Chapter 4 - Of Steel and Shadows

Tirpitz

Wednesday, March 20th, 1946
17:58
Headquarters, Ares Division Briefing Room

The briefing room, typically brightly lit, was dimmed, casting long shadows over the faces of the gathered officers and Kansen. Conversations hummed in the background, but there was an undercurrent of tension beneath the quiet murmur, an awareness of what was to come. In the center of the room, a massive map stretched across the floor, littered with many red and blue the Kansen and human officers gathered around it had their own conversations, their eyes kept glancing towards the map and what it represented: the Pacific Theater.

Tirpitz sat at the head of the Iron Blood section, her posture rigid, eyes fixed on the map. Beside her, Z23 remained dutifully silent as the destroyer once again took over the role of assistant, casting only occasional glances at her commander. Tirpitz's gaze swept over the islands scattered across the vast, empty ocean. Three locations were specially marked with tall, red flags, highlighting them amongst the other markers. The briefing hadn't yet begun, but she felt the weight of her role settling over her like an anchor.

She was the Iron Blood flagship in the Pacific, and her presence in this room carried the same weight as the steel of her hull.

It always did.

A sharp cough cut through the murmur. The briefing officer, a grizzled, stern man with graying hair and a clipped mustache, stepped forward. A single, silver eagle was pinned to each of his shoulders. His presence alone commanded attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, voice low but firm, "I apologize for the urgency of this briefing, but war doesn't wait for our convenience."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Eleven hours ago, the Sirens launched a massive offensive against the Sakura Empire's homeland. Reports are still coming in, but what we know is grim. Their cities are under siege, their factories are being bombed, and their Kansen are massively outnumbered. The Sirens mean to wipe them out for good."

A heavy silence fell over the room, punctuating the severity of his words. Tirpitz could feel the unspoken tension rise, a shared understanding of the stakes.

"However," he continued, his voice like steel, "this presents us with an opportunity. While the Sirens focus their forces on the other side of the Pacific, we strike here. Should we fail, the Sakura Empire falls. And we will be next."

He pointed at the map, specifically at the three red marks. "These island chains—Polynesia, the Galapagos Islands, and Hawai'i—are less defended than we expected. Securing them will give us the foothold we need in the Pacific."

At the mention of Hawai'i, a ripple of shock passed through the Eagle Union's Kansen. Tennessee shifted in her seat, her jaw tight, only held back by Bremerton's firm grip on her arm.

"Operation Behemoth's Bane," the officer continued, ignoring the reaction, "will relieve the Sakura Empire and push back the Siren threat. It is a critical operation, one that will reshape the rest of the war. And these islands will be our opening move."

Tirpitz's focus sharpened, her gaze narrowing on the islands. The briefing officer's words pressed down on her like the weight of the ocean itself, yet also resonated within her. And from the corner of her eyes, she could tell that the other Kansen in the room felt the same way.

"The Galapagos will be our first target," he said, jabbing a finger at the map. "Their proximity to the Panama Canal makes them a threat to our supply lines. After that, we move to Polynesia, then Hawai'i."

Tirpitz nodded, her eyes hardening with determination. The briefing officer's words resonated within her, and from the corner of her eyes, she could tell that the other Kansen in the room felt the same way.

"As for boots on the ground, Azur Lanes Ares Division will be deployed. Their first and second Brigade will be deployed first, with the third brigade partially acting as reserves and handling logistics. That'll amount to just under 10'000 men and women."

"As for the Kansen, they will of course play a crucial role in this operation." He looks up, his eyes resting on Tirpitz. "Iron Blood's role is clear. You will soften up the Siren fortifications before the landing. Support the infantry with precise artillery strikes. Your firepower will open the path for them."

Tirpitz gave a curt nod. "Verstanden, Oberst." Her voice was steady, though the weight of the task bore down on her. This was what she was designed for, what she was created for. She was a tool, an instrument of war. It was her duty to unleash her formidable firepower, to shatter the enemy's defenses and fortifications, to pave the way for victory.

The briefing continued as the officer laid out the roles for the other Kansen. Tirpitz listened, absorbing the specifics of the operation, the delicate dance of coordination between humans and Kansen. She noted with some relief that the Eagle Union would also support the landings, while the Royal Navy would patrol the deeper waters. The old rivalries simmered under the surface, but at least they wouldn't be directly at odds during this operation. Still, the uneasy alliance left a sour taste in her mouth.

'Why do we still hold onto these old grudges?' she wondered briefly, the same thought as she already had one breakfast before dismissing it. The war didn't allow for such distractions.

As the briefing officer went deeper into the complex logistics, the intricate timings, and the crucial need for unwavering coordination, Tirpitz felt a flicker of anxiety. A memory of Operation Nordwind, a memory she had thought buried in a dream weeks ago, flickered in her mind. Unbidden, it clawed its way to the surface.

"-The merciless wind blows freezing rain into her face as she stands at the front of her hull-"

" -she sees the shores of a lifeless beach. Waves upon waves of human soldiers disembark from tiny boats onto the wet sand, only to be mowed down by plasma-"

"-gaze is drawn to a man whose uniform is different from an Iron Bloo-"

'No,' she thought, banishing the memory, pushing it back down into the depths of her subconsciousness. Her grip tightened on the edge of the table, fingers pressing into the wood. She wouldn't allow fear to consume her. She wouldn't falter from the heavy burden of responsibility. She wouldn't fail her comrades. She wouldn't let the failures of her past happen again.

As she reached for a glass of water on the table, a small tremor ran through her arm. The glass shook minutely in her hands, though she quickly forced it down before anyone could notice.

The briefing concluded with a finality that left no room for doubt. "We leave port in 24 hours," the officer declared. "We must not fail. We will not fail."

With the briefing concluded, Tirpitz stood up. She had to brief her own girls and decide who would come with her.

"Come on, Nimi," Tirpitz said to Z23 with an even voice. "Let's gather the others. We need to prepare."

She turns and heads towards the door. Z23 followed her quietly. Unknown to the battleship, the little destroyer was watching her with a conflicted expression.

While everyone else missed it, she didn't.

She noticed that tiny, momentary tremor in her arm. Saw the miniscule, little waves in that glass of water.

And she was concerned for her oldest friend.

Z26

Thursday, March 21th, 1946
15:47
Bay of San Pablo

Z26 stood on the deck of her destroyer, gazing out over the vast expanse of San Francisco Bay. The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of salt and anticipation. The late afternoon sun bathed the harbor in a lightly golden glow, its warmth reflecting off her hull as she took in the sight before her—a spectacle unlike anything she had ever seen. Thousands upon thousands of human soldiers swarmed the docks, loading onto transport ships, their uniforms a mosaic of green, gray, brown, and even some camouflage here and there.

Awakened as a Kansen only weeks ago, Z26's experience with warfare had been limited to drills and training with fellow Kansen and small-scale skirmishes with Siren forces. This, though, was something entirely different. The scale of the human operation was staggering. She had never seen so many soldiers gathered in one place, so many moving parts in a war machine she could barely comprehend. It was a testament to their unwavering courage and remarkable organizational prowess.

Her purple eyes swept across the completely chaotic, yet finely coordinated scene. Sailors loaded neatly stacked crates of food and ammunition onto transport ships, while trucks rumbled to and from the docks, seemingly on random schedules. Soldiers lined up in orderly columns, checking their equipment, while others hurried to unknown destinations, weaving through the sea of people. She even spotted tanks rumbling aboard strange-looking vessels, swallowed whole by the behemoth landing craft. It was a world of logistics and preparation that made her feel small.

Z26 leaned against the railing, her gaze drifting from ship to ship. Each vessel seemed to absorb hundreds of soldiers, their forms minuscule in comparison to the towering hulls of steel and machinery. 'So many of them…' A sense of awe crept over her. She had known, intellectually, that human warfare relied on numbers. But witnessing it like this, witnessing the sheer magnitude of their mobilization, was something entirely different.

She was just one Kansen, one destroyer. And yet, here were thousands of human soldiers, each one willing to face unimaginable danger. Did they feel the same weight of responsibility she did, or were their minds occupied with simpler thoughts—fear, excitement, camaraderie?

In her brief time as a Kansen, Z26 had grown accustomed to the intimacy of naval warfare. Ships and Kansen fought in small, decisive battles, where individual firepower often turned the tide. But this—this was grander, larger, and far more intricate than any fleet engagement. Even if every single Kansen who was ever created joined into one united fleet, their numbers would be dwarfed. And each soldier had a role, a duty, and they all relied on one another in ways she could only begin to understand. A shared bond connected them, something forged by more than just orders.

'Could the Sirens really stop something like this?' she mused, watching a line of soldiers as they marched aboard a transport ship. The sight stirred something within her; a naive belief, perhaps, that the sheer size of this force would be enough to guarantee victory. How could anyone, anything, stand against such a massive, determined force? She shook her head, amazed at the thought.

Her ship drifted slowly closer to the transport vessels, carried by the gentle current as her attention remained fixed on the soldiers. Some of them had started to notice her presence. A few men at the edge of the dock, dressed in gray uniforms and about to board one such vessel, waved up at her. Z26 blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected attention.

For a moment, she hesitated, unsure of how to respond. These soldiers: they looked so different from the other Kansen she had interacted with. She had never spoken to them, never fought alongside them, and yet… there was something endearing about their gestures. Slowly, she raised her hand, returning their wave with a shy, uncertain motion.

One of the soldiers grinned broadly, flashing her a thumbs-up. Another let out a cheer, the sound faint but unmistakable as it carried across the distance. Z26 felt her cheeks flush slightly, warmth blooming inside her. She didn't know why, but the simple, friendly gesture from these soldiers, these humans, brought her a sense of connection she hadn't expected.

'They're brave,' she thought, awed at their infectious enthusiasm.

As the last of the soldiers boarded the transport ship, Z26 gently steered her ship further away from the docked ships.

How embarrassing would it be, if a Kansen crashed into parked vessels only because she was distracted by something? And in front of thousands of people!

Yet as she moved further away from the bustling dock, the air grew quieter, the organized chaos fading in the distance. Z26 took a final glance at the harbor, at the rows of ships and the masses of soldiers. Despite the overwhelming force gathered before her, a strange unease settled in her chest.

She didn't understand it; there was no reason to doubt the success of the operation with so many involved. After all, there are thousands of soldiers! Sure, they were weaker than her, but how much could a single human really be weaker compared to a Kansen?

Yet the feeling persisted, like a shadow lurking just beyond her consciousness.

'There's no way we can fail!' she told herself.

'...right?'

With a deep breath, Z26 turned her attention back to her own duties. They were set to sail in two hours, and there were still things to prepare.

Yet the image of those soldiers, smiling and waving at her, stayed with her. She went about her work with a warm expression, the feeling of their camaraderie still fresh in her heart.

Lt. Ledger

Thursday, March 21th, 1946
18:14
Passing the 'Golden Gate'

I stood on the deck of the troop transport, leaning against the railing as the ship cut through the cold waters of the Bay. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a dull, fading light over the wrecked remnants of the Golden Gate Bridge. Once a proud symbol of human engineering, it now was twisted and broken, a silent reminder of the destruction this war had brought. Yet the pillars refused to fall, reaching defiantly towards the darkening sky. Beneath my boots, I could feel the low rumble of the ship's engines as we pulled further from shore, the ruined city slowly shrinking behind us.

But my eyes weren't on the city. They were fixed on the shadow looming in the distance, dark and massive. Tirpitz. Her imposing form cut through the water like a silent guardian, her guns ready and her presence unmistakable even from this distance. She sailed ahead of the convoy, a constant reminder of the power that lay just beyond our reach, and the danger that always seemed to be closing in.

I watched her, lost in thought, until something about the sight of her triggered a memory. It hit me like a punch in the gut; a sharp, vivid flash of something I'd not thought about for a long time. A blink was all it took, and I was back there again.

The cold, rainy beach was chaos, the air thick with gunfire, explosions, and the piercing screams of the wounded. Iron Blood Infantry were either huddled behind thick, heavy cover, or laid out in the open, slaughtered by the Siren's weapons. My squad and I, one of the few Eagle Union soldiers that had survived in Europe for this long, were pinned down on the ice, trapped under a relentless Siren plasma gun emplacement that had us dead to rights. The cold bit at my exposed skin, the smell of burnt flesh filled my nose, and I know, this is it. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and with each passing second, a new stream of purple plasma brought us closer to the end.

Then I heard it. That roar. It wasn't like anything else on the battlefield; it was deeper, louder, like the sky itself was tearing apart. A 380mm shell came out of nowhere, whistling through the air before slamming into the Siren position. One second, the gun emplacement was ripping us apart, and the next—it was gone. Obliterated.

The ground shook beneath us, the shockwave hitting with the force of a sledgehammer. I lift my head, heart pounding in my chest, and see nothing but a smoking crater where the Siren gun had been. One shell from Tirpitz, fired from somewhere far off in the dark sea, had wiped it out. It was over, just like that.

She saved us. Saved me. And I feel… small. The power she unleashed with that single shot - it leaves me in awe, yes, but also terrified. What kind of being could do that? One shell, and it was like the Sirens had never been there. She could destroy anything, anyone, with that kind of force.

I pull out of the memory, my hands trembling. Grabbing the railing firmly, I try to center myself again.

I breathe in. I breathe out.

I feel the cold metal in my hand.

I taste the salt of the ocean on my tongue.

I smell the clean air, tinged with a distant smell of cigarettes in my nose.

I hear the ship parting the water as it travels, and the wind in my ears.

I finally open my eyes and find myself back on the transport ship with Tirpitz, once again, looming in the distance. Shuddering, I let out a deep breath, and my grip on the railing loosens a little.

"You back with us?" a voice asks quietly from a distance, catching me off guard. I quickly spin around, tensing, only to find Nina standing a few meters away, looking at me with an expression of both wary and understanding.

"Yeah," I reply, relaxing a little upon recognizing her, "I am."

She takes a deep drag from her cigarette, before walking towards me and joining me at the railing, looking out towards the water with me. She rummages through her pocket, before pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

"Anyone ever told you smoke too much?" I say, breaking the silence between us.

She pulls out the last cigarette of the pack and holds it out to me. "It's not for me, idiot."

"I don't smoke," I say, but take the offered cigarette and put it between my lips. We lean towards each other, and I light my cigarette on her already lit cigarette. Once it lights up, I pull back, and take a deep drag. The hot smoke flows into my lungs, stinging my throat. But the pain is a reminder, further anchoring me into the present.

As I let out my first breath, watching the smoke dissipate in the air, Nina speaks up.

"How often?"

"Less than others," I reply. "Guess I'm just lucky."

We stand there in silence, the crackle of burning tobacco barely audible amongst everything. just watching the ships move.

My eyes slowly wander back to Tirpitz' imposing form, and my mind begins to wander.

Without the Kansen, without Tirpitz, this war would have been lost long ago. Not only were they strong enough to fight back the Sirens at sea, their entrance came at a time when most had almost given up. Yet today, their mere presence inspires the troops, like living symbols of strength, power and hope.

'But what does that power mean for the rest of us?'

I couldn't shake the question. Tirpitz saved us that day, just as she's saved countless others. But that power, that sheer, destructive power she wields. It's terrifying. One Kansen, and she could level a battlefield, wipe out an army, change the course of a war. But do they, does she, understand what it's like to be human in this war? Do they feel the same fear, the same loss, that we do? Do they grieve for fallen soldiers, or are they too far removed from it all, like gods among mortals?

As the transport ship moves further out to sea, the ruins of the Bay fade into the horizon. The broken bridge, so large when we sailed by it, was now just a small, jagged outline against the sky. I flick the glowing stump of my cigarette overboard, watching the small, red glow fall all the way before disappearing beneath the waves. The war wasn't over. Not by a long shot. And whatever came next, it was going to push us all to the brink. This alliance, fraught with tension as it was, might be our only hope. But hope didn't guarantee victory.

I glanced at Tirpitz one last time, her silhouette still cutting across the water. And I felt it again; gratitude for her protection, and a deep, gnawing fear of the power she represented. With a heavy sigh, I straightened up, pushing those doubts aside.

"Ready to head in?" I ask Nina. She gives me a searching look, but a few seconds later she nods, and crushes her cigarette beneath her boots. Without another word, the two of us head into the ship back towards the rest of our platoon.

Whatever came next, there was no turning back. The storm was coming, and we'd have to face it together - human and Kansen alike. Whether we could weather it… only time would tell.

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