third is something special for us: Schnaps."
"A nice toast then," Karl says, taking the small shot glass in hand. "To a wonderful meal."
"To a wonderful meal, Herr Kommendant," Roon says, taking her glass and toasting with him. The shot rolled down his throat smoothly, and he felt it lightly burn. His eyes rolled over Roon and then down to the plate. The shipgirl giggles and taps at the scale, "Don't let your meal get cold, Herr Kommendant."
Cutting into the pork, he noticed Roon's eyes switching between him and the knife cutting into the meat. Taking a bite, he savored the taste of quality bread, mushroom gravy, and fresh noodles. A warm sigh of happiness escapes him as he takes another bite. He puts the fork and knife down to wash it with tea. "This reminds me so much of…."
Roon had taken the fork and knife from him. She cuts another piece and feeds him quickly, "Of what?" She asks, her tone shifting darkly.
Karl swallows another piece and continues, "Reminds me of meals we made at base long ago."
"Here?" Roon inquired, wondering who was making the Kommendant meals.
"No, No," Karl says, catching Roon off guard. "Where I came from, We would cook a lot when we were in the rear area. I remember in a city called…."
He looks up and thinks momentarily but stops himself with a dismissive gaze on his face. "Nevermind. I shouldn't be talking about all that. The war was long ago and didn't affect sweet girls like you."
The heavy cruiser cuts another piece of schnitzel and feeds it to him caringly, "You know you don't have to do this. I can feed myself just fine."
"I know you can, silly," Roon dismissively says as he chews. "I've watched you intensely since you arrived."
"Watching me, eh?" Karl asks, adjusting himself in the chair. The weight of a polymer-framed CZ pistol pressed again his stomach in a custom Kydex holster hidden away.
"Of course! Open wide." She replied warmly, feeding him another piece. "Do you like it?"
He raises his finger to pause her for a moment to take a drink of tea. "I do. The breading and gravy were done well. Yours is a league ahead of what we made long ago."
"Thank you, Mein Kommendant, but yes, I watch you," Roon admits frankly. "You did, after all, replace the other Kommendant. I had to be sure you would fill her shoes, as the Yankees would say, well."
Being the military man he was, he knew someone was watching him. It only made sense to him that some port members would be curious to know what happened to their former commanding officer. But he wasn't keen on someone like Roon watching him for any reason. Her actions in training showed she wasn't someone to take lightly. While she didn't scare him in the slightest, he still was thankful to have eighteen rounds of hollow points hidden on his belt line.
"Afraid I'm not going to live up to her example?" He inquires as Roon gives him a bite of noodles.
"There was not much to live up to," Roon says flatly. "She didn't deserve her position."
"How frank of you to say such things about your former commanding officer," Karl remarks, noting the darkness in her tone. He looked straight into her eye, their gazes never breaking.
"She was more worried about friendships and not war," Roon tells him. "Your eyes speak to me."
Inside her deep brown eyes was a mix of conflicting emotions, but they all seemed to be on fire. This gaze was seen when she was training or, from what records report, in combat. The girl's look seems eerily familiar to him. A handful of shipgirls only rivaled their intensity in port.
She cuts another piece of schnitzel and holds it to his mouth gently. "Open, please."
He takes the bite off the fork, his teeth grazing the metal as Roon pulls it out of his mouth. A gleeful sigh escapes Roon, and her eyes soften, returning to a loving gaze.
"You speak to me in a language only known by us, Herr Kommendant." Roon begins as she sets the knife and fork down. Karl takes them in his hands and continues to eat. She giggles, and to his surprise, he feels her foot squeeze between his legs. A dreamy look takes over her face as her eyes wander up and down his figure.
"The scars hidden away by facial hair, the darkness under and within your eyes, the way you carry yourself, and the gun in your pants." Roon muses as Karl feels her boot tickle his crotch and pistol. "You're not the soft Frau Kommendant of old; you know of war and toil."
"I've felt your gaze on me before," Karl cooly replies as Roon plays footies with his crotch. He places the knife down and gently caresses Roon's leg. "Catching you or Taihou out of the corner of my eye has become a fun game for me."
The comment made her smile sincerely as the Commander's hand ran up and down her leg. "A romantic game of cat and mouse." Her coos became louder as Karl finished the meal. "You feel tense Herr Kommendant. I feel it in your hands."
"Well, between un-fucking the port, Excuse my language, and operational development. I've been under a lot of pressure." Karl admits calmly. "It doesn't help that I feel that the residents don't trust me either."
"Maybe there is something more to it," Roon interjects. "Your tenseness isn't from regular anxiety; I can feel it in your fingertips."
The comment causes him to withdraw his hand and place it on the glass. The Commander takes a drink to appear as if he is just thirsty, but he feels rather uncomfortable at her observation. "Tell me, Herr Kommendant, where did you fight? NA Ocean, PF Ocean, or was it the Mediterranean?"
"Neither," Karl replied briefly. 'She's asking too much… But I can't just leave abruptly. I'm sure if she's been watching, she knows my business. I'll have to play a game with her.'
"I figured as much," Roon responds as she withdraws her foot. She stands up and takes the dirty dishes away from him. "Would you like a beer? Maybe another shot, Herr Kommendant?"
"Both and for you as well," Karl says as he moves to stand. "I'd like to sit at the bar, though. No use in hogging a table."
Roon giggles, "Of course. It is, after all, a busy night."
He laughed more calmly since they were the only two in the café. Though he felt a quick melting in the tension, he kicked himself for going further into Roon's plan. It would have been rude to turn down a drink, let alone a free one.
With her free hand, she spawns a metal claw over it, snuffing out the candlelight and grabbing the searing hot candle sticks.
'Her rigging can spawn on command. Even partially?' He notes as Roon moves to the kitchen.
As she moved behind the bar, he rested against it and looked around at the Iron Blood cafe's collection of liquors and wines on display. Roon's boots clicked against the tile floor again, followed by the sliding of glasses against the wooden bar top. He caught two glasses of schnaps and was soon greeted once more by Roon holding two glasses of bier.
"You are quick, Herr Kommendant." Roon noticed as she set his bier in front of him. "Did you hear me step out of the kitchen?"
"I did," Karl says quietly as he observes the bier for any signs of tampering. Thankfully it appeared normal at a glance, and nothing smelled out of the ordinary from either of the glasses. Maybe he was overthinking again?
"As I said before," Roon began. "You are not like the old Kommendant. She never could hear me or any of the others."
"Be quick or be dead." He replies, raising the glass for another toast.
"Be quick or be dead." She says gleefully as they toast. They were sending another shot of clear spirits down their throats. Her eyes floated around to his uniform, taking in every detail of the strange green uniform. The black horizontal strip shirt took her attention as it reminded her of her brief service in the polar regions.
"Northern Parliament," Roon says, touching the shirt from across the bar. "Were you in the artic?"
"No," he says bluntly as he takes a sip of beer. "It's a standard issue shirt for… Specialized troops. My unit had many of them, and I enjoy having a sleeveless undershirt."
"Ah, interesting," Roon remarks, and she circles her finger on his chest. "I've never seen a uniform like this from navy personnel."
He took another sip and was soon surprised when Roon mounted the bar top. She folds her legs, raising her skit enough to show her smooth thighs and hints of her ass cheek.
"The Northern Parliament Naval infantry units wear something like it, But not exactly." Karl remarks as his eye wander up and down Roon's beautiful figure. "The most I can say is; We were primarily a specialist battalion, Elite Infantry, for any operations. Special forces, mind you."
"No wonder you appear so… exotic…." Roon says as she flips her hair, checking him out more as she backs up slightly.
The heavy cruiser took her bier in hand for a quick drink before putting her free hand behind his neck. The movement made him tense up, and Roon, to his surprise, stopped him and turned herself towards him. "Nein Nein Nein, I want to give you a massage Mein Kommendant." She says to calm him.
Karl takes a breath and returns to his position, "Please ask before doing something like that." He says in a calm yet harsh tone.
"I do not mean you any harm, Mein Kommendant," Roon reassures him, rubbing his neck gently. "I only want to ease your tension. May I do this for you, Mein Kommendant?"
A sight he never thought he would see from the bloodthirsty Roon-Class Heavy Cruiser, Genuine concern.
Her Commander's reaction gave credence to her ideas about his past: He was indeed combat-proven. The actions of defensiveness, the hardness in his gaze, and even how he sat ready to disengage or even reposition to attack made Roon smile wildly at the conflicting ideas of battle and sex with 'Mein Kommendant.'
Karl relents and looks over at Roon. She always gave an unsure aura to her compatriots, but to him, she seemed more like a sweet girl with a dark side. Her hands were free of her rigging, and her eyes showed more lust than he could have imagined. Maybe he didn't need to be so defensive. Perhaps she was being curious and wanted to know more about him.
It was a risk, but it was worth it.
"You may," Karl replies. "No funny business."
The firm tone did not deter her, and Roon began massaging his neck. She was surprisingly thorough with her hands as she massaged every muscle in his neck. Karl relaxes and releases a joyful sigh. With her free hand, Roon playfully hushed herself as she savored the tremendous sigh.
"May I rub your shoulders?" Roon asks.
"Please do," Karl says quietly. She did not hesitate and moved behind him to rub his shoulders. The girl was a master with her hands, as expected from someone who preferred to use her fists in combat. A slight chuckle leaves him as he realizes the humor in the situation, but it flies over Roon's head as she continues.
"Just relax, Mein Kommendant," Roon whispers into his ear. "Give yourself to Roon."
He finishes his drink and begins to feel the effects of the alcohol on his mind. The stiffness started to fade, and he felt looser, relaxed even. Roon felt this as well; his relaxing moans filled her heart with a warm feeling she only really felt in battle. A hot feeling filled her body, making her bolder as her hands passed his collarbone and under his uniform top. She ran her hands over his pectorals and back to his shoulders.
"May I take your tunic off, Mein Kommendant?" Roon whispers in his ear.
Karl chuckles lightly and gently takes one of her free hands. Kissing it gently, he turns to her with a warm smile, "It's the first date, honey, and it's getting late. I've got to head back for some rest." He speaks.
Getting out of his seat, he sees Roon's expression change on a dime to something much darker and foreboding. But, thanks to the booze, he ignores her evil gaze and decides to be bold. He opens his arms and takes Roon in them, but, unlike the other times, he uses a free hand to move her face to his. With his hand gently holding her chin, he looked into Roon's eyes with a gaze that made her melt. She wraps herself around him with arms locked behind his neck, "Kommendant…." Roon whispers as their faces draw closer.
Their lips met and locked in a passionate kiss that made Roon melt. While the kiss lasted less than a minute, it felt like an eternity to the Iron Blood Cruiser. An eternity that she wished would have ended. She grew bolder, and her tongue pierced past his lips like an armor-piercing shell through siren armor. The ferocity of her tongue dancing with his sucked the air out of both. Breaking the kiss, the two breathed heavily without breaking their gaze.
"I wasn't going to leave you empty-handed," Karl says slyly.
"Mein Kommendant. I would exterminate the whole of the sirens for just one more kiss like that." Roon says in a whisper.
"I can't image what you would do for more then." Karl laughs only to be met by Roon's hand reaching right for his crotch.
"More than you will ever realize, Mein Kommendant," Roon says lustfully.
With a smile, he kisses her once more and, reluctantly, breaks away. While she wasn't happy about him not wanting to take things further, she knew he would like more later. Roon touches his lips with her finger tracing them with a bubbly expression, "I can't wait to see what the rest of you tastes like."
"Be patient," Karl tells her, smacking her ass as he collects his hat. "Have a wonderful night Roon."
Walking out of the Iron Blood Café, he fixes his uniform before winking seductively at Roon as he exits. Roon collects the dishes and hums cheerfully as she returns to the kitchen to clean up. As she cleans the dishes, an evil smile takes her face over, "I won't keep you waiting, Mein Kommendant."
The drinks were more potent than he realized as the booze began to hit him. His watch said it was about midnight or 0100; he couldn't tell as he swaggered back to his room. The port was empty, with only a handful of dorms having any signs of life at the witching hour. Long Island and Ayanami doors glowing and flashing from digital duels online were the most pronounced as they shouted at their screens. The weather was getting rather odd with the changing seasons as autumn became winter. A quiet thunder echoed in the distance, signally a storm coming their way.
"Fucking rain." He slurs as he walks forward closer to his building. Turning to walk backward, he watches the storm brewing in the distance. Catching a couple of brief bulbs of lightning in the clouds, he smiles. "If we hadn't had something like that when Hadrian was with us, we would have…."
Karl stopped as his mood began to shift. The booze started swirling in his mind as well as his stomach. The memories began to flicker in front of his mind of a not-too-distant time. He shuts his eyes and shakes his head violently to erase them. "No… No… Stop thinking of it, old man. That was long ago… They aren't here anymore. You left that." He muttered to himself as he marched to his building.
"You can't expect me to leave you!" The voice of a young girl shouts to him.
"I gave you an order! Get on the Kamov!" He shouts back to her.
"Death before dishonor! I'm your blade!" The voice of the girl cries.
"Not for you…"
"Fucking hell…" He sighs as he reaches the stairs to the Commander's quarters. The storm's thunder grows louder as black clouds envelop the stars above. Only the moon's light remained as a source of peace as the thunderous storm brought about war. Staggering up the stairs he hears their haunting voices again with each step.
"Major! They're ripping us- AAHHHHH!"
"Comrade Major, we have to launch n-"
"I won't leave your side, my dear friend!"
"SPEARS ARE IN THE AIR!"
A roar echoed throughout the port as the storm took center stage, lighting up the whole grounds. Bolts of lightning struck the sea and mountains as if Zeus was cursing the unworthy and unfaithful below. The blinding white light overloaded his senses, and he tried to cover his eyes, but another bolt struck the anchor at the center of the campus. From the light, he could make out the figure of a ghostly woman dressed in scorched rags. Karl couldn't make out her face, but before he could process it, she appeared directly in front of him, shrouded in an aura of electric light. The figure punched him square in the chest, sending him flying through the front door and landing square on his stomach on the tile floor. The adrenaline burned the alcohol out of his system, and his instincts kicked in as he quickly turned to his back to draw his pistol.
But then, as quickly as she appeared, she was gone. The door shut on its own as the bottom fell out of the sky blanketing the port in heavy rain. Lighting flashed in the windows as the rain hammered the glass. As he began to take back control of his body, he fell back onto the floor, dropping his pistol next to him as he hyperventilated and his heart raced. Laying in the dark, he tried to get his sense back.
The amber light of a lamp bathed him in serenity as the tapping of Royal Navy maid shoes echoed around him. To his surprise, two of them came to the sounds of chaos: Belfast and Sheffield.
The latter took a more defensive posture with a pistol in hand while Belfast rushed to aid her Master.
"Master!" Belfast shouts in concern. "What happen to you?!"
Karl looked around, surveying the area, trying to process what exactly had transpired. He took his pistol and put it back in his waistband holster. Collecting himself, he was aided back up by the waiting Belfast. "I don't know." He said in a defeated tone. "I don't know at all."
Belfast noted that she was holding his hand tightly. While the smell of alcohol was prevalent on him, his pupils were tiny and racing from side to side, looking for something. His heart was racing so much she could feel his hand twitching. Over the two months, she's been the Commander's maid, she never saw this look of genuine fear in his eyes.
"You smell like alcohol and Iron Blood." Sheffield remarks rudely.
"I'm quite drunk, and Roon did try to get frisky, which I will not deny," Karl replies bluntly. "But even at home, I never stumbled into my own quarters. Something…."
He groaned as Belfast set him on his feet. "Something… I don't know. I'll be going to my quarters."
"Please tell me you can walk on your own, Master." Sheffield remarks with a monotone.
"I can walk on my own, Ms. Sheffield," Karl replies with a smile. Belfast looks at him with a worried look as he begins walking to his room. She tries to follow him, only for Sheffield to stop her with a rude comment.
"Please reframe from waiting on this one like you did the last Commander." Sheffield insists. "This is his first infraction with the maids by my count, and I'm enjoying how clean I'm able to keep this place."
Belfast shoots her a stern glare. "A Maid is dedicated to her Master and serves him wholeheartedly. While I do admit I enjoy his cleanliness as is, I'm still going to perform my duties as the Head maid."
"It is obvious that you care more than that," Sheffield replies as she holsters her Webley. "Don't let that heart of yours cloud your judgment."
She immediately ignores the comment and changes the subject: "Something scared him. Did you not see it in his eyes?"
"The Browning on the ground was enough to sign for me," Sheffield replies. "I'm going to sweep the grounds in the meantime. Maybe you should check on the toy soldier?"
Toy Solider, Sheffield's pet name for their new Commander. The title annoyed her, but it was appropriate, considering he was not a Navy man. "Please reframe from that name, Ms. Sheffield."
Sheffield rolls her eyes and begins her patrol.
Swaggering to his room, he threw his door open and stripped to his drawers. Putting his uniform on the basket and gun at the night table, he went through his routine before bed. He was washing his face and trying to calm down before bed. His heart was still racing, and the image of the scorched woman burned into his mind. Splashing more water on his face, "She couldn't have come here. I sent her… I ordered…. No… There isn't a way… Go to sleep old man…" He says to himself in a troubled voice. Karl leaves the bathroom, throws himself into bed, and falls asleep.
Belfast watched him do this without his knowledge and entered the room quietly. She sits on the edge of the bed next to him. Pulling the covers up to his shoulder to tuck him in, she puts her hand on him to comfort him. "I don't know what you saw. But whatever it is, please talk to me, Master."
