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It appeared that Belfast had passed out during her duties, as shown by her still wearing her usual attire. A warm cup of tea sat in a metal cup with a cover over it; he assumed to keep it warm till his arrival. Karl tiptoes towards his desk chair and begins removing his military attire quietly. As quickly as he pulled off the uniform and boots, Belfast awakens, seeing him attempting to wear jeans.
"Master?" Belfast asks him as he zips his pants. "What are you doing getting dressed at this hour?"
Karl pauses and turns to face her. Initially, he wanted to lie to Belfast, conjuring up a story that he would see Akagi or Taihou for a late-night date to make up for not spending time with them. But Karl couldn't bring himself to lie to his loyal maid. He was, after all, a somewhat honorable man.
"I received intel from my contacts about a lead on why the META girls are after me." Karl reluctantly tells her. "The META's confronted me when I was with Atago."
Belfast threw herself up and off the bed, "Again?! Who were they?!"
"Falcon and Raiden," Karl admitted. "The latter being Atago's META form."
"Atago… META?" Belfast says in disbelief. "How… How many of these Ashes are there?"
"I don't know." Karl sighs. "But they didn't harm me."
"Then what did they do?" Belfast asks.
The images of a hellscape followed by beams of light confused him greatly. Unconsciously he blurted out, "Dreams… The dreams…"
"Master…" Belfast whispered, moving towards him. "Dreams?"
"Raiden… She kissed me…." Karl replies. His expression is full of frustration and anxiety as he searches for the words. "That kiss… It just… Brought something… Something back…"
Karl sits on the bed, his nervous tick coming out as he runs his hands through his hair. "I don't know." Karl was exasperated. The frustration was building.
Belfast stands before him, bringing her hands together near the midsection. "It's OK, Master, just breath and stay calm." She says in her usual calm tone.
The English accent of Belfast felt soothing and warm, like a spring breeze. "Tell me what happened between you and the Ashes? She kissed you, and then what?"
"Atago… I mean, Raiden told me that I forgot something," Karl explains; a flat expression takes his face as he tries to remember it all. "I kept saying a phrase while they were talking; I don't recall it all. I just remember the image of a sea, hellish buildings, and lights from the sky. Then it goes blank, and my Babygirl saves me."
"So that's what you call her?" Belfast teases, her dignified laughter cutting the tension, making him chuckle.
"Well…" Karl blushes, unknowingly giving away another pet name. "I'm sorry, I'm so disheveled. I must find people who can lead me in the right direction."
"You are not leaving this room," Belfast replies sternly. "Between your running about with the Sakura Empire and attacks by the META shipgirls. You've neglected your health to a point where I need to put my foot down."
"I've got people to visit to get answers; I don't have time to rest." Karl counters.
"At least drink some of the tea I prepared for you," Belfast remarks, handing it to him respectfully.
"Sure, Then I must leave." Karl agrees, taking a drink of it quickly. "Now I must…."
Within a moment's notice, The Commander collapses backward onto the bed. Belfast turns him around in the bed, so he's usually sleeping. The maid removes his pants and throws the blanket over him to make him more comfortable.
"I felt Amagi's sleeping tea would work on him." Belfast says, exhausted, "The hard-headed bastard took it relatively easy. By god, He would give Ms. Enterprise stiff competition for who could neglect themselves the longest. The head maid couldn't contain her laughter and politely giggled at the sight before her. As Belfast laughed, it soon became a yawn as she drifted back into drowsiness more quickly. She grabs the cup, knowing full well that an accident would occur if this was left unattended. But, even the mighty Belfast began to feel fatigued and gazed at herself in the mirror by the bathroom. Looking at herself and then back to her Master, Belfast sighed sweetly.
"Maybe being with my Master would help my woes," Belfast said aloud to herself. "It might help his mood tomorrow morning."
For all the proper behavior that became synonymous with the head maid, HMS Belfast of the Royal Navy, she was still a woman. Though she knew not to stoop down to the levels of some other ships, Belfast did indeed feel a particular type of way for the Commander. The troubled man seemed to find his way into the hearts of the Shipgirls; at least, that's what the gossip around port seemed to be. Amagi spoke of this at length during their last tea time. Iron Blood battleship Bismarck had spoken highly of him, and his demeanor with an issue with Roon in her report, and the other Maids truly appreciated his independent nature and care in his actions. Though some other girls, like the Knight Commanders of the Royal Navy or the Eagle Union girls, questioned his actions regarding saving Lady Nagato and Misaka in such a haphazard way. Combined with the META ship activity, Belfast held a mixed opinion of him.
Though Belfast's interactions with the Commander mixed her opinion with a swirl of emotions. Frustration at his blatant lack of regard for himself in these stressful times, Sadness for the loneliness he feels being away from his comrades, and constant worry for him. The head maid would be so enraged that he was attacked and acted nonchalantly as if it was nothing. Belfast could only understand so much until it drove her to tears over her Master neglecting himself, an act she kept absolutely secret from everyone. The dark feeling of jealousy began to rear its ugly head once again. Belfast goes over to the Commander's uniform and folds it nicely out of habit, but the aroma of Atago's perfume radiates off its collar and sleeves.
Unclean thoughts, unbecoming of a woman of the Royal Navy, filled her mind as Belfast began to think of the unsavory things that Atago had done with him. She knew of Atago's rather lax attitude from her conversations with Takao. That did not help her mind either, thinking of Atago alone with the Commander for this long. But that was a short time compared to the strings of Akagi's and Taihou's hair on his clothes…
"You are a man," Belfast sighs, "After all… I don't know any man that could keep himself at bay here; at least men of the navy kept themselves under control."
Loose morals, questionable judgment, and covered in scars and body art. She wondered how many of the Commander's compatriots in the Special Forces were like this? Definitely not the type of man to be welcomed in the halls of the Royal Navy's Royal Family. But Bel was sure they were necessary for this war's grander scheme. From the corner of her eyes, the light glint from a machine gun in the duffle bag brought more strange feelings to her mind.
"I question it all, Master," Belfast admits aloud. "But I wholeheartedly believe you are trying to do good for us."
A smile formed momentarily until fading away as the machine gun came to mind. How did Belfast know he wasn't faking it? That the Commander wouldn't go off into the night with his fancy guns to meet with these contacts of his? Between the strange lady who visited and these odd phone calls, she caught snippets of what weird things the Commander had gotten into or was involved in?
The loyal maid couldn't say she didn't trust her Master, but Belfast was defiantly worried about him in all forms. "What a fine excuse!" Belfast snickers to herself.
She moved to the other side of the bed, the Commander appearing sound asleep, and began undressing quietly until she was in a matching set of light blue bra and thong. Bel ties her hair up and crawls into bed with the Commander. Wrapping herself around him with her arms and legs, Belfast figured he would have difficulty getting up without disturbing her. While this was a precaution to assure he would stay within the witching hour, Belfast felt this was a guilty pleasure. With this, she fell fast asleep and cuddled against him.
Hours later…
Karl's eyes opened wide in a jolt, and he scanned the room quickly to check his surroundings. Too much to his surprise, Belfast lay comfortably on his chest. Seeing Belfast in anything but her usual maid outfit was an odd sight. As the Commander played the moments leading up to him laying with Belfast, he assumed he had passed out. Looking at the clock beside his bed, it was 0300 in the morning. Karl wasn't sure how long he was out for, but it felt like he had slept for almost twelve hours, but the date on the clock said it was April 7.
"Must have really needed some rest…." Karl says to himself quietly, looking over to Belfast, snoozing on his chest. "So did you…."
Belfast's eyes opened slowly, and, to much of her dismay, her Master was awake and looking at her with bright eyes.
"Master…" Belfast says shyly, "You've awakened."
"Good morning, Ms. Belfast," Karl says with an innocent look. "Did I pass out as soon as I sat down last night?"
Belfast giggles, noticing the Commander didn't remember the tea knocking him out. "You did indeed, Master. I did as well, as you can see."
Karl chuckles, noticing her lavishly decorated bra, "Seems you made yourself comfortable then."
Belfast blushes and covers her body further with the sheet. "I wasn't hoping for you to see me at your side in such a matter," Belfast says, embarrassed.
"It's a wonderful sight, actually," Karl smiles, "I've always thought you were beautiful."
"Thank you, Master," Belfast replies. "Though I do not wish to complicate our relationship like this, I was tired after a long day and didn't find it appropriate to sleep in my usual attire."
"We'll go with that." Karl winks. "It's about the usual time you awaken, or at least an hour or so before?"
"I usually awaken at 0400 before the rest of the maids," Belfast says, adjusting herself to sit more upright and covering herself. "What caused you to awaken?"
"Just my nerves getting to me," Karl says reluctantly. "I'm still thinking of the mission I need to do."
Belfast sighs, "Have you ever considered that you can't keep living like this?"
"Like what?" Karl asks her, brows raised.
"You're always moving and going," Belfast begins, her attitude shifting from conservative to firm. "It's almost as if you want to intentionally run yourself to destruction or death. I don't understand it. I'm sure those other girls ask themselves the same question, regardless of how lovesick they are for you. Atago is lucky to have been selected to be your bodyguard; her perfume is all over your clothes. I have no doubt she's worried sick about you."
Her jealousy was plain as day. The head maid was not immune to the matters of the heart.
"I don't want you to destroy yourself. I believe deep down you're a good man; you're just a rough diamond."
That phrase rang in Karl's mind like a grand clock tower's bell at midnight. He swore he had heard this phrase uttered before, long ago. But Karl wasn't sure. It felt haunting to him…
"I have no doubt she is…." Karl said quietly with regret.
Raiden's appearance flashed across his eyes. It didn't make sense that she kissed him… It almost made him feel… Afraid, but why?
A feeling overcame Karl, and subconsciously, he put his arm over Belfast. The head maid picked up on this and laid on him without hesitation. Belfast laid on his chest and returned the embrace by wrapping her arm around his waist.
"Are you worried she'll notice my scent on you?" Belfast asks cheeky.
"Depends on who notices it first," Karl remarks. "Akagi, Atago, or Taihou."
"What a lady's man you are, Master," Belfast admits with a half-joking, half-jealous jab. "Even Dido wishes to be at your side. Sadly, she and her sister are on escort duty following a kerfuffle with her Majesty's sister, Valiant."
"I can only imagine what my klutz personal maid could have done," Karl says with a concerned sigh. "As for a ladies' man, not really. Though I do enjoy those girls, I enjoy you too. You've been there for me and given me a lot of help. I swear you're a saint, honestly."
She blushes more, and her hand begins to trace his stomach. "Thank you, Master…." Bel says quietly. The two held each other for an eternity before Belfast spoke up.
"Atago and I were discussing your selection of the port," Belfast begins, "We came to a conclusion, on a joke, that you have a personal fleet, it seems."
"Two carriers, A heavy cruiser, and…." Karl trails off, emboldened by the maid in lingerie holding on to him. "A light cruiser?"
Belfast looks up at him from his chest, "Yes… HMS Belfast at your ready as your light cruiser, your maid, and more if needed, My honorable Master."
"Atago was right," Karl jests, "You did like me."
"Sheffy calls you a hard-headed fool," Belfast counters cheekily, "But I believe your just stubborn or aloof some days."
Karl spanks Belfast's ass playfully, "Thank you for that." He tells her, smiling.
"How bold of you," Belfast replies with a smile, Moving up to him till she is at face level. "Now it's my turn."
Moving boldly, Belfast passionately kisses him. Emotions and feelings guided their bodies as they kissed. They broke off from the passion and looked at each other knowingly. Belfast puts her finger on his lips, "Nothing of this can be said. A scandal would run ruin within the Royal Navy if a Maid was known to be sleeping with her Master."
"But I am not royalty," Karl replies.
"Neither am I," Belfast counters, "But I am the head maid, and you like the Sakura Empire girls. I'd rather not have to duel with the likes of Akagi and Taihou for you."
"So you and Atago are working together then?" Karl asks lewdly.
"I'm willing to share with Ms. Atago, yes." Belfast agrees, her hand moving down towards his midsection. "Now on to other business… A maid must dedicate her all to her Master; if I show you my dedication, will you please show your dedication to me? I know you enjoy the others, and you are loyal to them. But I'd also like your loyalty if I am to join your personal fleet."
An evil smirk takes over Karl's face, "How far are we talking? I've surely not deserved home base."
"No, not that far," Belfast says, moving her hand down to his crotch and rubbing the bulge in his underwear. "But I do feel that duty calls…"
The maid reaches into his underwear to grab his rigid member. Stroking it slowly, Belfast feels Karl's hand holding her stern. He removes the blanket revealing Belfast's beautiful body clade in her decorative undergarments. Bel's hand glided across his cock as it became wet with precum. Karl pulled her closer, increasing her speed until he could feel the warmth of her lower regions against his thigh. The tension built within Karl, his muscles tightening and his heart racing until he couldn't take it. Pulling Belfast in, he kisses her lovingly until cuming all over the maid's hand. Throwing himself back into the headboard of the bed, breathing heavily, Karl kisses Belfast deeply until she pulls back. It was almost 0345, and she sighed, knowing her other duties were also called.
"Do you feel better, my Master?" Belfast asks innocently. "I hope this helps you focus today."
Gaining his composure back, Karl responds. "It will. Hopefully, I can return the favor soon."
"Maybe." Belfast teases, kissing him once more. "Though you'll have to earn it."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Karl replies with a wicked smile.
The two get out of bed reluctantly. Belfast prepares a warm washcloth for them and cleans the climax from her hands before handing it to her Master. As Karl cleans himself off, Belfast begins putting on her uniform. The duffle bag holding the strange weapon in the corner reminded her of her questions last night.
"What's in this bag, If you don't mind me asking?" Belfast asks, putting on her stockings first.
Karl hesitates, "Tools." He replies flatly.
"Tools for what?" Bel presses.
"Tools for my trade," Karl says, giving in. "Tactical webbing and a submachine gun. May or may not have some other goodies if things go sideways."
"Are you expecting to run into sirens?" Belfast replies half-jokingly.
"More like my own countrymen." Karl sighs, "My contacts are with the SF Counterintelligence branch, Spookhouse. My world is sometimes questionable. I don't know if they'll try anything crazy."
"I see…" Belfast says awkwardly, putting on her maid uniform. "It's dangerous then."
Karl sighs heavily as he puts on his jeans and a black T-shirt, "Yeah… Always has been…."
"Do you ever wonder," Belfast begins hesitantly? "What would your life be like if you ever stopped this, this questionable work of yours?"
Karl becomes noticeably quiet as he puts on a grey tracksuit jacket with black stripes over his shoulder holster rigging. Milling over the idea of hanging up his guns and going to a quiet life had crossed his mind, but those were just fleeting ideas that usually burned up like ammunition in a machine gun. It lasted only a short time.
"I have." Karl says sadly, "But I don't think that's for me; maybe one day. But not this day."
"I know deep in my heart that one day you will find a long and happy peace," Belfast says suddenly. "Like how I was on the river."
Karl walks over to her and hugs Belfast before kissing her again, "Thank you… Thank you for everything."
"There is no need to thank a maid, Master," Belfast says with a sad tone as tears form in her eyes. "It is my duty."
They hugged again before Karl grabbed his duffle bag of 'Tools' and headed for the door. "Please inform Amagi I might be late for teatime. Akagi won't be happy about it, so be warned." Karl instructs her. "Please let Atago. I'll see her later today as well."
"Of course, Master." She said, giving a quick nod, a few tears still in her eyes. "Don't keep me waiting too long, OK?"
"I won't keep you waiting, I promise," Karl says, exiting the room.
Belfast's face turns a deep shade of red as her heart races faster and faster. She flashed one last smile before he stepped out of the room. Belfast takes a few deep breaths outside your room, her face as red as before and her heart still pounding like a jackhammer. She leans against the wall for a minute, trying to regain her composure. She's... not very successful.
Moments later, Karl finds himself sitting in the driver's seat of the sedan. He sets the duffle bag on the floorboard of the back seat. As much as Karl wanted to drive into town with the MP5 on his lap like he was in Iraq or Afghanistan, it wasn't the best move. Spookhouse likely had agents patrolling around in plain clothes and Eagle Union or Royal Navy uniforms to fit in. The last thing he wanted was to pulp some spookhouse agent with a hollow point while they were in the uniform of the military alliance he was not only working for but was also after him.
Karl smirks as he thinks of how Commander Helena would salivate over such a dreadful thing. But he wasn't going to deliver to her the ammunition that arrogant bitch needed to put him down. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from the duffle bag, Karl lights one up before driving into the darkness toward the grid point.
Meanwhile…
"What do you mean he's under cognitive manipulation?" Ember shouts.
"Commander Karl used a phrase when confronted by my questions regarding the event known as 'Operation Unthinkable' by the Order and us," Raiden replies calmly. "He kept saying, 'I don't recognize the bodies in the water several times. I strongly believe he is under cognitive manipulation between his headaches to forget what he did during the operation."
Falcon sighs as she tries to meditate outside, overlooking the sea. The two sisters argued for hours about their recent visit to the Commander. Ember insisted that they should have killed him and left his body headless in the onsen as a message to everyone that the end was near. But Raiden argued it was inviting the wrath of forces she didn't understand. Falcon stood fast with her Lord's wisdom. For all intense purposes, the Order of St. Abaddon held people within its ranks that, frankly, shouldn't exist.
While firm, Ember wouldn't have stood a chance against the Wicker Witch. A recurring nightmare for Falcon was Operation Unthinkable, when the Witch called upon forces they simply couldn't understand. The Witch opened the ocean and unleashed a beast that destroyed a whole Siren and human fleet in seconds, leaving the water a disgusting blood-red abyss. Her pale, indifferent face splashed with blood, and her piercing blue eyes haunted Falcon… How could someone conjure up a leviathan and send thousands of souls to hell without a second thought or feeling?
"I don't believe you." Ember replies with rage, "It's more than likely he's making it up to ignore you. You're letting your feelings be ruled by some…. HUMAN! The same collection of apes that drove up to destruction!"
"Takao," Raiden says calmly. "This 'Human' nearly gave us what we wanted to stop the darkness from destroying us. Hadrian answers our woes, but we need Karl Dael to get us to the weapon. I know your hatred for humanity, but we need to "
"You don't FUCKING CARE about my fight!" Ember explodes, "MY RAGE, MY VENGENCE! You only want that man for a pet; how convenient that he is the only one to get us that weapon. We don't need Hadrian; we must return to the rest and handle the mission. Not playing around on a personal mission of yours!"
"They are one and the same," Raiden insists, "Hadrian, Karl, and the mission given to us by our Masters. Everything is connected, dear sister."
"I still don't believe you," Ember says calmly. "And I don't see the point in taking him to Attu as you planned. We have to drag him there, not set him on a course to us. Typhoon is growing restless, and keeping her in training is testing my patients. We must move the timeline up. I wish to attack the city closest to him."
"Attacking the port directly is a breach of our mission here," Raiden says firmly with a cold overtone.
"That is your mission, Not mine," Ember replies, turning away. "I'm going to let fate decide if he goes over to you or his blood stains my blade."
"The black cube, the past Commanders, and everything we tried failed in the other timelines," Raiden replied gravely, grabbing her sister by the shoulders violently. "The only thing that saved us on Tiberius was Hadrian and that man you wish to kill. This could be our only chance to stop the darkness."
"Are you two finished?" A voice asks from across the room. The appearance of a woman in a black trench coat, red eyes, and long black hair tied in a ponytail.
"I see you're ready," Ember replies, "Typhoon."
"I wish to see my Commander," Typhoon tells them roughly. "If he is even here."
Raiden sighs, "I assure you he is here in this timeline, Typhoon. Falcon and I personally confronted him."
"For your own sake," Typhoon says ominously. "You better be telling the truth. I want to be in the vanguard."
"Of course." Ember smirks. "You will be with me and Falcon."
"Raiden." Typhoon growls. "You are coming too."
"I believe you are forgetting who's in charge here, Taihou." Raiden snorts.
Typhoon throws a punch at Raiden, only for it to be caught. "Don't you ever call me that?" Typhoon shouts.
Raiden continues, "I might as well. But only if we agree to capture Karl and keep the civilians out of it. No collateral damage, Understand? I want to take him to Attu. If our plans go correctly, we can involve the 2nd Carrier division in preparing the scenario."
Ember and Typhoon reluctantly agree, "Fine." The two say in unison.
Ember and Typhoon leave the room leaving Raiden with Falcon. Raiden sits down and pulls up her plans regarding Attu Island in the Aleutian Island chain. Studying it intently, she is then interrupted by Falcon.
"The mirror sea on Attu should be fully operational by the time he arrives there." She informs Raiden. "Yamashiro and Fusou have reported movement on the island. Possible Azur Lane or Order members, status unknown."
"Good." Raiden remarks. "2nd Carrier will be holding off anyone from Azur Lane once we capture the Commander. I was hoping for him to be the lead over there, but it seems everyone is getting impatient. Those on the Island will be dealt with by Ember after his capture."
"Indeed." Falcon agrees.
"Prepare the team for the mission." Raiden orders Falcon. "Begin the operation."
Meanwhile, in the town…
Coyote 6 opens the door to her office as usual. Sitting at her desk, the strawberry-blonde woman lights a cigarette to take the edge off her nerves. Shifting through the papers and documents on her desk, Coyote 6 takes a long drag off the lucky strike cigarette. Blowing the smoke out of her nose, she begins reading reports on an ongoing operation of the Special Forces teams.
"Red Lucy." A man's gruff voice says from the shadows before she's blinded by a high-power flashlight. "It is you!"
"Who, then, " Lucy says, going for the Czech 75 pistol in the drawer before her.
A loud clanking was heard as the pistol appeared against the wall in pieces. "I knew you'd have a piece somewhere. Don't try anything."
"It can't be." Lucy, Coyote 6's real name, gasps. "Major Dael…"
"No surprises Lucy," Karl replies, turning on the office lights and shutting off the flashlight. "Seeing you running the Coyote team is enough of a surprise."
The German submachine gun was pointed directly at her. The small MP5K was held in Karl's hands like a pistol as he approached her. He clicked the safety on and let the machine gun rest against his stomach from the single-point sling.
Red Lucy, a nickname earned for her red hair, stood up suddenly and offered a salute. Karl returned it, "At ease, Lieutenant. Or should I say Captain if you're heading this team?"
"Captain, Sir," Lucy replies, motioning him to sit down. "I was promoted as soon as I was given this position."
"Not even going to go say hello, eh?" Karl asks sarcastically.
"It isn't exactly proper to greet someone with an MP5," Lucy says, the tension in her voice palpable. "Neither is assaulting one of my agents.
"I'm not perfect," Karl admits with a chuckle. "I wasn't too keen knowing that I was being watched."
"We both are not," Lucy says, taking a drag off her cigarette before letting it rest in the ashtray. "Care for one?"
"Lucky strikes?" Karl asks as Lucy pulls out her cigarette case.
"Yes," Lucy confirms. "They don't have my usual blend in this world. So these will do."
Karl takes one and lights it up. Taking a long slow drag, he releases it from his nose. The burning sensation in his nose reminds him of his days as a young man. Tension seems to leave his body until Lucy begins to lean over her right side.
Karl grabs the machine gun from his side and stands up quickly, But Lucy only opens the drawer revealing a bottle of Finnish vodka and a couple of shot glasses. "May I offer you a drink, Major?" Lucy asks stoically.
"Please," He replies, taking his seat once again. "I'd enjoy that."
"I know you don't exactly trust us," Lucy says, referring to Spookhouse, "But I can assure you that you can trust me."
"I know I can," Karl relents, "It's just hard to trust an organization that's spying on, for all intense purposes, an exile."
"It's more as if you are on parole. I'm sure the Wicker Witch briefed you on what's back on Tiberius." She replies, placing the two shot glasses on the table and pouring the drinks. "As for your men, they are on security duty and R&R in the capital. The Waldreich campaign against the eldritch terrors was…."
Lucy quickly takes a drag off her cigarette, and her hands start to shake as she tries to come up with the words to describe the events of the Waldreich campaign in the mountains and forests in Nifelheim's easter province, Waldreich.
"Hell…" Lucy says, reaching for the glass. "Please, let's make this toast quick before my nerves get to me."
"To our enemies, May their bones be crushed," Karl says, taking the glass in his hand.
"May they rest in piss, to never be missed," Lucy replies, toasting and throwing the shot down her throat. Followed by pouring herself another and slurping it down in seconds.
"I'll take another," Karl smirks, "Just hearing the name of those mountains made me shiver. I think I still feel that bitterly cold weather."
"Will do," Lucy agrees. "I still have nightmares, if I'm being honest. What about you?"
Karl throws the shot back and sets the glass down on the desk, "I still hear the guys shouting, some firing weapons while others are screaming. Thankfully I don't smell the burning beasts anymore. I couldn't eat pork for the longest time!"
"Ugh," Lucy replies, grossed out. "I still can't. Burning those daemites in the caves… The smell of rotting pork cooked by napalm or thermobaric haunts me more than their screams."
"What was worse," Karl begins, taking another hit from his cigarette. "The daemites or those Acadian army pricks?"
"The daemites, hiding in the cracks of the mountains, made things… Complicated." Lucy said bluntly.
"True," Karl admits. "Easier to track men than those things."
"Daemites hiding in the walls of homes… Eating babies and children… I won't ever forget those sounds." Lucy said hauntingly. "At least the Acadians were more humane, to a point."
"I don't think we're able to talk about anything humane," Karl replies frankly, recalling the dirty deeds of the Waldreich Campaign. Patrolling through the mountains in the freezing cold, checking on villages that may or may not have survived the herds of daemites that made their rounds through the hills. The dangerous tasks of clearing out the cave systems that held mining villages, bandits, and creatures alike. Providing aid to the more isolated settlements by carrying it on donkeys or securing landing zones for helicopters. All this while fighting Acadian infantry, trying to seize the passes for possible invasions of Niflheim.
"By no means…." Lucy replies, pouring another drink. "Care for another?"
"Always." Karl replies, "Whatever cuts the edge off. You don't seem well."
"I've been feeling rough," Lucy admits, pouring another drink for them. "Between the operations here and those fucking shipgirls attacking you, Z has been up our asses here. I'm sure you're tracking everything about our job here, eh?"
"Claudia told me a little, but mostly in passing," Karl replies. "Something about how Spookhouse is running Special Forces teams to secure siren tech to make up for our own shortcomings."
"A little indeed," Lucy smirks somberly, raising for another toast. "To clarity in an ever-confusing world!"
"To clarity!" Karl replies, toasting her.
Putting the glass down, Lucy takes another drag from her cigarette before speaking. "We're transferring much of what we capture to the Aleutian Islands off the coast of Alaska. We made outposts on Attu and Kiska to use the die Glocke Matter transference stations built there to send the materials back to Tiberius. It's been an interesting operation, to say the least. Only 5 to 10% of it goes back to the factions."
"Interesting," Karl remarks, noticing Red Lucy's voice growing. "What are we using some of this stuff for?"
"Primarily in the tech fields," Lucy explains. "Most of the siren equipment we've taken is high-grade electronics and other materials that we can use in industry and tech development. Processing systems for data collection, guidance systems for advanced weapons, Space Force components, and even space elevators. Amazingly some of the chips found in the siren corpses are the same as that in some American space and defense industry pieces. Reports from our friends in the air force, siren chips are being used in some of the SU-47 and 57 aircraft."
"Amazing, actually." Karl chuckles. "I'm sure it's useful then. Especially some of the drones that have been used here."
"Ah, yes, actually," Lucy confirms. "We've noticed that here. The sirens seem able to back up their 'personalities,' if you can call them that, between different bodies when their current host is nearing destruction. This is EXTREMELY useful for our drone modifications to American and Russian drones for operation beyond our borders. All the data gathered by our drones can be instantly backed up to our servers, and the information aboard can be wiped away instantly." She snaps her fingers, the passion for the field of intelligence gathering showing as her voice grows higher pitched.
"What about drones controlled by outside forces?" Karl inquires, thinking of the drone that attacked him.
Lucy rubs her chin in thought, "We've speculated it. But these drones here require a special kind of control interface. We haven't found anything like in the raids. Mr. Z is keen on figuring out how to use some of them for further expansion to magical places. More efficient than using humans, and they can't be corrupted by the unworldly."
"Interesting," Karl says, crossing his legs. "Do you know of a drone known as 'Skinwalker'?"
"Yes!" Lucy replies excitedly. "A base known as 'Site 4 Bravo' in the Siren logs, deep in the South Atlantic near Antarctica. Team 8 found what we can describe as a production facility for mass-produced siren ships and some drones. The 'Skinwalker' you speak of is a prototype. The records showed none had been produced from what we can describe as a massive 3D Printer. I might have the report if you're interested."
"No thanks," Karl says, slowly motioning no with his hand. "I'm more interested in if we can use these systems, the drones, in combat."
"No," Lucy denies. "We have tried with our own interpretation of the interface I spoke about before. But the issue is we are auto-locked by the system, and, believe it or not, the Sirens melt our systems with a virus. Which is strange because the virus seemed to have been commanded to be sent to us. I think the AI noticed an interloper, but some of my colleagues believe it was sent by a human admin. But who knows? I have those reports as well if you wish to see them."
"If possible," Karl agrees, thinking about the lead Raiden gave him. "It's interesting they can do such a thing to our systems."
Karl thinks back to earlier when he quickly ripped the information off of the drone with an Order-built computer. Though he wasn't sure if Lucy was lying, maybe Raiden had given him permission to take the data off the drone? Red Lucy was a loyal member of his unit during the years of fighting in both Acadia and the initial seizure of Nifelheim. The loyalty and regard for one of his former Grenadiers was still strong with him. Though her commitment may be tainted by the dark heart of Spookhouse… His distrust for the spooks and their questionable MO foremost in his mind…
"After this bottle," Lucy requests. "Today was rather stressful with the news of Meta activity in the PA ocean. Apparently, there were sightings of those odd girls off Attu. The weather was too much for them to get a clear ID on them or what they were doing."
"How do you know they were META?" Karl asks, his brow rising.
"Their signatures were full of odd energy," Lucy says, amazed. "It was as if a magnet was near our equipment. The radars would, for lack of a better term, become erratic. Our occult specialist noted in the reports that blood magical energy and dark energy were picked up by vril detectors."
"Odd…" Karl says, thinking aloud and contemplating the final words of the drone about Attu. "Thinking about it… That makes me wonder…"
"Wonder what, sir?" Lucy asks, finishing her cigarette and lighting another one.
"Just about the shipgirls, META or otherwise," Karl replies, taking a hit off his cigarette. "One of the PR ships, Fredrich, has exhibited some odd abilities. Sometimes I wonder if the makeup of some of these girls is magic to a point. Though some of it could be down to tech… This place is odd, to say the least."
"I feel that," Lucy says, the phrase showing her age. The petite and tom-boyish Lucy was in her late twenties, but the war had taken a toll on her, making the young girl look like she was just reaching forty. "It's odd seeing the shipgirls. We've encountered a few from the Eagle Union; they're rather sweet. Oddly, such sweet faces can see so much death and keep it together."
"Sirens aren't exactly people," Karl remarks with disdain. "Machines, really, at least what the reports say. I can't say that for the shipgirls; they're more human than anyone I've met. Killing the sirens is nearly a victimless crime."
"Some of the sirens have personalities," Lucy explains, looking at a file. "We managed to find one calling itself Devil. Unfortunately, we only had her personality for a day before her programming melted the host drone."
"And?" Karl asks, motioning his hands. "AI's can create personalities. It doesn't make them human."
"It felt like she was!" Lucy exclaims. "She felt real, like an actual girl. I don't know what these Sirens are, exactly, but I think they are connected to the KANSEN."
"The KANSEN, well, some of them," Karl begins, taking another drag from the cigarette. "are not like the Sirens from what I understand. According to the reports, they are more robotic than one or two. Even the META girls seem more human."
"Devil was different… She cried, Karl… She cried when she fried circuits." Lucy replies, shaking. Taking a long hit off the cigarette, she becomes quiet and pours another drink to calm her nerves. "But some were… Unrepentant… Evil… Saying they did what they did because it was more like playing a game or it was… The right thing to do…"
"It's just…." Lucy begins, holding herself as she speaks. Her voice begins to shudder and sound weak. "After we… You know…. 'Cleaned up' those cultists near the Acadian border…."
Karl grabs the bottle and takes a couple of drinks before passing it to Lucy. "I don't want to talk about those death cults. They had it coming, end of the story."
"You ever feel like you lost your humanity?" Lucy asks abruptly.
Karl pauses, thinking about the past and his current standings momentarily. "Sometimes I do. Sometimes I think I lost it altogether, and other times, no. Why do you ask?"
"I just… I don't… I can't understand why…" Lucy shudders. "I know what they did to the kids… I just…"
Lucy takes a resounding hit off her cigarette and takes a gulp from the vodka bottle before blurting out, "How can we exist with such pure souls like Devil and the Shipgirls when we are no better than those other Sirens?!"
Karl puts up his hand to stop her, "The Burgundians were Sarkics. What else do you want me to say?"
"We can't just kill every siren, just like we couldn't kill every Burgundian," Lucy says with poisonous words that cut into Karl. The people of Tiberius were given ancient Roman tribal names based on their traits by the Order's population ministry.
"But we did." Karl snarls, his voice full of cold hatred. "Root and Branch. What makes the sirens any different? If they are like a computer, they must have a mainframe and more factories for us to loot. Unlike the Sarkics, we won't have to spend as much on ammunition."
"The Burgundians were led astray by evil!" Lucy exclaims. "What we did to them was no better than what the Americans did to the Natives! How can you sleep at night with all the blood on your hands? Or does your detachment prevent you from feeling for the lives of those people we turned into ash?"
"What else were we supposed to do to them, Lucy?" Karl interjects. "You can't simply kill their creations with bullets; you must burn their bodies. The villages were nothing but breeding grounds for their monsters."
"I understand those villages, like Paula, Caroline, and Eva," Lucy explains, referring to the villages by their objective names on the map. "We couldn't save them at all. But what about Sally and Luna?"
"We had to be sure," Karl growls, uncrossing his legs and sitting upright. His voice grew louder. "Their 'preacher' infected those villages with his cancerous ideas. I had to make an example!"
"The vultures ate him…" Lucy says, teeth clenched in anger. "I went to a shrink for two years to detach from that!"
"He got off easy," Karl replies nonchalantly. "I wanted to put him on that pole and let the wolves get to him. But I couldn't help that the guys started getting crazy with him. I still can't believe how quick the buzzards made him disappear once enough of the skin was stripped from his chest."
"Do you not hear yourself?" Lucy questions him, taking another drink from the bottle. "How easy you speak of leaving a man out to be eaten by vultures?"
"That 'Man' turned people into Cronenberg horrors and chained kids up to rape them," Karl replied with a cold monotone. "His followers weren't even people. If we showed mercy, we would have had the infection extend to the WHOLE of Messenia province and the Varus province in Arcadia. We did what we had to do."
"My soul feels black and heavy after what we did there…." Lucy says regretfully. "The men… The women… The children… Even the animals…."
"You can't give the Sirens any mercy," Karl explains harshly. "Just like you can't give the Sarkics, The Daemites, or any of the residents of the abyss. They are all the same."
Lucy takes another long drink from the bottle, followed by another hit from the cigarette. Its small flame highlighted the darkness under her eyes. The intel officer Karl once knew as a robust young woman with an eye for intel work like a bloodhound had obviously fallen under the spell of shellshock.
Though he couldn't blame Lucy for suffering from it. She'd been through two campaigns during the worst paranormal events during the 'Incursion,' as the war against the eldritch terrors was known.
"We had a job to do, Lucy," Karl reassures her as he takes another drag off his cigarette. The smoke filled the room, masking the table briefly between the two. Reaching through the smoke for the bottle, Karl takes another drink. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"Easy for you to say," Lucy's voice grew gruff as her face took a nasty expression. "Black Hunter."
"What makes you any better than me and that moniker?" Karl asks her calmly. Though inside, he wanted to empty the magazine of the submachine gun into Lucy for the insult. "If I remember correctly, You found the kids and the first sarkic ritual site."
Lucy withdraws, taking another puff. "Those fucking kids…. Chained up in the church naked…." Her voice was shakier and hate-filled. "Bastards…"
"And what did we do after that?" Karl asks her, already knowing the answer.
"I don't remember." Lucy lies.
"You said," Karl replies, pointing at her dramatically. "You wanted to make them pay. Then what? Do you forget that too? I remember that day in detail."
Lucy says nothing, hugging herself in some attempt at self-comfort. But Karl didn't stop, "We killed everyone who allowed that crime to those kids to continue. Just like we did to the Sarkics, who turned the rest into abominations."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Lucy shouts. "I did nothing wrong! How can someone be the end all be all of what is right and wrong?"
A wide tooth grin overtook Karl's face as he took another drink. Setting it hard onto the table, Karl replies coldly. "Oh, I'm not the one judging another man's sin. I know it was hard for you to see and have a hand in what we did. But it was the only thing we could have done to save them from their indolence. We only did what we had to do."
Lucy began to cry, everything becoming so overwhelming that she broke down.
"Are you afraid?" Karl asks her intensely.
"May I be frank with you, sir?" Lucy asks respectfully, trying to wipe away the tears.
"You may," Karl says calmly.
"Something inside me died that day," Lucy explains, her voice ghostly. "While we burned the church. When we left, I felt like you."
"You're right," Karl interjects. "Your innocents died. Then we went to the Waldreichs, and we became the same, Or at least you were where I was at once."
"What do you mean?" Lucy asks, reaching for the bottle again. But pauses and finishes her cigarette down to the filter. "I didn't take up the black coat of death to terrorize the masses and hunt them down."
"I threw on that black coat of death long before that." Karl corrects her. "Before you were a twinkle in your Daddy's eye, I was in the shit. I only threw on that coat because I had to. I was the Black Hunter before we had to retreat away from the world to Niflheim. What you saw during that cleansing was someone I wanted none of you to see, but, like Aurelian, I had to do what I had to do. Only that legend that monster could have stopped the abyss."
"You're telling me you can stop being Death himself?" Lucy replies in a taunting voice. "Bullshit. Hunter 6? Like you'd give up that title, even for a radio handle, you're still the Black Hunter. No wonder Mr. Z sent you here. You'd cross the Neu-Rhine river to usurp him if you had to."
"One more cheap shot like that," Karl replies harshly. "And I'll paint the wall with your brains. That's the line."
"I didn't mean it, at least the last part I didn't." Lucy retracts, noticing the blunt hint. "I'm not you, Sir. I couldn't do the things you did during or before the war."
"I never said become me," Karl interjects. "My point was to make you understand that I'm not proud of being known as 'The Black Hunter.' It's not a title I'm proud of, But at least I can use it to rattle the enemy's nerves. But it doesn't mean some things we did doesn't fuck with my head."
"And what would that be?" Lucy asks, noticing Karl's cigarette going out. Handing him another, Karl begins.
"Taking in the HVTs of the native bandit groups, I still shudder when I had to explain to that one guy's little daughter that her Daddy had a meeting with the Black Hunter," Karl says, lighting the cigarette. "Hitting the caravans full of drug dealers, rum runners, and slavers. Some of the shit they were doing makes me shiver. But a lot of things just seem to run together now. Though the fact the war is basically over scares me the most."
"At least for you, it ends," Lucy laments. "It will never be over for me. Intel never rests; we are always fighting in the shade. Maybe they'll let you retire? I've heard the Neu-Ruhr Valley is a nice place to live."
"I've thought about it." Karl reluctantly admits. "But it's just that: Thoughts. Nothing more than pipe dreams. Z is shutting down my unit, and Claudia says she'll bring it up to the consul to privatize my guys for other operations. I don't see us all going to the Ruhr to farm or whatever…."
"I guess your post here might be a good push for you then to work for this." Lucy says, "Maybe everything will pan out unless you get killed."
"Maybe," Karl replies, smirking. "I'm pretty hard to kill, though. But who knows? I just know that everything might turn out alright. I just want all this said and done, you know?"
"I know what you mean," Lucy agrees, her eyes red from crying. "I'm sorry… I had a moment there. I might need to take my meds, but the booze won't work well with it."
"It's OK; I also got a little out of hand. Things are just rough…." Karl says quietly. "Some days are… Harder than others."
"Same here…" Lucy replies, hanging her head low and taking another puff. "Thank you…"
Before him sat the survivor of two of the most brutal campaigns that the men and women of the 13th Grenadiers. While still as jaded and emotional as a Lieutenant, Lucy was a broken Captain scared by all she saw. As much as he wanted to stay and talk more about days gone by, Karl couldn't.
"Anytime, Lucy," Karl tells her, unloading the machine gun. "I don't think I'll be needing this then."
"I'm guessing you didn't come here to catch up or kill me then," Lucy smirks.
"I didn't know who Coyote 6 was," Karl said frankly. "If it was anyone else, I would have to use it more than likely."
"Good to know." Lucy chuckles. "Then what brings you here?"
"Operation Unthinkable," Karl says, puffing off his cigarette. "What do you know about it?"
Lucy's face turned white, and she reached for the bottle, finishing the rest of it. "How do you remember that?! Who told you?!"
"The META ship is known as Raiden," Karl says, confused as she gets up, looking around for things on the walls. "The one that sent the drone to attack me at my office and mentioned Attu."
"We must go," Lucy tells him, grabbing the parts of her issued pistol. "Load your weapon, and we need to leave."
Karl loads the submachine gun aggressively and stands up to train the muzzle of the submachine gun on Lucy, "Not so fast."
"What the fuck Karl!?" Lucy shouts. "We don't have time! Isn't it obvious!?"
"I don't care if those META girls are planning something," Karl replies, monotoned. "Tell me about the operation. You fucking know something, and it doesn't take a gynecologist to see that."
"Sir, We can't play these games here!" Lucy interjects. "If that drone that attacked you is intact, then we can get the intel to preemptively strike them! If not, we will lose thousands of lives, and the whole operation here is kaput!"
"Fuck the operation," Karl growls, clutching the machine gun tightly. "Tell me about Operation Unthinkable."
"I only know enough to tell you that there was a good reason why it was buried," Lucy admits. "I just remember that we had a lot of people go into the water…."
"I don't recognize the bodies in the water…" Karl whispers as blood drips from his nose.
"Oh shit…." Lucy gasps, dropping the pieces of the pistol onto the ground. "They got you… You were there…."
"I don't recognize the bodies in the water…"
He drops the submachine gun, letting it swing to his side as he grabs his temples. Blood dripped to the floor as he said the phrase repeatedly.
Lucy runs to her desk and grabs an object that appears as a nasal spray disseminator. She runs over and forces the device into his nose, emptying its contents immediately. Karl thrashes as the contents burn every portion of his face violently.
"Do you remember? Do you remember?" Lucy chants, moving backward to her desk to get her phone. "Go into the water, Go, Go, Go."
Karl grabs the submachine gun and fires a burst at the window, missing Lucy completely. He charges towards the door, throwing his weight against it and breaking it open. His mind goes blank with only one objective remaining: Exfiltrate.
Lucy's group calls all her teams immediately, "Guidons! Guidons! Guidons! All call signs! Dresden, Dresden, Dresden. All call signs! Seize Hunter 6!."
The faint bursts of suppressed automatic fire could barely register through the walls as Lucy threw her pistol together. Running outside her office, she found shell casing rolling on the ground, but no bodies. The Spookhouse Agents that were present were knocked out cold, and the doors were covered in bullet holes. A roaring engine caught Lucy's attention and drew her outside, only to catch Karl speeding into the night.
From above watched the dark expression of Typhoon. Her black trench coat fluttered in the wind as she followed the sedan rush down the sleepy streets. Raiden smiles and reaches for her communicator. "Ember, you are clear for the attack. Begin the Operation."
Thousands of miles away on Attu Island, a garrison of over five hundred support troops, staff officers, and a small collection of combat troops received shipments of Siren parts and components daily. Support staff spent most of their time sorting through functional pieces for packing and shipment; others were broken down further if they were too damaged or for study by the tech department.
A soldier at his guard post dug into the mountains and scanned his sector with a large thermal sight mounted on a tripod mount. His comrades just began their guard shift for the day and were receiving their situation brief. The Sergeant in charge lights a cigarette and props his AK-103 rifle against the concrete interior. "Gill, Did you eat?" The Sergeant asks the soldier on the thermal sight.
"Roger Sergeant," Gill replies, shaking a brown MRE bag. "I had an MRE. The chow here is starting to make my stomach turn."
"I know, right?" The Sergeant agreed. "I wish they would let us fish here. But high command wants us to stay in the bunkers when not on patrol or deployment prep. You see anything?"
Gill pans the thermal over to the west. "I got three signatures! Small ones! It might be those chicks again!"
"Send out a recon asset!" The Sergeant barks. "It might be those bitches from the last time!"