"I see you've finally decided to join us, little trollop," South Dakota declared dispassionately, standing at the foot of Thorson's bed aboard her ship with two destroyers, one to each hand. In her left was Yukikaze, who'd taken some oil or soot from her engines to coat her face, tail, and ears. Joining the black cat, who was grumbling about how they could have executed so many more elaborate Halloween pranks than getting into Shikikan's pants, was Duke of York's 'daughter'.

"Unhand me, thou vile ruffian! I am the night! I am darkness itself! Thou canst hope to contain me! Thine comeuppance for this embarrassment shall be swift as the-"

"Yes yes, says the little tart who couldn't even manage to get him out of his underwear," the buxom battleship replied tiredly, watching as Thorson sat up and rubbed his eyes, still bleary with sleep given the late night hour. "My apologies, Commander. They were… a tad stealthier than usual. I have already asked Arizona to come collect her charge."

Yukikaze perked up at the mention of her 'master', tail straight with fear. "N-now let's not be unreasonable, nanoda! We were just celebrating the holiday, boosting morale for Shikikan! There's no need to involve-"

"Me? Good evening little cat. Hi, Andrew," Arizona called sweetly from the doorway, having responded swiftly to her comrade's summons as the whole fleet, along with an armada of Royal warships and troop transports, sailed south to rendezvous with the Western Task Force. "If you want a quiet evening together, there's always my hull. I'm sorry about her."

"I'm more worried about the Lady Belfast," he replied, referring to the diversion convoy that was hopefully drawing Ironblood U-boats out into the Atlantic and away from their transports.

The man felt at a disadvantage laying in bed while surrounded by kansen. South Dakota blushed softly as he stood, but a scantily clad Thorson was a common enough sight for Arizona. The older Union battleship tittered with laughter as Yukikaze covered her eyes at the sight of the man's underwear.

"Yukikaze the Great is sorry, nanoda! She will only prank fully clothed Shikikan in the future!" she promised, unable to both shield her gaze and claw at South Dakota's hand at the same time. Arizona relieved her of the burden, slinging the destroyer over her shoulder and giving her a light swat on the rear.

"We are going into battle, Yuki. You will save all of your pranks for the enemy," she insisted firmly before greeting Vampire. "It's been a while. My sister mentioned you were well."

"G-good evening," the Royal destroyer replied before remembering that she was 'the night'. "I-I mean, thou art right to address me with such politeness! At least some of these Union scoundrels doth remember their etiquette!"

"Should I throw her overboard?" South Dakota requested, patience wearing thin as Vampire began to poke her in the face with her spade-tipped tail. Arizona intervened once more as Thorson rubbed his stubbled chin and yawned, of half a mind to approve the order.

"I'll handle it, Dakota," she promised kindly as Vampire was set back on the floor. Grabbing the girl by one of her tiny wings, Arizona dragged her out of the captain's chambers, reprimanding the two of them as she went. "Now I understand cats and bats are big fans of Halloween, but a young lady like you shouldn't be running around in a nurse's outfit like that. Which field hospital did you steal it from, anyway?"

Thorson and South Dakota looked silently at one another until Vampire's protestations about her 'delicate wings' faded and they were left alone. The battleship cleared her throat uncomfortably, speaking over the occasional squeak or groan of her hull as she cut through the steel-gray waters of the northern Atlantic. "To the extent I imagined it at all, this was not how I envisioned first getting you mostly undressed and alone."

"I'm sorry. She means well, I think," Thorson said of Vampire. South Dakota waved it off.

"Duke of York was annoyingly vague about her arrival, but now she is here," she stated simply before looking out one of the portholes that lined one side of the room. The Shiranui and Kasumi could be seen glowing brightly in the night where they made up one flank of Thorson's escort fleet, protecting carriers and battleships from the submarine threat. She saluted him before departing, one of his dress shirts covering her upper body instead of her usual, skimpy black top. She'd requested it for the cooler nights. "A blessed All Hallow's Eve to you, sir. This war has created many spirits looking for their final rest."

Thorson frowned as she closed the door quietly behind her. "And it's barely gotten started."

"Commandant, to what do I owe the honor?" Forbin asked him the next morning, bowing deeply before moving to join him for a quick breakfast on the bridge of the South Dakota. November 1st had dawned bright and cold, and his flagship had departed to join her fellow natives for morning exercises once seeing Forbin to him. That gave them time to eat and talk uninterrupted. He gestured to the simple plate of eggs and toast, accompanied by coffee.

"I did warn you about the food," he replied with a chuckle. She shook her head.

"Not at all, monsieur. I spoke briefly with your head chef as we traveled to Clyde and she is most passionate about food! She reminds me of… better times," the Iris squire trailed off, eyes suddenly downcast. Thorson took a guess.

"The rift between the Templars?"

Forbin nodded as she took a fork of eggs and chewed carefully, swallowing fully before replying. "Dunkerque was always baking something when we weren't on duty. Some of the other destroyers indulge in her pastries a bit too much if you ask me, let themselves get soft around the belly. But we were one force, one company of knights."

Thorson nodded sympathetically, thinking of the rift that had formed within the Sakura between those loyal to the gods and those who had followed Akagi and Kaga. "I apologize for asking, but I wanted to hear the story directly from someone within the Orthodoxy. Not sure how much I can trust the Royal Navy to give me accurate intel on the subject, especially given the operations against Richlieu in the Pacific."

As Forbin looked at him aghast, he quickly clarified. "So far as I know it ended in a standoff and her whereabouts are unknown. She wasn't sunk. That's all I learned from Ark Royal."

"That is… a relief. At least there is still hope then," Forbin murmured before launching into the story. "You are my Commandant now, so there is value in your knowing, especially since we stand against the Black Templar."

"Jean Bart's faction?" Thorson asked. Forbin confirmed with a nod of her head.

"Oui. It all started with the Ironblood Field Marshall, Rommel. We should have known better. He saw the horrors of The Great War first hand. I even heard some of the older knights mention that he was at the Argonne, but I do not know for sure. We tried to warn the armies of the Orthodoxy that there was no way such a man would sacrifice his tanks attacking Maginot, but they did not listen. It seems that some soldiers on both sides refused to learn the lessons of that conflict. We may not be the best of allies, but I respect Her Majesty immensely for her service."

"That's good to hear," Thorson told her genuinely, happy to know that at least for the time being there was unlikely to be a 'cross-channel' spat between his forces. "So the blitzkrieg was a success and your leaders had to act quickly?"

"Correct again, Commandant," Forbin confirmed after a sip of coffee. "This is not bad! Ah, excusez-moi. Oui. We were all caught off guard as the armed forces of the Orthodoxy were pulled in every direction at once. It soon became apparent that Paris would fall, and the arguments began even before the evacuations from Dunkirk. General Richelieu wanted to entreat the Royals for aid, to flee, regroup, and then rejoin the fight against the Ironblood. Her second in command, Captain Jean Bart, recoiled at the idea of leaping from the lap of one enemy into that of another. She believed in the course laid out by the Vichy, accepting temporary surrender as a way to rest and recoup our strength before striking back at the right moment. In the end… it seems neither were correct. Richelieu was betrayed by the Royal Navy after a secret mission to the Maple Monarchy, and the Black Templar fleet still rests idle in Toulon."

"And Toulon is deep within enemy territory," Thorson finished, more than capable of imagining how treacherous a journey through the western Mediterranean would be if Gneisenau and Scharnhorst had full control of Tunis. He rubbed his chin and looked out at the southern horizon. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Forbin smiled faintly. "There is nothing you or I could do about it, until now. All I can do is pray the future will be different and continue to hone my skills. Speaking of which, I know that mademoiselle Sheffield was a tad brusque but there is great value in studying the art of sword and shield. With your permission, I could use a partner or two to shake off the rust of captivity."

Thorson considered her proposal for a moment before nodding and leaning to one side, grabbing the mouthpiece for South Dakota's radio and sending a general missive to the fleet. "All kansen under my command are advised that Forbin, Sheffield, Hiryuu, Tennessee, and Z23 will be leading exercises in hand to hand combat beginning today and continuing until the invasion of Africa. I encourage everyone to participate, learn, and improve your skills both with rigging and conventional weaponry. Top performers will be given first consideration for future boarding or infiltration operations."

Forbin blinked in amazement as he turned back to her. "Y-you want me to-"

"Nothing quite like exchanging blows to bring a fleet of five factions together," Thorson surmised as he sipped his coffee. "It's also a good chance for the girls to get used to sudden changes in orders."

"Ah, yes I suppose that's fair. Thank you for the trust you've placed in me," Forbin said as she finished her breakfast and listened to several kansen asking for clarification of Thorson's statement via radio. Hiryuu needed no such help, however.

"Alright everyone, fight club on my flight deck! Be there or be square!"

"Knight Commander! Let us talk," Queen Elizabeth commanded him as Thorson ascended to Hiryuu's flat top to survey his fleet in action. The destroyers, cruisers, and battleships had gotten together and formulated a rotation so that the fleet would always be screened by sonar and radar. Meanwhile the carriers continued their air patrols, offering a wide scouting envelope to the convoy. Those who weren't on recon duty gathered at 'Hiryuu's place', either to fight or spectate. Even Bismarck had made it over, watched over closely by the rest of the kansen. Near as Thorson could tell, the Ironblood battleship was taking a record of each battle, joined by a particularly stern looking manjuu that Thorson didn't recognize as one of Shiranui's.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he replied as Warspite crossed her straight blade with the subtle curve of Soryuu's katana. He wasn't the only one looking on in awe. The rules of engagement seemed to forbid rigging for that particular fight, though he saw Javelin sparring with Indianapolis further down the deck with full compliments on display. "Your sister is impressive."

"As is her opponent. You Yanks are too reliant on your guns. There is no substitute for cold steel," Elizabeth stated confidently. Thorson held his tongue. It was no secret that Union soldiers weren't exactly well versed in the art of the blade, and his fleet's tactics relied upon relatively ancient methods of combat as well. "My other sister, Valiant, has been busy."

Thorson accepted a short telegram from her, reading out operation codenames that meant nothing to him. "Ironclad… Stream Line Jane?"

"The operation codes for the landing and land invasion of Madagascar, formerly controlled by the Vichya Dominion and now by the Royal Empire," Elizabeth stated proudly. "Valiant orchestrated the shore bombardment and landings before leading a company of soldiers ashore. That was the last I heard from her until now. It seems she's draped herself in glory, as we must."

"That's good news," Thorson replied neutrally, considering for a moment that his forces that remained in the Pacific might be able to link up with Royal Navy forces in Madagascar if they managed to secure bases in Southeast Asia. "I'm more concerned with victory than glory, however."

"Let me assure you, Knight Commander, they are one and the same," the leader of the Royals contested as Warspite split her blade into two and charged at Soryuu anew, catching the lapine carrier completely off-guard as Sir Raleigh did his best to chirp a fearsome warcry. "There was no glory to be found during Gallipoli or Pedestal. Watching Eagle go down, attacked by Sardegna frogmen," Lizzie spat distastefully. "The old stories of valiant last stands, the three hundred Spartans at Thermopylae, the Swiss Guard at the Vatican, the samurai at Shiroyama… I suppose the Swiss Guard at least managed to save the life of the Pope before being massacred. War isn't like that anymore. The Great War changed everything. Honorable men were slaughtered by the millions."

"What of the Lost Battalion?" Thorson challenged her lightly, buttoning up his overcoat as a chill wind blew over them from the west. Elizabeth looked up at him and smirked.

"To your nation's credit, their options were surrender or death… and they chose victory. Lady Hood showed me what I have to do, but I need to know that you have the strength to do it. Tell me, Knight Commander, have you ever killed a man before?"

Thorson stood stock still as he remembered the death of Nachi. "I assume you mean close enough to see, pulling the trigger myself? No, I haven't. But I listened to a girl's final moments trapped on her burning bridge as her hull sunk in the middle of the Pacific. I was not being flippant when I assigned Warspite command of the Royal forces within my fleet, but you will not question my resolve again, not without cause."

Elizabeth looked him up and down for a second before nodding to herself. "As you say, Knight Commander. I look forward to breaking the Ironblood and Sirens at your side then. Would you care to join me and my sister for tea? It looks like she's about done."

The two of them watched as Warspite's relentless, double bladed assault kept the deliberate, reserved Soryuu on the defensive until her guard finally broke. As the neutral referee, Z23 fired a blank from her rigging to signal the end of the match. Thorson smiled and Elizabeth chuckled in disbelief as Warspite pulled off a glove and helped Soryuu stand back up, despite the carrier being almost a foot taller than she. "Now that is a sight I never thought I'd see again, not since the Crimson Axis broke away from Azur Lane."

"If the Union and Sakura can get along, all things are… probably possible," Thorson replied with a hint of humility, considering that the rifts between Royals, Iris, and Ironblood might be even more formidable than the one he'd overcome in the Pacific. Warspite walked over to them as Forbin squared away against Sheffield.

"Ah, Knight Commander! Did you enjoy the match? Come, let's review the maps and plan out the shore bombardment!" she suggested as she met Lizzie's eye. "Over tea, of course. I suppose we'll have to see to it ourselves with Lady Belfast absent?"

"Just another chance to prove ourselves on the field of battle!" Elizabeth insisted, somehow conjuring a teapot along with her rigging as she looked for a sheltered area to set up near Hiryuu's command tower. "Let Belfast handle those damned U-boats. They'll wish they'd attacked us when they find her."

November 2nd, 22:30 hours - The outskirts of El Alamein

"Good evening, Erwin," the cold, calculating voice came from just outside the Nazi officer's command tent. "Having a bit of trouble with those Royal armored divisions, are you? Some of them are even colonial in origin."

Rommel tilted his head, lowering his Luger as the soldiers posted within also returned their submachine guns to resting positions. "Gneisenau, not even in my most desperate hour would I assent to the augmentation of my soldiers."

"Then you misunderstand my purpose for being here," the battle cruiser stated shortly, their conversation punctuated by the occasional rumbling of tanks or artillery as the second battle of El Alamein entered an evening lull. "Unlike Deutschland I understand the potential of men who can think clearly and independently. That doesn't change the fact that the Sardegnian divisions are crumbling and it's only a matter of time before the Royals smash your lines and force your infamous Panzer Korps into retreat."

The seasoned commander grimaced at her as she folded her arms over her buxom chest. "As though killing the Führer and his chiefs of staff was not enough, now you come to mock me?"

The kansen laughed without any trace of humor. "Friedrich der Grosse and the others only did what you would have done, given the opportunity, Erwin. Do not lie to me, not now when the Allies are knocking at our Western door."

"The fact you did not participate in that bloodbath is the only reason we are talking at this moment," Rommel replied coldly. "Say your piece."

"Our scouts have identified a massive landing force and armada headed past Spain. The only possible landing zone for all those troops is North Africa. The man who destroyed the Sakura Navy in the Pacific is almost certainly with them. My sister and I will help you clean things up here, secure the railyard. Then you and your Afrika Korps will help us in the west. I do not trust the Vichya to put up even a token defense. Though I suppose you could always wait to be crushed here as well, given that stubborn look in your eyes," she laid out cleanly. The man returned to his maps, looking up at her as he rested his hands on the table at the center of the tent.

"You're certain of this?"

"U-81 and her pack reported that at least two manned wolfpacks failed to report in on schedule after targeting an Allied supply convoy in the North Atlantic. We had them confirm a visual, but they were unable to engage due to the overwhelming size and composition of the enemy force. I will be frank with you, Erwin. I am not sure Scharnhorst and I can defeat them alone, even with the mirror sea armories that the Empress has placed at our disposal. If they can be lured out of the sea, however, coaxed onto land…"

"Then perhaps the advantage would be ours," Rommel concluded, reviewing the state of the war as best he knew it. "Our gains in the east are making them desperate, but Sardegnia is a poor ally and we are stretched thin here. Very well. The counterattack will begin at dawn. They will be within range of your guns."

The Ironblood battle cruiser nodded curtly. If she took any joy in his assent, she didn't show it. "My sister and I will be ready. Goodnight, Desert Fox."

November 4th, 0700 hours - Bridge of the South Dakota

"Zed helped me prepare the reports, Kommandant. Clerical duties were never my forte, even less so now that I have one arm. There was not enough time, simply," Bismarck informed him as they shared a morning meal with Z23. South Dakota presided over the affair, watching the Ironbloods like a hawk.

"I've become accustomed to miracles, to an extent, but I wasn't about to expect Laffey to become an expert in hand to hand combat over the course of a week. The report will suffice," Thorson said shortly, his mind already skipping forward to the planned rendezvous between his fleet and the bulk of the Royal forces, and Task Force 34 from the Union side. If meeting with Rear Admiral Hewitt was not enough, he was slated to speak with a living legend, Major General Patton. Bismarck passed a single sheet of paper across the table to him and began to summarize concisely.

"In the event that boarding actions are necessary you should send your battleships, Pennsylvania and Arizona being the exceptions. The others were… unrefined but effective. Among your destroyers, only Forbin, Javelin, and Ayanami displayed significant competence with any weapon. Do not despair, Zed. Guns will win this war, not cold steel."

"I will continue to practice nevertheless," Z23 promised the two of them as a rosy hue colored her cheeks. Thorson nodded thoughtfully as Bismarck continued.

"You will notice I made note of the Sakura trio of destroyers. They, how shall I say? They are most unorthodox in their approach to combat. I cannot say with certainty how skilled they are. Cruisers are a mixed bag. Sheffield and Minneapolis have demonstrated significant skill. Indianapolis not so much, despite her impressive rigging. The First and Second Carrier Divisions of the Sakura are all masters of the blade, though I would name Hiryuu the best among them. She and Warspite are the only two capable of wielding twin blades without making utter fools of themselves," Bismarck stated with obvious respect in her voice. She cleared her throat politely, hand to her mouth, before delivering her conclusion. "Having studied the prior combat actions of your force I understand these sorts of operations have led to success in the past. I would advise against them in the future unless absolutely necessary, however. The likely presence of small arms fire and human combatants will necessitate permanent barrier uptime for any target that is not a sole kansen hull."

"A difficult ask, to be sure," Thorson agreed, folding the paper and placing it in the breast pocket of his dress uniform. Bismarck watched and gestured to Z23 that she should eat before her food cooled off. "Let us speak of other matters so long as I have you here, Bismarck. I will not call on you to fight in Operation Torch, but I want to know whatever you can tell me about the so-called Ugly Sisters."

Bismarck's mouth crooked into a hint of an ironic smile, but there was little mirth behind it. Parseval the manjuu chirped solemnly on her shoulder. "They are beautiful, deliberate, brutal, calculating, and level-headed. There is a reason the two of them managed to achieve what they did against the Royal Navy despite being outmanned and outgunned. Queen Elizabeth has already confirmed they have access to Siren projection technology, though I would personally be quite surprised if it turns out they have accepted any personal modifications from the Sirens. They are more cautious and less zealous than the others. Assume they have access keys for mirror sea armories as well."

"So more Kaga than Akagi," Thorson summarized neatly, considering his prior 'great enemies'. "Very well. One last thing, Bismarck."

"Kommandant?" she replied, standing elegantly. Z23 followed suit and began gathering her things. Thorson wore a complicated expression as he looked between the two of them.

"You've seen Z23's hull, I assume, and the flag she flies?" he asked quietly, causing the little destroyer to still and adjust her beret. Bismarck nodded.

"I have. The flag of the old empire."

The Union sailor held her gaze, his brow furrowed as he considered what they were all about to do. "You do not have many days left to choose what flag you intend to fly in this war. There will be no opportunities for second chances."

The battleship nodded curtly and saluted, bringing her fist over her heart. "I understand."

"Then you are both dismissed. Thank you, Zed."

"You're very welcome, Kommandant!" she squeaked, departing with Bismarck under South Dakota's supervision. Thorson was given little time to reflect, however, as Shiranui floated through the opposite wall and cleared her throat.

"I hope you brushed your teeth, idiot Shikikan. We have a visual on the Union Task Force," she reported in monotone. Thorson nodded and straightened his cap.

"Good morning to you too, Shiranui. If I recall the briefing correctly, Rear Admiral Hewitt should be aboard the Augusta. I'll send them a hail immediately."

"And I will return to my feathery friends," the ghost ship said in parting, her spirit fire orbiting her slowly as she floated back to whence she'd come. As though remembering something important she leaned back, her body half-obscured by the metal wall. "I do not think you Union types are so foolish, but do not delude yourself. The enemy will know we are coming, if not already then certainly when the fleets pass through Gibraltar."

Thorson pursed his lips in the silence that remained, thinking of the forces at his disposal. "Then it's a good thing I brought an entire air force with me."

The dour mood that had lingered over Thorson's breakfast on account of Bismarck and Shiranui didn't last long, however. Thorson almost dropped the mouthpiece of South Dakota's radio when a most unexpected and familiar set of voices responded to his hail of TF 34's flagship.

"Heya Commander! Nice fleet. Still looks like it's missing an AA expert though!"

"Cleveland?! Is that you?" Thorson spluttered as the Union ships in his fleet sounded their horns and crowded the radio channel. Without any crew to stop them it was momentary chaos.

"What the hell are you doing here, Cleve?" Penny wondered happily while Minneapolis expressed her happiness that their Union cruiser force had increased from two to three.

"You might want to make that four, Minneapolis. Hello, Commander. It's good to hear your voice again," came the voice of none other than Brooklyn over the radio. "I'm aboard the Augusta currently with the Rear Admiral and Major General. Your presence is requested."

"And we got Brooke back too? Peck me, Ares. Good news isn't supposed to come on the eve of an invasion. Any chance you guys brought Downes along with you?" Tennessee wondered as the Royal and Sakura kansen switched to other frequencies.

"I'm sorry, Tennessee. She stayed behind," Brooklyn reported as the two fleets steamed closer to their reunion. "She's been invaluable in the campaign to bring the remnants of the Sakura Empire to the negotiating table, and she claims she's going to be a father."

Thorson sprayed a mouthful of coffee all over the window of the bridge, coughing loudly before asking for clarity. Cleveland and Brooklyn were both laughing, the former uproariously and the latter politely. "She's what?!"

"I'll explain when there are less pressing matters at hand, Commander. It would be best if this information doesn't end up in the wrong hands," Brooklyn insisted. Thorson nodded, knowing she was a lady of discretion.

"Then I'll head out immediately. Arizona, feel like coming along?" he wondered, checking his white shirt for coffee stains. The battleship's typically soft voice was nevertheless flush with excitement.

"Gladly, Commander. I'll be right over. Oh, it's so good to see you two again!"

"I missed you," Cleveland sighed happily, peppering Thorson with kisses as she hugged him with the force of a kansen that proved stark contrast to her slim frame. The presence of Arizona and Brooklyn prevented them from taking their rendezvous further, to say nothing of the presence of hundreds of sailors aboard the USS Augusta.

"Feeling's mutual, Cleveland. If reports about the Vichy air force are accurate I'm happy to have you back. The less our carriers need to dogfight against land-based squads, the better. Brooklyn, I have to say that marriage becomes you."

"We're only engaged for now, Commander," the light cruiser replied calmly, stepping forward to embrace him quickly nevertheless while Cleveland said hello to Arizona. "But we'll have to catch up later. Major General Patton and Rear Admiral Hewitt are waiting for you, along with Major General Fredenhall and Commodore Troubridge from the Royal side. They are in command of the force tasked with taking the city of Oran, past the Strait of Gibraltar."

Thorson processed the news as they walked, turning to Arizona as they were admitted to the interior of the Union ship. "Radio Warspite and tell her that her presence is requested aboard the Augusta immediately. It sounds like there are to be some negotiations."

"RIght away, Commander," she saluted as Thorson checked his uniform one last time. He couldn't help his heart from racing, though he contented himself with the fact that he wasn't about to confront a mirror sea. Arizona and Cleveland stood aside as Brooklyn rapped lightly on the door to the bridge of the ship, announcing their presence. A gruff voice called out from within.

"Is that the kid? Enter!"

Swallowing his nerves, Thorson did just that, followed by his kansen. On the other side of the doorway they found the commanders of Operation Torch arrayed around a map table, looking his way. Some were curious, others neutral. An imposing man who had to be General Patton frowned at him, but he was also the first to motion that Thorson should join them around the table with a jerk of his head. Thorson saluted quickly and stepped forward.

"You must be Commander Thorson," the highest ranking Union sailor greeted him, extending a hand. Thorson took it and shook briefly.

"Yes sir, Admiral Hewitt. It's an honor to-"

"Kid, you have more firepower at your disposal than Nimitz himself if the stories are to be believed. Act like it," Patton admonished him from the other side of the table as all assembled fell silent. The Major General was looking past Thorson to regard Arizona, Brooklyn, Cleveland, and Warspite, who had arrived in record time. The veteran soldier clearly found humor in the situation. "Inspiring loyalty in men is one thing, but that many women? You'll have to share your secrets with me once we're ashore. For now though, let's talk Africa. Fredenhall, Troubridge, go ahead."

If the Royal officers took issue with the General's casual attitude they didn't show it. Instead they explained the distribution of forces for the landings and formally requested a transfer of some of Thorson's kansen to accompany the eastern landing forces. When Warspite hummed thoughtfully, Thorson looked at her and nodded. The stately battleship continued. "With your permission, Knight Commander, I would lead Elizabeth, Ark Royal, Leander, Javelin, Vampire, Sheffield, and Belfast on this mission. I agree with the assessment that despite the naval forces at Casablanca, our fleet alone could break the Vichy resistance. The Ugly Sisters are more likely to defend Oran and Algiers personally as well. It's closer to their suspected base of operations in Tunis, and we should assume they have wolfpacks patrolling the Mediterranean. The Royal contingent is well balanced to deal with any combat situation. And with all due respect to your carrier, Ranger, she will not be able to equal Ark Royal's ability in battle."

"Ha! I won't tell Doolittle," Patton chortled, glancing at the Royal officers. "Satisfied, lads?"

"Quite. Our thanks to you and Her Majesty, Lady Warspite," Commodore Troubridge said, a reminder of the level of autonomy enjoyed by Royal kansen within the structure of the empire's armed forces.

"Casablanca then?" Rear Admiral Hewitt stated shortly.

"I'll defer to the two of you, just get my men and armor ashore safely," Patton demanded, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he looked down at where a large X had been drawn on the map in Libya. "If that telegram is right, Rommel is already on his way to greet us."

"General? What telegram?" Thorson requested. Hewitt filled them all in.

"This morning we received an emergency dispatch from Gibraltar. Royal mechanized divisions tasked with retaking the railyards at El Alamein have retreated, following a protracted engagement with the Desert Fox."

"And if he has access to the coastal rail network, it stands to reason that he could move west rapidly," Brooklyn deduced, taking her chin between her fingers. "But that would amount to an invasion of Vichy Africa, would it not?"

"It would. And I ask if you think the Ironblood care about that," Patton pointed out. "We need to hit them hard and fast, break their resistance, and establish our own fortifications and positions away from the exposed shoreline. When we get planes in the air we can hopefully get a bead on his location and react accordingly. And don't bother asking whether those damn frogs will make it easy on us. They're hellbent on maintaining their 'neutrality', even though a man with one eye and half a brain can see that's bullshit. Gibraltar is working the backrooms, but we would be fools to expect anything."

"Understood, where do you need us then?" Thorson asked. "I have two carrier divisions with escorts, if you don't mind working with the Sakura. And my battleships can spearhead landings if they haven't mined the harbors."

"The Sakura…" Hewitt considered a moment before shaking his head. "I'll set aside my misgivings for now. Ranger can't be in three places at once. We'll send her to Safi and split your divisions between the main assault at Casablanca and the northern landings at Port-Lyautey."

"You'll keep the kitsune on a tight leash, no?" Warspite asked Thorson, though her tone was hardly questioning. He nodded.

"Soryuu and Hiryuu will go north. Akagi and Kaga will assist at Casablanca. What's the expected level of resistance from the Vichy?" Thorson asked.

"Ideally, none," Hewitt explained, earning a snort from Patton. "We are in negotiations with Allied sympathizers within the Vichy ranks. With luck, the gates will be open when we arrive."

"And if they aren't?" the Commander replied. The Rear Admiral pointed to Casablanca on the map.

"The battleship Jean Bart is undergoing repairs. We don't know her operational status. She is the only Vichy capital ship in the area that we know of."

Thorson, Cleveland, and Arizona looked at one another as if to say 'is that it?' Warspite, on the other hand, walked up to the map and took a closer look. "What the hell is she doing so far from Toulon? Surely battle damage would be most easily repaired at a mainland Vichy port. Mmm, no matter. If she stands in your way, Knight Commander, I know you will crush her. That newest battleship of yours, Massachusetts, she acts aloof but I sense she wishes to prove herself as South Dakota and the others have. If this ends up being as easy as it seems, perhaps allow her a modicum of glory."

"No harm in it," Thorson agreed before looking around the table. It didn't sit well with him to split his forces at all, but he had faith in Warspite and Soryuu, and knew that both splinter groups would be well protected. Shiranui, Yuudachi, and the other Sakura destroyers worked well with their own carriers. "I should brief my Kansen then, gentlemen. Is there anything else?"

When none of the men spoke, Warspite cleared her throat. "Even if she is wounded, don't underestimate Jean Bart. If Cardinal Richelieu was the brains of the Templar, she was their heart. She will fight to the bitter last, and she is a trained warrior."

Patton drew a knife from his boot and stabbed through Casablanca on the map. "If these landings fail, we spend half a decade and millions of men trying to break fortress Europe from the north. If this so-called Templar stands in your way, send her to God!"

Thorson exhaled heavily and saluted. "Yes sir."