Chapter Text
Disclaimer: All Azur Lane source material belongs to Yostar .
CH-1: Transfers and Reports
Unknown POV
It was a dark, wind filled night that met my tired eyes as I stirred and looked out across the lonely north Pacific seas. Its waves splashed and roared against the side of my lifeboat as it floated along, full of lost sailors like myself who were clinging to whatever hope and warmth we could find in each other.
If this story was of a different circumstance, most would have thought all of us to be unlucky to be among such misery, but since the only alternative for us at the time was to be dead, I wasn’t about to complain… not yet at least.
We had been floating along for… actually, I had no exact idea for how long it had been since this ordeal began, days, perhaps even over a week. The last thing I remembered prior to waking up here was giving the order to abandon ship in the command bridge, then there was a sudden heat and shockwave of an explosion that knocked me overboard into the cold water unconscious. The other survivors said they pulled me out as they left the wreckage, with one less lower leg than before.
Despite my injury, as the most senior of the group, it was my job to rally everyone's spirit. Tell them we would make it as long as we did it together, and to not lose hope. For the first few hours after I woke up, that’s what I tried to be; their leader, their solid ground, their captain. But as the days and nights dragged on, and the fewer faces there seemed to be each morning, my resolve and determination began to fade as the bitterness of the northern cold bit into me.
The cold… by god, even the simplicity of such a small word hardly seems appropriate to define what we were all facing . I thought as I scanned the line of freezing men. Many of them had lost feeling in their limbs long ago, and my three remaining ones were slowly joining them.
But surprisingly, the cold no longer bit as harsh as it did for me on the first day or so, in fact I occasionally felt a small burning sensation, which probably wasn’t a good sign. It brought up some vacant memories of being told of such things in a warm classroom once but I couldn’t think of the full memory. In the end, I decided to bear with it as did most of the others; there wasn’t much choice not to anyway.
Taking a deep breath despite it biting my throat, I returned my thoughts to simply observing the darkness of the sea and my slightly visible breath being shown in the dim light of the coming dawn.
At least I know I’m still breathing. I thought depressingly.
The sound of a man coughing somewhere drew my attention from the sea, but I couldn’t see who was doing it. In fact most of the dozen or more men who I sat next to hadn’t moved at all in several hours. I looked for the visible condensation of their breaths as I had with my own… there weren’t enough left.
Forcing my eyes away and back to the sea, I chose to not look at them again. I had viewed enough death already.
Perhaps we’ll need to throw anyone who is dead overboard? Too much weight and the boat might flip if the waves kick up anymore …No, not yet at least. Not until they become too much of a burden. I thought, my mind not able to accept such a steep measure just yet.
“ Cough! Cough!” there was the cough again, it was closer than before, must have been the man next to me, I wondered how I didn’t notice him the first time. He must have something to say, hopefully it wasn’t a ‘we’re all doomed’ rant.
“ Cough! hugh … L-look… out yonder capt’n, t-the sun… is rising.” The choked voice finally spoke with a few nudges from the man's arm on me. His statement broke my trance again and I urged my head to turn to the bow that now pointed East.
The voice was right, the sun was indeed beginning to clear the horizon, the few clouds in the sky turning a fearsome red, and the star lit night sky brightening as well.
The sun would be peeking over in a few minutes, It would be a welcome sight.
“...G-good eye… sailor.” I stuttered back to him, and for a moment I felt it was time to be the captain again, so I cleared my throat and put as much force as I could into my voice. “L- cough- look ahead men. Another night… another day. Stay with me, we still …have a chance. Aye?”
Across the boat, there were several slow but audible ‘aye captain’s said in reply to me. More so than I expected to hear which comforted me if only a little.
Though sleep continued to pull at me, I forced myself to stay awake a little longer, so I snuggled further into my already cold and frozen coat as I waited for the light to come. But despite my efforts, my eyes ended up closing on me, and my thoughts drifted back home once again.
The small, uneven, and hilly farm fields surrounded by miles and miles of forest land, few actually farmed in the area anymore so it was mostly just grassy fields. Those annoying old roads that curved and moved with the land, like the route of a roller coaster. That run-down rusted red barn near the river that I once imagined as my mighty castle, and I it’s all powerful ruling king.
But most importantly, to her.
The flow of her warm brown hair as it waved in the wind like a banner of victory, the way her face smiled in that odd way that was quirky yet so beautiful at the same time, the way were small hands felt in mine as we wandered down the old tails with the big city off in the background. The little girl she held that hugged her side, almost an exact copy, save for the eyes she took from me. They laughed and smiled at me in welcoming happiness and love.
“I’m home.” I could hear myself say.
The memories brought immense warmth, though it wasn’t physical. It was the kind of warmth only hope could bring you, the kind you’d think of to get through the rough days of life, the kind you dedicate everything you have to protect. I remembered the promise I made to her when the war began.
“I promise, when I make it through to the end of all this suffering and bloodshed, we will go home, find a quiet little place in the world, and live the rest of our lives in peace. ” She’d simply smiled, called me a dreamer, and hugged me one last time.
A dreamer's wish it may be, but it was a one I imagined was shared by most who left for the war, though there had been some who looked forward to it, probably thinking it would end rather quickly. Yet after three years of bloodshed, there seemed to be no end in sight.
“Sir?”
Then, as if the heavens themselves had answered, warmth flooded my face and I opened my eyes to see the glorious light of dawn finally peaked from beyond the sea’s horizon…
“Sir, can you hear me?”
…Yet it shattered in an instant when the sound of a thunderclap and the force of a hurricane brought everything crashing down. The light blinked out, and I was once again drowned in the darkness of the sea.
“Commander Ford, wake up.”
0600 hrs - April 3rd, 1972
United Nations Defense Fleet Headquarters - Dublin, Ireland.
Admiral Horatio Puttnam Commanding.
Ford POV
“Commander Ford, could you wake up please.” a feminine voice asked, it held an Irish accent and was followed by a small shaking of my shoulder forcing my eyes to slowly open up but quickly closed them back, the light of the room blinded me and forced me to start blinking.
Wiping my eyes and letting them adjust, I finally looked up to see a woman in the blue military dress uniform of the United Nations Defense Fleet, her black hair wrapped in a firm bun and the rank of a sub-lieutenant showing clearly on her shoulders and coat wrists.
“Are you awake sir?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
“ Chm, chm … yes, sorry.” I said as I gave myself a quick overlook and was relieved to see I had not ruffled my own uniform too much in my sleep. Unlike the woman's blues, my own was of a tan color that made wrinkles more obvious and informed everyone around me that I was of the Eagle Union Navy, which probably only made me stick out more given I was in the UNDF headquarters building.
… Headquarters building?
And all of a sudden I realized my embarrassing mistake; I had fallen asleep in the lobby!
Quickly pushing from my seat to try and regain some form of my dignity, I was hit with a wave of light-headedness and my right leg faltered, nearly bringing me back on my ass. Thankfully the sub-lieutenant grabbed my arm and steadied me.
Thanking her, I reached back for my cane that was leaning on the seat next to me and with it in hand I was able to properly stand, or at least as proper as one can with a prosthetic leg they are still getting used to. Glancing back, I saw her tag identify her name as Halevy.
“Um, uh… Thank you for the hand Lieutenant Halevy. I’m sorry, I- chm … I arrived late last night and I didn’t know where the closest open hotel was and the on duty guard said there weren’t any open bunks available in the local barracks so I decided to wait here till morning.” I said, still trying to pull myself together.
Halevy simply sighed with a small shake of her head. “It’s alright commander, the inns around here never stay open long enough for twenty-four hour service, and the barracks are already as full as it gets. Still, the lobby wasn’t the best choice to stay and the duty officer should have said as such. But, lucky for you, I’m usually one of the first to arrive in the morning so you at least weren’t on exhibit for too long.” she said and I gave her my thanks again.
“But, may I ask why you are here sir? We don’t often have officers from the Union visit all the way out here.”
“I’m actually a new transfer from the Union.” I said, intriguing her.
“Really, we don’t get many volunteers from them anymore, any documentation?” she asked. I nodded then shifted slightly to better access my coat pocket. I pulled out my folded appointment orders and gave them to her.
As she gave them a look, I observed her a little closer. Though she was a simple sub-lieutenant, Halevy's ribbon racks were thick, indicating she was experienced in her field. Which made her somewhat casual attitude towards me understandable, in fact it was welcoming in a way. When she finished her eyes were slightly wider than before, no doubt due to the special instruction in the orders.
“A meeting with Admiral Puttnam himself?! No wonder you're antsy… respectfully, sir.” she said, straightening a little, probably noticing she might be acting a little too relaxed with the conversation, but I waved her worries off as I still had a small smile from her humor.
She offered one back, then folded the documents back up. “The admiral should’ve already arrived so, if you’ll allow me sir, I’ll go make sure he knows you're here.”
“I’d appreciate that lieutenant. Thank you.”
“In the meantime, the loo is just around that corner if you want to… freshen up.” she said with a noticeable smirk as she scratched her chin then just turned and left. Confused, I rubbed my own jaw, and then sighed as I understood what she was trying to say.
I need a shave, and a shower too, but I doubt they’ll have that in the lobby restroom.
I sighed then bent down and opened my duffel bag at my feet to grab my few hygiene items. After asking another desk officer to watch my belongings, I entered the restroom and began to bring myself up to the standard expected of a Union naval officer, or at least as close as I could manage.
The shaving and teeth bushing went fast and a thorough wipe of deodorant had me feeling, and smelling, much better. My dark hair could have used a trim but it still held a modicum of military style to it with a quick rinse of faucet water on it. After one more splash of water on my face to wake me up, I placed my uniform back on and did another overlook of it in the mirror.
Each patch was clean, every pin and medal correctly placed, and the few wrinkles that were noticeable were not bad enough to think I was not diligent in my appearance. All in all, it wasn’t too bad for over sixteen hours of sitting in not so comfy aircrafts and then a nap in an admiral's lobby.
As a final step, I brought my right hand fingers to my left ring finger and was relieved to feel the familiar curves of my wedding band that rested there. It reminded me of a simpler, happier time. It brought a small ache that slivered into my chest, but I pushed it aside and focused my mind on the here and now.
Taking a deep breath and feeling ready to go, I suddenly felt a grumble in my stomach that reminded me of the last three or four meal times I missed and it made me wish I had a snack to eat, or at the very least a cup of coffee.
A smoke would be nice too, but business before pleasure as they say. I thought, padding my pocket to feel the canister of cigars I carried around with me, they were more expensive than traditional cigarettes, but I never could get used to having to inhale that smoke all the way into my lungs. The thought alone brought back that same nauseous feeling that made me throw up the first time I tried one.
After leaving the restroom and thanking the desk officer for watching my things, which was only a single duffle bag and a travel case, I sat down in the seating area and dutifully awaited the sub-lieutenant from before to come back.
While waiting, I unconsciously began to rub my right thigh after subconsciously feeling an itch that wasn’t really there. It was a nervous habit I picked up after I lost the lower half of it during the war. In its place was a prosthetic that still tended to itch despite it being designed to be as comfortable as possible.
Various doctors said that after a while my body would adjust to walking with it and it would become as natural as my old leg, but I still kept the cane around despite knowing I probably could go without it. I’m sure some psychologist would have come up with some complicated reason for that but lucky for me I didn’t have one, well at least not any more.
As the minutes drew by, a few of the staff that entered gave me curious looks, some looking away right after they noticed the cane, which was something I grew used to too. But none paid me any attention and went about their jobs like any other day, for which I was thankful for.
After my third yawn, I was about to bring out one of the small books I packed to pass the time, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Lt. Commander Ford.” I looked over to see Lieutenant Halevy had returned. “The admiral says you may go up, he’s currently looking into something but you may wait in his office. You can leave your duffle with me at the desk.”
Nodding in thanks, I arose shouldering my things and walked over to place them beside her desk while also still trying to ignore more glances I got from the few other servicemen who were present and overheard Halevy. Their attention no doubt being drawn to the announcement of a random Union officer meeting with the admiral, which was well worth some office gossip.
Thanking her once again and after getting directions to the admiral’s office, I continued to the elevator and up I went to the directed floor.
The UNDF’s Dublin headquarters building wasn’t an overly large one with only three stories in height and fashioned out of old red bricks. It most likely used to belong to some major company from before the war, considering it’s close proximity to the docks it was likely a shipping cooperation. Though over its years of UNDF occupancy, it seemed to be holding up well, but it still didn’t have the grandeur or military design I was used to back in the Union.
At least their elevators didn’t play terrible music. I thought as the elevator opened up into a hallway.
The floor was about equally as old fashioned in design as the main floor, with its walls mostly creamy in color and having several paintings on the walls of various famous admirals and historical events. There were a couple rooms of office space where various officers and senior enlisted began their morning routines of their jobs. Yet there seemed to be more open spaces than there were officers, meaning this area used to be a lot busier than it was currently.
Following the directions I was told, I made my way down the hallways and corridors, counting the doors as I went till I got to the correct one. I was aware of more glances from a few people as I passed them or their offices, the thump of my cane being a kind of attention grabber, but again, I ignored them as I came up to the office door I was looking for.
The door in front of me had a window with the words: Office of Admiral Horatio T. Puttnam, painted in gold lettering, and through the door window I saw there was a secretaries office before the admirals. Both appeared to be empty, so I decided to wait in the secretary’s office that had waiting chairs set up, but as I reached to open the door, a voice stopped me.
“Excuse me, sir?” I looked behind me to see a tall male officer standing before me.
From the ranks on his UNDF uniform, he was a Commodore if I remembered correctly; It was a rank equivalent to a Rear Admiral (2nd) in the Union Navy. It was also a reminder that the Defense Fleet had adopted the rank structure of the Royal Navy over that of the Union due to a majority of the coastal ports assigned to the new organization being donated from the British, a point that was argued with the Union since they instead had provided the most ships; the entire thing has since become a bit of a salty subject for the Union, though I really didn’t care much about it.
That aside, I straightened my stance and addressed the officer with the respect expected of me since he was still technically a flag officer. “Good morning sir.”
The officer, his name tags identifying him as Commodore Walters, didn’t return the greeting and instead gave me a look over that spoke of a small smug superiority. From his accent he hailed from Britain, and the awards on his uniform presented him as an experienced officer, but his eyes were cold and malicious.
“Is there something I can help you with ah… Lieutenant Commander?” The commodore asked after he finished giving my uniform a rather unimpressed look despite it being fairly well adorned with my service accomplishments, though his eyes did pause on my cane for a second longer than needed.
“I’m here to see Admiral Puttnam, I have an appointment.” I responded with a nod to the admiral's office, though Walters only raised an eyebrow.
“I am not aware of any such meeting planned this early in the morning, do you perhaps have any proof of such an appointment?” he asked, coming to stand only a few feet away from me.
Sighing internally and withdrawing my orders of transfer and a letter of special request from my old commanding officer from my pocket, I handed both of them to him.
As annoying as this was for me, I knew he was probably just doing his job; it is true that not anyone can just come up and meet an admiral, but he still unnerved me. Reading the orders with focus like a teacher looking for even the smallest spelling error, when he finally finished on the orders, he only grazed over the letter before folding it back up.
“Well, according to these reassignment orders, you have been granted a meeting with the admiral's office , I don’t see anything in them specifying that you are to meet directly with the admiral himself.” his eyes returned to me with that same look of superiority on them. “I’m afraid you must have overestimated the parameters of your orders lieutenant commander. If you would return to the lobby, I will have one of my staff bring you up to see me when I have a moment. Then we will look into whatever details there are regarding this matter.”
I had heard his words, but the small part of my brain that was experienced in the language of bullshitting, translated it differently. “ You are not important enough for the boss to see, go back and wait for me to deny you later.”
It wasn’t my first time dealing with an officer like this. The kind who like to toss around their position, rank, and/or authority over everyone and anyone they can; to let them know he was their superior and had power over them in one form or another. The only way to deal with such an individual directly is to wait them out, and look for the best opportunity to outmaneuver their proposed authority.
Perhaps I can reason with him. I thought before I tried out an idea.
“I appreciate your attention to this sir, but the admiral is expecting me. The desk aid downstairs personally confirmed my meeting with the admiral before instructing me to wait in his office for him to return. If you need to check with her or the admiral yourself to confirm this, I can wait in his secretary's.” I knew that once I was off this floor, the likelihood of meeting the admiral today would diminish if Walters was left to it; if I stayed and waited, then he could only ignore me for so long.
Unfortunately, the commodore didn’t seem to like my idea. His eyes narrowed and his stance became straighter in an effort to make him look bigger and taller despite him already having an inch or two on me in height. It was a common command tactic that worked on almost every lower ranker in every military across the world both with officers and enlisted. But no matter how big he looked, I held my ground knowing I had survived bigger fish than him
And unfortunately, with being even closer to me, I got all of his unflattering face very well stained into my brain. His body and face was more on the skinny side, his skin was a bit pale, and he had a small but noticeable forward lean on his waist. Meaning he’s probably spent more time indoors sitting behind a desk in the last few years.
And as for all those shiny awards on his chest, it wasn’t hard to look accomplished in the military after a while; service medals were given to all participants of an operation, be they frontline fighters or rearguard supply personnel. For all I knew, those were all simply participation trophies.
At the very least, he could use a breath mint. I thought as my nose caught his bad morning breath and I forced my face to not react to it.
“That was not a request, lieutenant commander . Who was the desk officer who allowed this?”
“Lieutenant Halevy if I am not mistaken sir but-”
“She should have come to me first, and not have bothered the admiral himself with such trivial things. I’m not sure how it may work for you yanks over the pond, but here we strive to follow the strict rules of the chain of command. So if you want to see the admiral, you must first be allowed to, by me . As the admiral's chief of staff, that is my responsibility. So you can either come to my office and have your discussion with me, or you can see yourself out of the building before I have you escorted out by-”
“What’s all this?” a deep yet fluent accented voice spoke from behind me.
Walters' eyes flicked passed me and immediately widened slightly in surprise and his face reddened in what I guessed was embarrassment.
When I turned around to look, I was greeted with the sight of a slightly short bald man carrying a thermos under one arm, a file folder in the other, and three full golden bars glistening on each of his shoulders.
I immediately turned fully around and stood at attention with more force than I had for the commodore, which was only natural when addressing a man such as Admiral Horatio T. Puttnam.
And he wasn’t alone. Standing at his side were three individuals, Lieutenant Halevy, another male officer, and a woman.
The man was an impressive looking person, with a build and air of an experienced sailor and his uniform showed him to be the rank of a captain. His face was handsome despite a small scar on his cheek and his blond hair was well groomed, presenting him as a man of discipline in both his looks and actions. To me, he looked more like a battle hardened marine than a naval officer, but the most intimidating feature were his eyes, they were an ice blue that could make even a summer's day feel cold.
His name tape read as Captain Thire. A rather strong name for sure and I must admit it sounded badass and seemed rather fitting for the stone faced man.
The woman, in contrast, was… strikingly beautiful. She was about five foot eight with exquisite maroon eyes and silky crimson hair with two long bangs framing her face and the rest tied back in a bun with a braid around it. Her uniform was quite striking too with her top being a long sleeved white dress shirt that contrasted well with golden lines around her collar and down the twin button lines that graciously outlined her prominent chest. She wore a rather short white skirt that also had matching golden lines to her top that accentuated its length down to her mid-thighs. Her legs were adorned with black silk stockings that framed them down to a pair of heeled boots on her feet.
Finishing off the ensemble was a black officers cap she clutched under her arm and a silver cane topped with a red jewel of some kind, it certainly was more fashionable than my simple wooden T grip cane.
She was definitely the most attractive woman I had ever met in recent memory and she looked like she belonged in a portrait. But her face told a different story. While still beautiful, her features were a smooth and clean slate, holding an air of pride and majesty to her that one look from her dark violet eyes probably made whoever got caught staring quickly rethink their life choices.
She was, without a doubt, a Kansen. A war maiden of the seas.
Even though it isn’t my first time meeting one face to face, they certainly know how to present themselves to be remembered, she has the air of a queen. Should I bow or something? I humorously thought, while trying my best not to make my observations of the woman too noticeable.
Both she, the captain, and Lieutenant Halevy, stood quietly behind the admiral and held observant looks, though I did catch a small glimpse from both Halevy and the woman towards Walters that did not have a friendly looks to them.
Which means he must like pissing people off a little too often.
“Well, Mr. Walters?” the admiral continued, his gray eyes roamed over me for a second and then back to the commodore whose voice was now brimming with respect that, strangely, had been completely lacking when he was talking with me.
“Pardon me, admiral. This Union officer here was trying to obtain an audience with you without going through the proper channels of the chain of command. I was just about to hear his case before it was brought to you to confirm if your attention was warranted. If you would just give me a few minutes I can complete this discussion with him in my own office and-”
“That,” the admiral stopped Walters in his tracks with a raised hand, “will not be necessary Mr. Walters. I have actually been expecting Mr. Ford’s arrival this morning. So I’ll take it from here, thank you.” he turned to the woman behind him. “Please ensure the commander and I are not interrupted during our conversation.”
The woman nodded as the admiral turned to look at Captain Thire. “Get in contact with Captain LeGranda and assess how the dispersion of Fifth Squadron is progressing.”
The captain simply nodded, took one last blank look at me, then walked away taking Halevy with him despite her obvious interest in watching us. The admiral then brought his attention back to us and went to his office door. “With me if you will, commander.” he said to me as he went through the first door and entered his personal office past the secretary’s desk. The woman followed him after giving Walters a cold glare, then took a stance outside his office door, holding it open and gesturing for me to follow.
I couldn't help but take one last glance at the commodore next to me, his reddening face was barely able to hide the anger and embarrassment he now felt being caught by the admiral. I wanted to be sly and give him a knowing smirk.
But instead I did the smart thing and didn’t linger near him, entering the admiral's office without so much as a word or second glance back at the man. In my experience, such officers are ones you do not want to get on the bad side of if you can help it and while I am probably already there, I knew better than to dig myself any deeper.
One ‘ miss handled’ document from him might mean a lot of trouble in the future for me. Hopefully I still get paid for whatever rank I’ll be getting. I thought, nodding thanks to the woman as I crossed into the office with her closing the door behind me.
Once in the admiral's office, the atmosphere changed from harsh awkwardness to a surprising calm. The room was rather simple and didn’t boast heavily of the admiral’s long career, but more towards his homage; pictures of friends and family littered the walls along with a model of what looked to be a british battleship that laid upon a wooden filing cabinet. The man himself was pouring the liquid contents of his thermos into a heating kettle, he took one glance back at me then returned to his task.
“Have a seat commander, I’ll be right with you.” he said.
“Yes, thank you sir.” Upon sitting, my anxiety must have been rather obvious if the admiral’s small smile he wore while pulling out some tea cups was anything to go by.
“I understand your accommodations last night were somewhat… unpleasant. I apologize for that, we were not expecting you to come so soon. I only learned of your impending visit last night. Would you like some oolong tea?” He offered a cup he had poured from his kettle.
The question was so out of the blue I took a second to accept it. In the few meetings I have had with flag officers, only a few had offered me a drink. That and I wasn't much of a tea drinker but with how empty my stomach was, anything was good enough for now.
Upon sipping it and finding the temperature and toasty flavor to be pleasing, I took another one and my mind suddenly calmed itself, my nerves relaxed, and the slight uncomfortable feeling I sometimes got in my leg lessened.
“I find a warm cup of tea tends to soothe me as well. When was the last time you ate something?” He asked as he took his own seat across from me.
“Not since…” it took me a minute to get the right answer, the change in time-zones was always hard to account for. “Not for a long while sir. I didn’t have much to eat before the flight over or on it. I tend to get air sick so the less in my stomach, the better. And since I landed in the dead of night, most restaurants were closed.” The admiral nodded in understanding, then pointed a finger out the window.
“There is a small sandwich shop down the right side of the lane from the main entrance, McKelly’s, I find they have an excellent variety with decent pricing and their cook is no slouch either, take some time to stop by after this.” His suggestion was welcomed with the image of a nice turkey sandwich in my mind and were it not for the tea, my stomach would have growled in longing.
“Thank you sir, I will.” I said. And after another few seconds of us both enjoying our drink, the admiral finally got to business.
“Well, Mr. Ford, upon being informed of your impending arrival, I began looking into your service history.” He set his tea aside and opened the folder he brought in with him, which I could only guess was mine; placing a pair of reading glasses on, he began listing off my credentials while I tried my best to not show my unease while my heart rate spiked up with each point.
“You started your career as an enlisted, trained and operated as a navigator and corpsman for four years then commissioned not long before the start of the war. After three years you were assigned to an escort destroyer, the USS Barry until…” he glanced up at me then back down, “until it was lost during the Gulf of Alaska campaign, where you were forced to take command of the ship after-.” Upon the admiral reading off that ship and battle, every other word after began to fade into the fog of my memory.
What anxiety the tea had relieved me of had come back ten-fold and I couldn’t help but watch as my mind took me back to that brittle, hopeless lifeboat out in the middle of the ocean with the harsh wind blowing at my face, the unrelenting chill that burned at my bones, and the ghostly black ships that hunted us like rats.
“-ander…Commander Ford?” The words brought me back to reality and I took a breath and saw that the admiral was looking at me with concern. Then I felt a small drop of liquid on my leg and noticed I nearly spilled all of my tea on me. Flustered, my brain went into a small panic trying to center myself.
“Um, chm, I-I’m so sorry sir. I didn’t mean to-”
“No. It’s alright.” His voice was softer than before, firm still, but it had a care in its tone as he removed his glasses and gave me a look of familiarity. He gestured to lay my cup down before he spoke again.
“I know.” he said, looking down then off to the wall. Taking a look over there too, I saw an old black and white picture of the admiral looking younger and standing along a ship's railing with a group of men smiling. On the bottom were the words: Officers of the 1st Colonial Fleet of the Azur Lane Initiative, November 3rd, 1939. Halifax.
November 3rd, 1939… the Siege of St. Lawrence. Then it suddenly clicked as to what he was getting at. He knew what it was like., To make a call that some might have called the wrong one, to watch as dozens or even hundreds of sailors jumped for their lives only for only a handful to survive the cold waters that awaited them.
I didn’t know all the details of that prolonged battle, but I know that the cost of victory was steep; out of thirty two ships, only thirteen survived and over two thousand sailors lost their lives. Despite that, the victory was a godsend to the entire world announcing that we could win against the enemy.
Looking back at the man sitting before me, I didn’t just see another high ranking veteran officer who helped to turn the tide of the war, I saw someone who knew loss. Who knew what it was like to fight the bitter cold of the water as it tried to pull you down, to watch as your fellow sailors failed in that fight and being helpless to do anything for them.
“Take a moment.” he said, and offered me a refill. I was thankful for it and the tea did its job once again as we both entered a welcomed silence for a while. It felt good, having someone who understood.
I wonder if he wouldn’t mind me…
“ Chm, It uh…” he set his cup down and gave me back his full attention once I began, “It was after we had taken back the Alexander Archipelago. Our task force had won three consecutive victories and we had pushed as far north as Yakutat Bay.”
I don’t know why I’m telling him this but it felt right to. Taking a second to get a breath and a sip of my drink, I saw the admiral was still listening intently.
“Vice Admiral Kinkaid wanted to keep the momentum going so he sent my ship's scout group further north to get a read on the enemy. It was a trap. We were surrounded, explosions and fires seemed to erupt everywhere. Our Kansen escorts were being overwhelmed and our manned ships were falling one after another.”
I brought my tea up for another sip, but found I had none left even though I didn’t remember drinking the rest. Not wanting more, I placed the cup on the desk and resumed my story with the admiral still quietly listening.
“Eventually there was a pause in the battle and I was told I was the highest remaining officer alive. With everything happening so fast, I made the only order I thought was right; I told the remaining ships to push back through to the fleet while the Barry held off the enemy. We must have lasted another… ten minutes, maybe less, before we were finally…” I closed my eyes and tried my best to push the horrible scenes and sounds away.
“How many survivors were there?” he asked after a moment.
“Only a dozen, there may have been more at first but…” So many good men were lost that day. I can still remember eating and talking jokes with those same crewmembers in the mess hall, but with just one instant they were gone like a candle blown out by the wind.
“... How long was it until you and the other survivors were recovered?” he continued. These details were probably in some report file that he could have read, but it was nice that he was allowing me to tell the story. I imagine the actual report of the event was slightly different in detail.
“They told me it was four days, but it felt a lot longer. Admiral Kinkaid brought the entire taskforce with him to make the final push north for Anchorage. I doubted they expected us to still be there.” I said.
It was a dark thought, but an honest one. The enemy rarely left survivors and sending recovery forces was always risky given they often didn’t return either.
“Tell me.” Puttnam began, “After so much time after the fact, do you regret your decision for your ship and crew to stay and fight?”
“No sir.” I replied only a second after, making the admiral raise a brow. “I regret having to make it, but it was still the right call.”
“Why?”
“Well…” I took a breath to steady myself, “If the Barry hadn’t stayed, then the rest of my scout group would have been lost with us, the fleet wouldn’t have been warned of the enemy's numbers, and the whole campaign might have been pushed back months if not abandoned all together. Even so, it was an order I wished I hadn’t needed to make.”
Everyday after that one, I had wished it had been someone else to be in command, or at the very least that I had died with my ship and had been spared from being haunted like this.
And I might’ve been there to meet them too. That last thought was one I quickly shoved back. Glancing down at my ring again, I reminded myself once more there wasn’t anything to be had by bringing that up again, only more pain. After one more breath, I looked up and saw the admiral nod his head solemnly, then he set my papers aside.
“I won’t ask anything further of that, but I am curious as to why you would choose to volunteer for the Defense Fleet? A man with your experience and battle wounds would have been resigned from the service with honors. And as for us, well we are not exactly as well equipped after the war's end either, although for us it was not out of a need to do so. Most of our numbers returned back to their home countries, leaving only a few experienced officers and Kansens to lead our now dwindling fleet. Myself included.” he smirked a bit at his own expense.
“Well sir, to be honest, you're right in that the Union navy didn’t have much need for someone with my… limitations .” I patted my fake leg with my cane for proof.
“After my rescue, I was in therapy for the remainder of the war and after it officially ended my contract was deemed fit for dismissal from the service. It was actually a common thing that the whole navy was being downsized from its wartime service numbers. But…” a scene of a city in ruins flashed before me. “... I wasn’t ready for civilian life, so I began looking into alternatives and found out the Defense Fleet would allow me to serve despite my prosthetic, so here I am.”
The admiral's face showed nothing but his annoyance at my explanation, making me think I might have said the wrong wording of my situation to him. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his interlocked fingers before speaking again.
“That is indeed an unfortunate situation, commander, and I admire your commitment to serve. But I must say again, an officer with your experiences, battle wounds, and with nearly a decade of service; I would think you would be well off if you retired and returned home. So why continue? Why join an international coalition that is guaranteed to take you leagues away from your own homelands? And why should I permit an officer with such a questionable lack of reasoning, into my fleet? Answer honestly please.” his look could have burned a hole through a battleship's armor, and I had to admit a small part of me was screaming to fold and quit this game while I could.
But instead I took another deep breath, trying to ignore the admiral's intense look, and took my time finding the right words to answer him. He was right, if I had retired I would have been well taken care of as a civilian and there would have been plenty of other jobs I could have probably done alright in. But…
A wave of brown hair blowing in the wind came to my mind, my heart no longer aching as hard as it used to after thinking of that beautiful sight, and what became of her.
“It’s… all I have left, sir.” he seemed puzzled at my answer.
“Explain.”
“The service, the dedication, the feeling of a purpose. Back stateside, I… no longer have close family or friends, no commitments, no career goals. It might seem somewhat pathetic but I really wouldn’t know what to do with myself outside of the service. I figured I would be accepted here, mostly because everyone says you're short handed on volunteers so…” I trailed off after admitting my somewhat embarrassing excuse. But all the admiral did was sigh a laugh and nod in agreement.
Then his tone then went from the calm and understanding gentleman to the firm and resolute admiral he was meant to be, which meant this conversation was getting even more serious. “You are not wrong in that assessment. But tell me Mr. Ford, are you aware of the current political situation of the world at the moment?”
Now that was a question that was out of the blue and I had to take a little longer to form an answer for that as well, though it was more due to my lack of understanding of such things. Politics were always a complicated subject, one I did my best to ignore when I could, but I at least knew enough to get by.
“I… know it isn’t good anymore, if it ever was to begin with. The Royals and Ironblood are still at each other's throats over the northern Atlantic, the Sakura are becoming more bolder in Indonesia, and the Union is leaning more towards isolationism than ever before. I also heard something about the French Republic being on the edge of a civil war, but that was mostly from rumors.” I told him.
“Unfortunately, you are correct in your interpretations Mr. Ford, as simple as they may be. The whole world seems to have regressed into their old bitter rivalries that were put aside during the war.” the admiral turned in his chair and stood up to take in the view of the harbor outside his window. The morning sun was now poking above the horizon and it reflected off the windows and the water of Dublin Bay.
“The feud between Britain and Germany has been simmering for decades, long before the war ever started, and now it has re-emerged more fierce than ever. The Sakura Empire’s fleet, after its monumental success in the war, now threatens to dominate all of eastern Asia just because they feel it is their godly right to do so, and because the Union is far too busy dealing with civil unrest in South America to give them any trouble for it. As for the rumor of a civil war brewing in the Republic, I’m sad to say you are not too far from the truth there either.”
A few tense seconds passed with me not knowing whether I should respond to his admissions or simply wait for him to do something else. Luckily and to my confusion he broke the silence with a gruff laugh and a shaking of his head.
“Hm, hm. Funny, isn’t it, commander? How quickly we humans are to return to the familiar ways of mistrust.”
“Sir?” I honestly didn’t understand where exactly he was going with this discussion, but Puttnam turned around and gave me a knowing smirk, waving me off with his hand.
“For now, it’s nothing for you to worry too much about, commander, but more to the point you are definitely correct in the fact that the Defense Fleet is very low on reliable officers. So I am very relieved to have one of your caliber coming into our service, no matter your unorthodox reasoning, we need all that we can get at this point.” he said.
“Does… that mean I get the job, sir? I don’t mean to downplay myself but I’m not exactly a shining example when compared to other officers I know of.” I admitted to him, feeling as though Puttnam might be buttering me up for something.
However, before he could clarify, the door opened and the Kansen woman from before poked her head in and spoke in a fluent British accent. “Pardon me admiral, but there is a call from the prime minister of Sierra Leone. He is asking to further discuss the future placement of Third Squadron there. You would do best to check back with him sir.”
The admiral sighed in annoyance. “Yes, that call was supposed to be today, thank you Monarch. Tell him I apologize for missing him and that I will call him back in half an hour.” The woman, now named Monarch, raised a brow at that.
“He will certainly not be happy being pushed off like that sir.” she pointed out to him, but Puttnam shrugged to her.
“Tell him he still owes me from that bet he lost a few months ago in Rome. That should buy me enough time to finish up here.” Monarch sighed at his response, but I didn’t miss the small smirk she wore as she nodded and exited the office.
“Sir?” I asked, turning back to him in confusion.
“ That issue, Mr. Ford, is partially what I was referring to by us lacking reliable officers and also why I accepted your application. Recently, two weeks ago to be exact, one of our squadrons stationed in Buenos Aires, had an… incident between its command and Kansen personnel. The details have been redacted and labeled as classified due to the central persons’ of interest who were involved in the incident.”
“For any incident to be given that much treatment sir, someone must have connections somewhere on high.” I stated and then hoped I wasn’t too out of line with that statement, but the admiral just seemed to nod in agreement. .
“That is correct, and unfortunately I cannot legally disclose any names, on the bright side the person responsible will soon no longer be serving in the Defense Fleet. But as a consequence, Fifth Squadron is being disbanded with its personnel and ships, at least those who chose to remain with us, being dispersed and sent to reinforce our other squadrons around the globe.”
“Does that pertain to the Third Squadron and the issue with Sierra Leone’s port of Freetown?” I asked, recalling what Monarch had said.
“Indeed it does, you’ve been to the port?” he asked.
“Yes, I visited there when I was a Petty Officer onboard a cruiser at the time. I never got the chance to see much of the port but it seemed like a nice place.” I said, the memories coming back slowly.
“Well, you may be getting that chance again sooner than you think. The truth is commander, things are far worse than what you probably have been told. During the war’s final days, the Defense Fleet was made up of fourteen squadrons, each being composed of at least fifteen to twenty Kansen ships along with an assortment of manned ships as well. But at the moment, the Defense Fleet now has only five squadrons in service, each with only less than a dozen Kansen’s averagely.”
That fact was surprising. I had known the UNDF had downsized since the war like the Union, but to have only a fourth of their strength left was… depressing. But now I knew why they were hiring so desperately.
“So what does that mean for me sir? In my application, I applied for a supply position, but from the sounds of it you might need me put somewhere else?” I wasn’t angry with the idea, annoyed yes, but having little choice in what my assignments are is something a military man grows used to after a while.
“Yes, I will. I’m assigning you to Third Squadron, as its executive officer.” Puttnam said, and immediately I regretted that I asked.
Executive officer?! That has to be one of the worst positions I could be assigned! And it isn’t just over a single ship, but an entire squadron of them! I tried my best to keep my frantic thoughts to myself, but I doubted I succeeded.
“That’s… quite an important position sir. I take it there’s no possibility of requesting a different assignment?”
“None at all, as I said we are low on reliable officers. I am aware that you have had limited occasions where you were placed in such a high command role, but this is our situation as it stands. The majority of our command personnel consists of officers with limited war time experience, most are former desk officers who saw an opportunity to finally have a sea command.” I immediately thought of an individual who seemed to fit that criteria who I had just had the pleasure of meeting and who just so happened to be sitting down the hall.
“Such as Commodore Walters sir?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t too far out of line. Thankfully, Admiral Puttnams face, scrunched in annoyance, nodded.
“Mr. Walters can indeed be put in that category. In fact, he has been pushing for a sea commission for years now, but between you and I, that man is far too set in his ways when it comes to commanding others. He has very little patience for mistakes and believes everything must be followed in the exact order and timeline they are set as. But a commander must be adaptable to alternative situations and be expected to bring the best out of his subordinates; now I know it is foolish to expect every officer to have those ideal qualities, but when I do find such an officer I can’t help but take advantage of them.”
He was looking at me strangely as he said that so I assumed he was referring to me as one of his ‘rare ideal officers’. I should be flattered but… I wouldn't say my experiences would match up too well with his ideals.
“I understand if what I am requiring of you is too much to take on, so I remind you that the Defense Fleet is an all volunteer service. If you feel you are not up to the task, you are free to say no and return to the Union, I promise I will say nothing of what has been discussed here between us.” Puttnam said, offering me one last back door.
I glanced down at my finger that fidgeted with my ring again as I thought. It was true, all I had to do was decline the position and I’d probably be on a flight back to the states by tomorrow. But then what the hell would I do with myself once I got there?
I looked back up and met the admiral's eyes, old with experience and wisdom, but also having a bit of a clever gleam in them. I realized he was testing me once again, to see if I actually had the guts to take him up on his offer. The smart thing would of course be to decline and go back home, take what disability benefits I could, find a simple desk job in some random country town and spend the rest of my life in obscurity.
Absently, my fingers traced the outline of my ring, the familiar curve focusing my thoughts and I finally made up my mind. Well… no one ever accused me of being smart I guess.
“Where do I sign sir?” I asked, the admiral's eyebrows rose up at that..
“I am not sure whether to be relieved or concerned that you agreed with such a… nonchalant tone. This job is fraught with great responsibilities that will follow you every hour of every day, you will be expected to fulfill those responsibilities while also keeping the peace within your squadron. Especially amongst your Kansen ships. Are you certain you can do that?” Puttnam asked.
“Well sir, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be your best officer, but I will promise to give you the best of what I have, for whatever that’s worth. As for the Kansens, I expect their issues are something like what’s been happening back home. Unjust resentment, sexist comments, and even sexual harassment.” Those were just the tip of the iceberg.
The Kansens' arrival during the war sparked a fire to the whole world, for better and for worse. Politics, religion, and especially militaries all began reforming themselves in order to adapt to these new and powerful feminine beauties. Some even incorporate them into their organizations such as the Iris Orthodoxy in the French Republic or the Shinto shrines of the Sakura Empire. The Royal and Union navies have even granted some Kansen with flag officer positions, though they were mostly honorary. Despite their high praise from the public, there were still some incidents where individuals tried to… indulge without the full consent of the Kansen's involved.
“The Defense Fleet has employed a strict anti-harassment and sexual-assault initiative in the last few years, with some success deterring such behavior, but as evident by the breaking up of Fifth Squadron, we are not always successful. So it goes without saying that I expect you to uphold yourself and your peers to the standard befitting of a modern disciplined military. As well as perform one extra duty along with that.”
“And what might that be sir?” I asked, randomly remembering advice from my father about reading the fine print before signing.
“Despite our small size when compared to the other global militaries, the Defense Fleet still has an ongoing mission to hunt down the Siren remnants that are still in hiding, which forces us to move what few ships we have to cover as much of the globe as possible. But if situations between our officers and Kansen continue to deteriorate we won’t have much of a fleet left at all. Which is why I want you to be my eyes and ears in Third Squadron.”
“You want me to be your spy sir?” I asked, a scene of a well dressed man dramatically kicking foe’s down left and right while spouting off witty remarks came to mind. Definitely not what I would picture myself doing.
“I believe a more appropriate term for it would be ‘informant’.” Puttnam chuckled at his own expense. “Third Squadron's commanding officer, Captain Augustus, is an old friend and a reliable officer who I trust in his actions and leadership. But after what happened with Fifth Squadron I need to be more certain of the situation and there is only so much a commanding officer is privy to within their command. That is where you come in.” He then opened a drawer and pulled out a small container and stood up, then gestured for me to stand up too and I did so promptly.
“There are dim days ahead of us, Mr. Ford. The world is full of uncertainty and mistrust, so I need the best I can find, or at the very least officers I can trust to do their duties to the best of their abilities.” he walked around the table to stand in front of me.
“I will have a full set of orders and a briefing packet written up and printed for you by the end of the day. I recommend you use that time to find a more suitable location to rest for the night and also see to meeting the quartermaster on the second floor, while I admit Union tan is a good look on you, we prefer azur blue around here. And lastly,” he handed me the container and nodded for me to open it. “I do believe you may need these.”
Inside was a set of ranks, two pairs of shoulder bands with three full gold lines and a single compass star. The rank of a UNDF full commander?
Surprised, I looked back up at the admiral to see a gleaming smile on his face.
“I wish it were under better circumstances, but the weight you will now bear on your shoulders will require something more sturdy than the bars of a simple lieutenant commander.” He raised his hand and I slowly took it, my mind still processing my abrupt promotion but I still managed to properly shake his hand that was hard and firm in its grip.
“Welcome to the United Nations Defense Fleet, Commander Ford.”
0700 hrs - April 4th, 19**
Ironblood Naval Base - Esbjerg, Denmark
Vice Admiral Victor Reuenthal Commanding
Reuenthal POV
Drizzly weather is what I awoke to earlier this morning, and in the few hours it took me to get to my office it has since not changed.
Not that I minded it much, the rain was a rather pleasing sight to me, of course those who hadn’t grown up in farm country would probably be baffled at my admiration for it. Regardless, I found it comforting in a time when comfort was a rare feeling in our nation.
Not for much longer though. I thought as I sipped my morning coffee, then my attention was interrupted by the ringing of a phone, looking to my desk I saw that it wasn’t my official office phone but instead was a special mobile phone I had laying on the desk in front of me. It was a call I had been waiting all morning for.
Setting my mug down, I picked the device up and I arose from my seat. Wanting privacy for the call, I made my way out onto my covered veranda that overlooked the harbor. Once out, I cleared my throat and answered.
“Professor?”
< “Yes, good morning sir.” > replied an older man's voice.
“Mh hm. What is your weekly report?” I asked, putting the phone between my head and shoulder while taking out a lighter and a pack of cheap cigarettes from my uniform's chest pocket.
< “I am afraid there has been little improvement to the timeline of the project sir, we only assimilated another twelve this last week, but of those twelve, all are showing satisfying response times and are functioning at optimal levels.” >
“Very good. Do you have an estimate for when the rest will be completed?” I asked into the mobile phone while I lit a cigarette in my mouth and welcomed the warm smoke down my lungs.
< “ Estimated time of completion is about a month admiral, possibly a few days more, their reprogramming is taking longer than expected. I ask for forgiveness on that issue, but I fear we must be cautious in this task if it is to succeed .” >
“There is no need to apologize for such a thing professor, you are accomplishing something that has never been done before, and I trust you to make the appropriate decisions. Besides, I have waited years for our day of reckoning to come, I can wait a little longer.” I said as I looked over the harbor, where around half a dozen ships laid moored or docked, their hulls freshly painted with the crimson red of the Ironblood.
Victory will be all the sweater. I thought to myself, a small smile finding its way on my face as the clouds parted enough to allow a sliver of sun to shine down onto the mighty warships. But my smile vanished as I heard the door to my veranda open.
“It is quite a magnificent sight, isn’t it? Though, I imagine it isn’t the best you have seen this morning” spoke the fluent voice of a woman as she walked her way to where I was standing overlooking the harbor. Knowing her voice, I relaxed and glanced over to see her.
Her sultry tone was matched only by her tight red, gray, and black dress wear that was in no way able to hide her body’s exotic curves, rather it brandished them even more by presenting observers with enough bare cleavage to leave little stretch to the imagination. The openings on both sides of her chest allowed a clear view of the sides of her breasts, which she made sure to show off to every onlooker whose eyes she managed to catch.
Her lower half was barely covered by her small dress (if it could even be called that) and her black stockings only reached her mid-thigh allowing for quite the show of her bare thighs and lower buttocks. Pale hair cascaded down her head with two small pig tails held by horn-like red hair clips, a single clump of strands dyed blood red nearly covered her left eye. Though, out of all that, it was her eyes that I found most appealing, they were crimson orange and seemed to burn with passion and smugness as bright as an inferno.
The same eyes that I was blessed to awaken to this morning. I thought, remembering the exquisite night of pleasure we shared. While there were many beautiful and sexually attractive Kansens within the Ironblood as well as all across the world, few could utilize their body’s gifted traits in such a tantalizing manner as Prinz Eugen could.
“Thank you or your report professor, continue your progress, I shall await your next call.” I said into the phone, not taking my eyes off Eugen for a second.
< “Very good sir. I have already sent you the more descriptive file on our progress. Good day, Admiral Reurenthal.” > The line ended and I placed the phone in my pocket.
“So… how goes the training of our new little doggies?” Eugen asked as she came closer to me and hooked her arm with my own in an obvious but hardly unwelcome show of affection. I gave a gentle squeeze cementing that fact.
“It goes at an even pace, Professor Kempf is nothing if not thorough in his actions. We should be ready in a month's time.” I said, my words were met by her groan.
“Ooooh! I have no patience for that!” she pouted, but then she leaned her breast further onto me. “But if that is what it is to be, at the very least it leaves us with plenty of free evenings for each other, yes?”
I merely smiled at the fact, my mind and body looking forward to those upcoming evenings. But my focus returned to me as another girl jumped up through the glass doors to the veranda, surprising myself a little and causing Eugen to smirk at my reaction, probably knowing that was going to happen. The new girl giggled at me then walked closer with a folder in her arms.
She was much smaller and younger looking than Eugen, with her head barely reaching my stomach. Her outfit was a simple blue one-piece swimsuit and, strangely, a one-armed brown jacket with an Iron cross medallion waving about on a string. Her most noticeable trait was her pink hair that, like Eugen, had two small pigtails held by black horned hairpins.
If I had not known better, I would have seen this girl as a simply cute young child off to the beach, instead of the submarine Kansen U-81.
“Kommandant, this just came in for you. It’s a report from that old doctor guy and something about the Defense Fleet or whatever.” she spoke as she wobbled excitedly on her feet while offering me the folder.
I smiled at her child like attentiveness to her duties, along with her lack of proper description, and placed my smoke back in my mouth so I could take the report from her. But upon holding the file, Eugen snatched my smoke out of my mouth and started partaking in it herself. I simply frowned and shook my head at her antics, but didn’t say anything of it, when it came to Eugen it was best to roll with whatever she does. Either that or risk her doing more… dangerous things.
“H-hey, I wanna have a try too!” U-81 pouted while pointing at the cigarette that Eugen now inhaled. The girl probably didn’t really understand what it meant to have a cigarette, but thankfully Eugen denied her, but the matured cruiser still teased her at the same time by blowing a puff of smoke at the submarine's face.
“How about now, little one? Still want it?” she teased.
U-81, her face contorted in distaste, began coughing from the smoke and dramatically ran away back to wherever she had come from while spouting curses to her elder. Eugen giggled at the scene while I gave her a disappointed look, to which she only giggled even more at my reaction, and then continued to smoke my cigarette.
I knew Eugen would apologize to the little sub eventually ( probably ), so I went back to the report and after a few minutes of browsing through its contents I hummed at what I found.
“Oh, has something interesting happened?” Eugen asked, trying to sneak a look before I closed the report.
“Just something new from intelligence. The Defense Fleet appears to be having more trouble within their ranks, their Fifth Squadron is being disbanded and reallocated. It shouldn’t cause any trouble we are not prepared for.” I said, glancing back out as the storm clouds began to clear up more so and the rain lessened.
“Ha, what idiots. The Defense Fleet is only a shadow of what it used to be, though it is a bit of a shame; I have many fond memories of my time there, but all things end eventually I suppose.” Eugen said, taking one last inhale then placed the nearly done cigarette back in my lips as she slowly blew her smoke in my face, her eyes half lidded as she gazed with lust at me. “I hope to see you later tonight as well, even a month seems like such a short time to savor our times together. Best stock up while we can, yes?”
With a blown kiss, she turned and left to tend to her duties while giving me quite the show with those hips of hers, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the view and be excited knowing what fun awaited me this evening. Such offers from her were guaranteed to make whatever hardships I faced throughout the day be worth it.
I spent the next few minutes finishing the last of my cigarette while gazing out at the harbor again and enjoying the smell the rain had left behind. When I finished, I tossed the bud away, and headed back to work; as I did I thought of the final note of the report that I found quite humorous.
So, they’ve gotten themselves a new commander… how quaint.
Next: Ch. 2: Arrivals and Alliances
A/N - Hello, nice to meet you, hope you enjoyed my first chapter, leave a friendly comment if you did.
I’ve actually been on a writing hiatus for the last few years, not that I couldn’t have made the time, but I write as a hobby. Nothing more and nothing less. So if you are expecting me to reliably dish out a full and completed story here, don’t be (honesty hurts). You want that to change then feel free to pay me. :)
Just wanted to get that out of the way. Now onto the story.
I’ve been a fan of Azur Lane for a few years now. At first I saw it as just another erotic game or something that I could occasionally look up when I feel horny, hell I haven’t even played it at all, not once, ever. But what caught me was the fun spin on history this franchise does with the ships.
Now I know there exists little to no in depth plot aside from what little the game developers come up as dialogue for the ships and that the main attraction everyone has to the game is the erotic shipgirls (which is nothing to be guilty of if you dig that sort of thing).
My story will mostly not be following what little game plot there is, it will mostly be whatever nonsense I come up with, taking place in an alternate WW2 setting between the 1950’s to 1980’s respectably in order to allow for modern-ish technology with ships and aircraft, and will incorporate politics and such, not of the modern era mind you cause that shit is fucked up enough already.
As for the characters (the OC’s I come up with are mine, you can’t have them) and how I write some of the shipgirls, their personalities are mainly how I interpret them to act based on their voice lines on the website as well as a few other factors from their ships history. I may also be incorporating ships that do not yet have a shipgirl design as well as bring up some of the less popular girls into the limelight when I can.
Also, there will be NO descriptive sexual intercourse scenes (smut), I don’t write that stuff so look elsewhere for it. Seriously, they're not hard to find (GrandLeviathan punches a new one out almost weekly). No quirky harems either, though maybe a love triangle or two as well as open relationships.
There will be some scenes where sex will be referenced to have taken place or is about to happen, as well as references to past traumatic sexual experiences. There will be some profanity with language and gritty battle scenes, but not too gory.
And that’s that, let's hope I don’t do an A/N this long again. So if we are all understanding of one another, let’s get this rig rolling again, shall we?
Chapter 2: Ch. 2: Arrivals and Alliances
Chapter Text
Ch. 2: Arrivals and Alliances
1630 hrs - April 6th, 1972
Flight Whisky 22 - Enroute to UNDF Third Squadron - Almada Docks, Portugal
Ford POV
Thump-thump-thump-thump…
The first sound that I heard as I awoke from a rather horrible nap was the sound of the rotors hopping through the air, my new blue and black officer's dress cap falling off from covering my face onto my lap, the sun partially blinding me as it showed through one of the cabin windows of the CH-53 Super Stallion helicopter. How I managed to actually fall asleep with the turbulence and roaring engines, I will never know.
Guess it's easy to sleep after a few days of nothing but reading officers manuals and various reports pertaining to my new job, it was such a huge info dump that I barely remember half of it! I thought, the familiar headache of the last two days rearing itself again, not helped by the aircraft or the fact that my ears were being squeezed beneath an uncomfortable headset which only intensified the aching of my head. Thankfully the small granola bar I had for breakfast was staying down in my stomach where it belonged.
Thank God for whoever invented laxatives.
A tap on my shoulder made me look left to a woman who was signing for the intercom's fourth private channel on our headsets. I had turned mine off so as to not be disturbed from my much needed nap (like I got any real sleep), upon switching over I was greeted by an Australian accent.
"Morning Commander Ford, you doing alright?" she asked.
"Sigh… Peachy." I said, finally wiping my groggy eyes and focusing my sight I looked to the person again who, for the last day or so ended up as a training companion of sorts. Since we both were bound for Third Squadron, we shared the same briefings and in the process had become familiar with each other.
So much that the sight of her sitting with a slightly amused look at my current unruly state wasn't a surprise. Adding to that, unlike myself, she seemed perfectly at ease strapped to her seat, like a kid on a school bus. It was rather annoying how calm she was compared to me.
By my guess she appeared to be in her high thirties with chestnut brown hair tied back tightly in a small bun as is proper for a woman of the service. Her face, though not unpleasant, held no alluring charm or feature save for the freckles on her nose and her chocolate brown eyes. Her uniform was not of the formal wear I wore at the moment, instead it was the standard issue blue duty uniform that had been adopted by the Defense Fleet a few years ago. In gold coloring stood the proud insignia of a UNDF Warrant Officer and her own last name: Baker, her full name being Liliana Baker.
During our introduction and followed by us studying together, we learned a little of each other's careers leading up to now. She had been a former aviation weapons chief in the Royal Navy's Pacific Fleet with around fifteen years of experience, but she decided to volunteer for the Defense Fleet after tensions with the Ironblood started getting more heated and she didn't want to get wrapped into it.
From the conversations I've had with her so far, she struck me as one who didn't shy away from a challenge and preferred function over formality. It was a good mindset that I was glad she had, the last thing I or any other officer needed was a procrastinator to work with.
I glanced down to check my uniform, still not used to the change. The new uniforms I received back in Dublin fit well enough considering it was actually a previously used uniform, but thankfully the tailor only had to make a few adjustments for it to fit. A freshly made new uniform was far too expensive and sadly the Defense Fleets budget did not cover uniform expenses.
But I quite liked how this hand-me-down turned out actually, the blue was dark and it contrasted well with the new gold ranks on my shoulders and wrists. I was also thankful the Defense Fleet acknowledged service awards from other navies, meaning my left breast area was not lacking in ribbons. Satisfied that I was still presentable, I looked back to Baker who was waiting for me with a bit of a smirk.
"What?" I asked.
"Oh nothing sir, just wondering if you were gonna ask for a mirror or something." She joked, earning nothing but an eye roll from me.
"Ha ha." I flatly replied, pushing back a craving for a cigar while rubbing the back of my strained neck. "How long was I out?"
"Must have been just shy of a few hours, couldn't do it myself with all that rocking. You seemed okay though, are you used to this kind of travel?"
"No… Well, sort of. It's more from being tired of all those briefings piled on us." I said, getting her nod in agreement. "Are we there yet?"
"Naw, but we should be there soon. I was going to wake you sooner but you looked oh so peaceful sleeping." she jokingly replied.
"Thanks, I guess." I said as I stretched, my neck tendons cracking, making me sigh in relief.
Before either Baker or I could say anything further the main intercom cracked on.
"Good afternoon passengers, this your trusted pilot speaking, here to inform you we are now fifteen mikes out from our destination. Local time is 1632 hours, weather is mild with a nice summer breeze and partially clear skies. We will give you all one last warning before making our final approach, and apologies in advance for the turbulence. If you decide to empty yourself, I ask that you please do it in the appropriate paper bags and not on my aircraft. Thank you, Pelican out." When the voice finished, I had a knowing grin on my face after realizing the comedic voice that spoke was strikingly familiar.
That American midwestern accent, the corny passenger plane lingo, and that nickname… No freaking way! I thought, my mood suddenly getting better just knowing that they let that mad man stay in the service.
Baker must have seen my smile and nudged for my attention. Looking over I saw her mouth the word 'Pelican' in confusion. Her reaction only added to my brightening mood and I just gave her a knowing smirk with a shrug.
Before she could ask anymore, I managed to flag down one of the aircrew as they passed and asked them to tell the pilot I requested the use of the General's viewing area, knowing that crazy bastard would know what I was talking about.
The crewman, a young looking enlisted, was confused at first but said she would check with the pilot since it was his bird, which meant his word was law. While I waited, Baker tapped me again for my attention.
"What's this about a General's viewing area?" she asked.
I just gave her a knowing smile, then pointed to the Stallions side doors that presented a larger open view of the outside and just so happened to have a folded seat attached to the wall right next to it. It was an uncommon feature on most Stallions, but it did offer a gunner position on the sides which was considered essential for combat infiltration and exfiltration.
Baker's face lit up in surprise but was quickly drowned by doubt. "There has to be at least a dozen regulations against that." I nodded at her correct assumption while still wearing a small smile.
"We'll see." I said, much to her bewilderment, then the intercom clicked on again.
"Would the gentleman who requested the VIP premium-members viewing area for a private showing please switch to channel 1B on the intercom systems?"
Giving Baker one last wink of amusement, I switched over and figured he wouldn't recognize my voice at first if I kept it short. "Go ahead."
"Now, no offense intended sir, but that there is a seat intended for either fully trained gunners, flag officers, or personal sweethearts on those very special occasions. So unless you're a trained gunner, or happen to have some stars on your shoulders, you mind telling me why I should break protocol?"
Same old Mike. I thought.
"Oh I don't know Mikey, I figured you do an old friend from the Cape Cod fiasco a favor." I said, by this point I figured Baker and maybe a few others had switched over to our channel to peap in on the conversation, but I doubted they would understand any of the names or references we were talking about. After an awkward full minute of waiting, he finally replied.
"... Well, there is only one asshole dumb enough to use my first name like that and bring that shit-show up aboard my own bird! That you Foxy?" A laugh escaped me when my own nickname was used, I had forgotten how much I hated and missed it.
"The one and only."
"Well HOT damn! (his shout causing the passengers who were listening to flinch at his high volume) Had I known you would be on my bird this flight, I would have made the ride more bumpy!" We both laughed at that one, though a few of the others gripped their harnesses tighter, afraid that Mikey might start being lazy in his piloting on my account.
"By chance, you wouldn't happen to be one of the squadron's new CIC officers would you? Heard we were getting some new ones pretty soon."
"Something like that, I'm actually their new XO. They said it was a mess over here, so here I am." I replied, the other passengers seemed to give me odd looks at that omission. Considering I was going to be their new boss, I wondered if my image was already tainted by this conversation, or the fact I fell asleep somehow, not that I cared one way or the other.
"Fuckin A. About time we got someone who knows his shit out here." That got a raised brow from Baker, but I just shook my head and waved the comment off to discourage her from worrying about it.
"I appreciate the confidence, but I gotta say I'm surprised they still kept you around after that stunt you pulled in Cuba." This was gonna get his blood boiling.
"Hey! That blonde came onto me! How the hell was I supposed to know that she was an admiral's grand-daughter!" A snicker made me glance back over to see Baker trying her best not to laugh at the conversation and give away the fact she and the others were listening in.
Mike Williamson had that effect on people, no matter the situation you can always count on him to come up with a snarky comment or a funny story to lighten the mood, and possibly piss off the wrong people at the same time.
God I missed this guy.
"If you say so, bud. So, any chance I can qualify for that premium membership before we land? I'd like a birds eye view of what I'll be working with." I asked.
"Well, as it just so happens, we are arriving on the early side so I might be able to fit in one little touring circle, but you owe me chow later for it."
Good old Mike, never disappoints. "Deal."
"And I'm not talking about that miserable shit they feed us in the mess hall, I'm talking real food. There's this one place in town, serves the best smoked fish this side of the Atlantic, and it. Ain't. Cheap."
"As long as the view's good enough, Mikey." I said, I would still treat him to something if it wasn't the best, but I wanted to encourage him a little.
"Jeese, talk about a high bargain. Alrighty, I'll send back one of my guys to hook you in."
"Thanks Mikey." I said.
"And stop calling me that, Foxy." he quickly rebutted.
Despite how annoying he may be sometimes, I knew the man well and he knew me the same. Somehow we worked well together and I was relieved to have him with me for all of this. Baker once again got my attention and I switched to her channel.
"Foxy?" was the first thing she said, causing me to roll my eyes.
"A story for another time and place." I said, hinting that it was a discussion that was best told privately and preferably with alcohol.
"Fine. But you've gotta introduce me to this guy, he seems like a riot to have around." Suddenly I felt a cold chill run through me picturing the two of them hanging out together. I didn't know why but I got the impression that introducing the two of them would unleash all manner of… complicated situations, so I promised myself if I did introduce her to Mikey, I would make myself scarce afterwards.
A few seconds later, the same crewman from before came back. I tucked my uniform cap away and removed my headset. The noise from the rotors increased by ten but I paid no mind to it.
After unbuckling, the crewman helped me up and over to the side seat. After placing a new pair of headsets on I gave a thumbs up and nodded thanks to the crewman, sarcastically waved over to Baker who humorously flipped me off, then gazed out the window.
It was a beautiful day outside as Mikey had said on the intercom. Through the open window was the rocky shore of Portugal that zigged zagged as many coastlines tend to do, and ahead becoming more apparent by the second laid the coastal capital city of Portugal: Lisbon.
Like a majority of the older cities in Europe, there were very few modern tall buildings to take away from the historical value of the city. Red tiled roofed houses covered a majority of the area and hillsides, along with a number of church towers poking up out of the sea of roofs. Then, more on the outskirts of the city and around the harbor's mouth, I began to see the influence of the war that had forced its way on the beautiful city.
Coastal defense guns ranging from heavy artillery to anti-air batteries were placed all over the city's waterfront, with a majority resting on the Tagus River mouth and the two points on either side of the bay. They were rather ugly things in comparison to the very city they were built to protect and would sadly remain that way for a long time, at least until global hostilities finally cooled down.
But I doubt that will happen anytime soon either. I thought miserably, remembering my conversation with Admiral Puttnam a few days ago and how he talked of the rising tensions in the region.
"How's the view Foxy?" Mike asked on the comm.
"Considering your flying, not too bad Mikey." I joked.
"Ha ha. Well the main attraction is about to start, we're coming up on Tagus Bay. The squadron is moored in the southern half, just off the Almada docks. I can give you one fly over, but after that I'll have to listen to the damn flight control officer that'll be shouting in my ear to land. So take in what you can."
"Will do, and thanks again Mike." After I cut the feed, I watched as we slowed and banked left into the bay, flying over the cities defense guns and red rooftops; I even spotted a few locals waving as we went, but then came the true view I was looking for. Moored in the harbor's southern end rested the ten ships that made up Third Squadron, the three most prominent were the big hulls of the fleet.
There was the UNS Matterhorn, a Union built Austin-class landing platform dock which served as a mobile base of operations at sea. At its rear it had a landing deck that could fit three Super Stallions on it at once and below that resided its water docking bay were small transport boats and kansen could enter and exit for offloading and resupply. The only armaments the ship offered was a single dual barreled five-inch gun turret forward of its bridge on the bow and a pair of anti-air phalanx CIWS, one above the bridge, the other above the flight deck's hanger doors.
Parked right next to the Matterhorn was what I had to guess was the squadron's sole manned frigate, the UNS Danube. She was a Garcia-class Union frigate whose role was as a secondary command ship and also for combat support. She had two five inch gun mounts in two turrets for dual purpose roles, but her main feature was her modern eight tubed missile launcher along with her advanced sonar and radar systems which allowed her to be a more active participant in modern sea battles.
The next big hull was the squadron's sole battleship, the USS Pennsylvania.
She was an older dreadnought type design the Union was famous for prior to modernizing to fast battleships. Armed with twelve fourteen-inch guns loaded in four triple-barreled turrets (two forward and two aft) and eight dual purpose turrets on her superstructure, she was without a doubt a fearsome warship even compared to her more modern counterparts.
Like all the other kansen's of Third Squadron, I had only grazed over her personal file before needing to move on to the others. From what I remember, the kansen was known for being a bit of a hot-head with quite a few demerits for disorderly conduct, though they were overshadowed by her numerous battle commendations.
She's probably going to be the key to my effectiveness here. If I'm going to be leading these ships, I'll need to prove myself to her first, hopefully the rest will follow. I thought, remembering how I won over my last crew on the Barry by participating in a boxing match with their senior enlisted; I lost the match, but won their respect, which was even better.
The last one of the three big hulls was their only aircraft carrier, the HMS Chaser, though calling her a big hull might have been overselling her.
She was interesting on several points. Point one: she was actually Union built, but was transferred to the Royal Navy to help strengthen their carrier force. Not that she offered much in that department because point two: she was an escort carrier; smaller in both size and aircraft complement when compared to fleet carriers, they were designed to launch mainly interceptor fighters to guard their fleets against air attacks. Chaser's file was rather small too, due to the fact that she was built not long before the war ended and only participated in a few engagements.
But I guess something is better than nothing. I thought while secretly wishing that Chaser's hull was larger.
The Stallion was about half way through its circle when I spotted the other ships. From the sizes alone, I made out two cruisers and three destroyers. One of the cruisers I immediately identified from the squadron's roster as the USS Atlanta, only because there weren't many ships out there with eight twin-barreled five-inch caliber turrets planted all over her hull; the ship screamed anti-air like it was going out of style.
If that's Atlanta, the other one must be Kirov. I thought, looking the other cruiser over.
She had a fairly average armament of three triple barreled turrets (two forward and one aft), along with various secondary and anti-air guns, her superstructure was a unique pagoda type mast that you normally saw on Sakura ships.
If I remember right, Kirov was the only ship from the Northern Parliament still volunteering in the Defense Fleet. But her file was almost completely lacking in any service details, let alone anything of her personality. Either they never got around to updating it, or they thought it best not to for some reason.
On to the destroyers, all three were moored alongside each other. First there was the USS Eldridge, then HMS Eskimo, and lastly was KMS Z-23. There wasn't much about the first two in their files other than Eldridge having a recurring electrical issue and Eskimo being a bit of a prankster.
It was Z-23's file that I found interesting. She had quite a history in the war and had a reputation as a successful convoy escort, but like Kirov her personal file was bare of any useful details other than that she was a diligent worker.
All in all it was a rather interesting line up of ships. But something told me that was only going to make my job all the more complicated, and that's not even taking into account any of the naval officers I'll be working with.
Aside from Captain Augustus, who seemed to be a reliable officer at least, the rest were probably going to be a patchwork of people who hailed from a variety of countries across the world and from what I have read about such crews they were more often subject to scrutiny for poor effectiveness.
That's what you get when you have an all volunteer global service force in peacetime. Not to mention the complicated issue of working alongside kansens in the first place. I thought as the Stallion completed its circle.
Kansen… The word was an eastern term used by the Sakura Empire to describe the very same beings that won us the war. The word roughly translated to 'warship', so technically it could have been used to describe any naval ship, but after the forming of the world's first international alliance, the Azur Lane Initiative, the term caught on and even the media began using it as well.
Since no one had an alternative other than 'shipgirls' (which was a ridiculous name), it was generally accepted that the powerful girls would hence be called Kansens. Yet naming them took nothing away from their lack of explanation or origin.
They were as powerful as they were mysterious, and like most people I didn't know their full story or history; all that I knew of them was that they were strange beings, but also incredibly amazing at the same time.
To put into simpler words, as hard to believe as it was, they were the personification of warships made into physical form; or more specifically an often beautiful and… exotic female form.
They came in almost every size, color, and personality you could imagine and hailed from naval powers all across the world, almost always coming into being from a ship hailing from the early half of the twentieth century or older. Yet they did adhere to a type of class structure like that of ordinary naval ship classifications.
Destroyers and submarines were the smallest and weakest in the naval community (from a size and length standpoint at least), as such their kansen personifications often embodied that trend with most of the destroyers taking the form of young girls (children in some cases), with mental attitudes often matching their apparent ages too. They did not physically age the same as normal humans, but their minds did mature to some extent, it was a mind boggling occurrence.
Cruiser kansen's were more often, as to be expected, more mature in both body and mind with their attitudes often matching that of teenagers though there were some who tended to be either more or less mature than the others.
Battleships and aircraft carriers, being the largest and most powerful class of naval ships, thus more often presented the more mature looking kansens with some having such beauty that they are often compared to angels or even goddesses. But there was far more to these beings than just their looks and origin.
Their true power was their ability to fully control every single action of their vessel, be it using the radio or sonar, launching torpedoes or aircraft, to even aiming and firing their large main battery guns.
Tasks that would take at least a dozen or more men to complete, they could do it with just a thought and wave of their hands. It was a massive leap in efficiency and effectiveness when it came to naval tactics and ship to ship combat, but that still wasn't all.
On top of controlling their own ships, they had the ability to create a strange armament that visually looked to mirror aspects of their hulls design and weaponry. These were called riggings and they granted the kansen's personified form to physically enter the battle beyond the capabilities of their original hulls by somehow allowing them to float and ski on the water's surface.
It was truly a power directly out of science fiction and I had only ever seen such beings in form and action from a distance.
And now here I am about to be thrown head first into the fire. Wonderful. I thought sarcastically as the intercom clicked on again.
"Attention, we're making our final approach for landing. Make sure all loose items are secured and mind the bump." Spoke a different voice that had to be Mike's co-pilot.
As the Stallion maneuvered in for landing on the Matterhorn, I suddenly realized I missed something after counting up the ships.
Wasn't there supposed to be a submarine here too? I thought as my eyes began looking for the familiar shape of a sub, but then I spotted a figure standing on one of the turrets of the only battleship in port. Even from up here I could make out it was a woman, her navy blue uniform and flowing brown hair looked radiant in the sun as she stood with her arms folded and watching the Stallion as it lowered.
Pennsylvania? I thought, another icy feeling crawling down my spine at seeing her and I got the impression I was about to receive a very cold welcome.
"Commander Ford?" a voice called out and I looked to see a young officer looking through the crowd and waving to me, the sight causing me to sigh in annoyance.
After the Stallion landed, all the passengers began disembarking and started sorting their luggage. After finding my own and bringing it inside the ship's hanger I ended up standing next to Baker, since I didn't know where else to go. I was actually hoping to meet up with Mikey and have a proper friendly reunion. However the young lieutenant coming over to me apparently had other plans for me.
"Pardon me sir, Captain Augustus is requesting you meet her in her office, I'm to show you the way." he said.
I glanced down at my duffle bag then to my pegleg, and wondered if I would need to carry it all through the ship. I was confident I could manage a narrow flight of stares or two with it and my leg, but doing so would ruffle my uniform.
Why hadn't I just worn my new duty uniform instead? I thought miserably until Baker nudged me for my attention.
"I can watch your stuff for you sir. Since I'm going to be working here in the hangar, I'm going to stick around for a few hours and see how many messes I'll be cleaning up." she said.
"Thanks Baker, I'll come back for it as soon as I can." I said, then nodded to the lieutenant and off we went. Going through the ship was an uneventful trip, my leg didn't bother me as much as I feared it would, but I was thankful I had left my cane in my bag in order to get used to walking without it.
A few younger sailors passing by noticed my rank and respectfully stepped aside and allowed me through, then hurried off quicker than they had arrived. No doubt word of my arrival would spread throughout the ship and the rest of the fleet by the end of the night.
Scuttlebutt was the plague of every navy. I thought, my nose briefly catching the smell of the mess not too far ahead, but to my stomach's dismay, we turned and went up two levels on the stairs.
A few minutes later, we were in front of an open hatch door with the golden plate identifying our destination.
CAPTAIN ADINA AUGUSTUS - THIRD SQD CO.
The lieutenant knocked on the door and a woman's voice answered back.
"Come." the lieutenant poked his head in.
"Pardon me ma'am, I have Commander Ford here as you requested," he said and I can only assume she nodded at him to let me in.
Upon entering, I realized I was in her private quarters that also functioned as an office space. The room was quite cramped when compared to what most higher officers received on land but this was a ship and there was only so much room to work with onboard.
Her bunk was tightly made with a dresser next to it and her desk jutted out as a sort of island between the door and the rest of the living space with a few chairs positioned on the opposite side of the door for visitors like myself.
"Buona sera, commander." spoke the captain as she stood and I got my first look at who was now my new commanding officer as well as the overall commander of Third Squadron.
Captain Adina Augustus was a middle-aged caucasian woman standing at about five foot eight with her dirty blonde hair tied back in a firm and smooth tail, her eyes were dark green and her face seemed hard with tight cheek bones and a small scar on her lip. She wore the same blue duty uniform as the other sailors aboard that offered no hints as to her service history or skills, simply her name and rank.
I really should have skipped the dress blues! I screamed internally, feeling overdressed once again but putting my embarrassment aside.
I had read up a little on the captain and her career leading up to her posting here. She had originally been a part of the Sardegna Imperial Navy but had joined the Defense Fleet in 1967 after a large majority of the Sardegnian experienced naval officers had been wiped out in the burning of Naples and most of what was left was absorbed into the Azur Lane Initiative.
The fact that she chose to take on the fight when so many others had fallen spoke a lot about her personal tenacity in the face of overwhelming odds. It made sense why Admiral Puttnam had so much faith in the woman.
Remembering myself, I stood to attention and presented a proper salute. "Good evening ma'am. Commander Ryan Ford reporting."
She returned the gesture and had me shut the hatch for privacy then gestured for me to take a seat across from her as we began the business of introductions.
"I greatly appreciate your presence here commander, though I wish the circumstances were better." She said as she sat down. "I've received your personal file a day ago and I must say I am impressed to have one of your experiences here as my executive officer. I know the admiral informed you somewhat of what our situation is but I'm sure you must have some questions as to what your role here will be in the coming months."
From there we went through various items and jobs I am expected to accomplish. Thankfully, having been an executive officer before, I knew most of the ropes but there were a few things that were going to be new to me.
Such as being placed in direct command of the kansen ships; while she would be responsible for directing orders and coordinating ship movements, I would be responsible for ensuring her orders were not misunderstood and carried out effectively.
On top of that, outside of combat situations, I would be responsible for addressing any issues or concerns the kansen may have regarding anything from assignments to whatever personal issues they may have against each other or other sailors.
While I did voice my concerns over not having much experience with kansen's in the first place, the captain simply smiled and shrugged.
"The last few commanders who I had dismissed were familiar enough with kansen's, yet they still failed. I am hoping your lack of experience might be a good thing in this case. But I will warn you that you need to be careful with how to speak and act around them. Some have had… unfortunate experiences with commanding officers in the past, thus a lot of them are untrusting by nature, you will have to be patient with them." she said.
"Is there one amongst them I should be especially careful with?" I asked, to which Augustus sighed again and leaned back in her seat.
"Have you read any of their files?" she asked.
"Yes, though not thoroughly."
"Then tell me what your impression is of them so far."
Again I tried to remember the details without mixing any of them up. "I'd say they're a bit of a patch work when it comes to their variety of nationality. In fact I'm pretty sure we are the only squadron with Ironblood and Northern Parliament in the ranks. Is there any hostility between any of them?"
"Not too much, but I haven't been able to talk with them lately due to how hectic it's been with the depending of Fifth Squadron. Speaking of which, we should be receiving the leftovers from them in a few weeks, so don't worry about organizing the kansen's too much until we get our reinforcements. As for the kansen we have now…" she sighed again and eyeballed her desk door for some reason.
"The two you need to be the most careful with are Penny and Parzi-cazzo-I mean Pennsylvania and U556. They've become quite attached to each other these last few years and the last commander who made the mistake of getting in between them, well let's just say I doubt he can still walk in a straight line."
A morbid warning but one that had got the point across. Before I could acknowledge her advice, a knock on the door interrupted our conversation.
"Come." the captain spoke, and the door opened to reveal the same lieutenant from before.
"Pardon me again ma'am, they're ready for you in the conference room." he said.
"Very good, grazie Findley." she said and the officer was gone as quick as he arrived.
Looking back at her, Augustus took in a breath and then got up, I followed with the feeling that we were both leaving.
"The squadron has been brought in for you to meet. I hope you're ready." she said as she walked around her desk and through the door with me following.
"Is anyone ever ready when it comes to kansen's?" I replied, partially as a joke but also somewhat serious. The captain just smiled back and then continued on down the hall with me behind her, listening as she talked.
"No, at least not for their first meeting with them. The best advice I could give you is not to overthink it. They may be powerful but you'll find they act more human than you'd expect, and not all of them will reply or act in a military fashion as you may be used to. As I said before, just be patient with them and no matter what, always give them the same respect you would any other person." she stopped when we came to the stair ladder and turned to me with a serious look.
"One last thing, I know I am asking a lot of you commander, but I want to make one thing clear." she stood firm with arms folded and I immediately went to attention since it felt it was the appropriate response to her stance.
"I've dealt with a lot of new XO's as of late, and with each one I expected their failure at one point or another, because I knew where they came from and how they got here through whatever personal connections they had in the UNDF. You are the first who seems to be actually serious about the job, so I am hoping you will be different, but if you are not I promise you that I will personally throw you overboard in the middle of the Atlantic. Clear?"
"Crystal clear ma'am." I immediately replied.
"You wanted in, now you're in all the way." my subconscious teased me while the rest of my mind was wondering how the hell I had gotten myself into this.
This is… not what I was expecting. I thought after following Captain Augustus into a small briefing room.
Sitting around the long oval table were eight individuals that could only have been kansen's with how… colorful they looked and acted. Each turned in their seats to see my arrival, allowing me to see each of my new wards."
"Signoras, allow me to introduce our squadron's new executive officer, Commander Ryan Ford." Captain Augustus said, each girl was giving me mostly different looks but none seemed happy about me being here. "If you all would please introduce yourselves, we can then get to business."
"Chm, chm." cleared the girl who was sitting towards the head of the table where a projector was laid, she stood up then curtseyed as she spoke in a fluent British accent. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Commander Ford, my name is Chaser, I'm an Royal Navy Attacker-class escort aircraft carrier and act as the second in command among our little group. I look forward to working with you."
Chaser looked to be in her late teens, but her posture and tone of voice hinted at a more mature attitude. She sat straight and gracefully with a small cup of tea in her hands and a pot not far from her. She wore a prim looking dress of red and white with a small red shoulder cape and a cute white bow in her hair which flowed down her back in large curls, her eyes were a mesmerizing blue that were hard to look away from.
All in all she was the definition of a fine English woman, though upon further inspection her dress was actually armless and a hint of her under-chest poked out at her sides, it added an alluring flare to a mostly innocent looking person.
"Um…" started the girl who sat next to Chaser. "Hello sir, my name is Atlanta. I'm an anti-aircraft cruiser from the Union."
At first glance, Atlanta seemed rather awkward, but I could see she wasn't nervous of me (at least visually she wasn't). Like Chaser, her eyes were a beautiful blue, but she was younger looking and had a cute head of pink hair with a braid across the top. Her dress was a blue skirt and white collared top with red shoulder-less sleeves and a red tie. Her arms were covered with silk compression sleeves ending with red fingerless gloves.
I nodded to both the girls in greetings, then turned to the next one down, but I had to blink a few times.
A… child?
Sitting quietly with her head barely rising over the table top with a set of headphones over her ears was an extremely young looking girl with long blond hair in two twin tails that was almost as long as she was in height. Her orange red eyes were rather blank as they stared down at the table with her body rocking along to some song she was listening to. Her dress was more along the lines of a swimsuit with how tight it seemed to be, and her arms were also covered by baggy sleeves and she was tapping away in the air with strange looking L shaped sticks in her hands.
After a few short seconds of looking at the girl, Atlanta coughed for my attention. "Sorry sir, this is Eldridge. She's a Cannon-class destroyer from the Union, like me she's more of an anti-air escort ship. Hey, go on Eldridge, say hello at least."
After getting the little girl's attention, she looked around until Atlanta pointed to me. Finally getting the girls full attention, she looked me up and down, then asked the oddest question I'd heard all day.
"New commander… do you have… any snacks?" the whole room paused at the utter randomness of the question. I glanced back at the captain who simply shrugged back at me, seemingly with no excuse for the girl.
After a few more seconds, I fished into my coat pocket and pulled out a pack of gum I kept handy. Taking one out, I walked to the table and offered it to her and, even more strangely, upon seeing it a few sparks began sprouting out of her fuzzy attachments on her hair clips. She reached out and grabbed hold, then a small spark of electricity arced out from her hand and up my arm.
The shock wasn't really painful enough to warrant a reaction so I just released the gum for her to have. After taking it, she stared up at me then to the gum and back, seemingly a little confused on something.
"... Thank you…" she finally said, putting her headphones back on and opening the wrapping of the minty snack, after which the room returned to an awkward silence.
Glancing around at the other girls, a few looked at me with a little less coldness than before, Chaser even had a more natural smile on her face. Before I could ask what was wrong, a giggle from next to Eldridge took my attention to the next girl.
"He-he-he, well now that that's done and over with, I'm next!" spoke the jumpy girl, her accent was more Scottish in tone.
She looked overly dressed in a white fur-lined red hooded short cape with a matching red frilly dress. Her arms and legs were covered in silk black stockings and her hair was a bob cut with the front half having a white stripe right down from her scalp to her forehead like a skunk, a pair of rounded glasses completed her look.
I felt like I was looking at a fashion store mannequin but her bubbly attitude broke that illusion, as she hopped up and down in her seat excitedly, her hood flapping on and off her head.
"I'm Eskimo! A Tribal-class gun-boat destroyer from Canada! So you're our new commander eh, where are you from?! Did you make igloos there?! Did you fight in the war? Why do you have a fake leg?! Do you have any more gum that I could hav-" smack "OW!" Eskimo's ramblings were silenced by a hand strike to her head from the other girl next to her.
"Halt den mund!" the new girl shouted in German and proceeded to berate Eskimo in a thick German accent. "You should not be asking so much at one time! And why do you always ask if they make igloos?! Most people don't need to make an igloo to live in!"
"But igloos are so cute! You can make them as big or small as you want!" Eskimo whined with watery eyes and the two went back and forth, arguing things left and right, but everyone looked on as if it was a common occurrence.
The new girl was another young one who seemed a little older than Eskimo, but still shorter than Atlanta. She wore a cute looking white and dark blue twin buttoned dress with some black short shorts. Her arms also adorning silky compression sleeves with white gloves on her hands and an arm band above her left elbow. Her short hair was a glossy light brown and was adorned by a dark blue beret and a bow decorated with the symbol of the Ironblood.
So this must be Z23?
Before I or anyone else did anything to stop the little dispute, laughter from the second to last chair down the table drew my eyes to the next woman, and a striking woman she was. Arising from her seat, she walked over to stand between the two little ones who went silent after they felt her hands on their heads.
"Now, now. Why don't you two save such drakach for a more proper time and place, da?" her voice, though heavy with a Russian accent, was surprisingly soft along with her eyes as she looked at the girls who both pouted at being interrupted but said nothing against their elders' words, simply muttering what I guessed were their agreements.
The woman looked to be in her twenties with her skin being a fine shine of smooth white like snow and her long white hair seemed to fall down her back like a frozen stream down a cliff face. Her outfit looked to be ready for a winter storm with her coat looking to be made of a thick fabric and the end of her sleeves opened out wider at their hands. Her legs were adorned by dark stockings and dark blue skirt, with white calf high boots that were lined with gray fur.
Despite her uniform's thick fabric, it did nothing to take away from her well endowed form, with her chest's top half being bare and offering quite the view. And completing her look was a unique hat that she wore, I believed was called an ushanka, or something like that. All of her clothing and accent hinted heavily towards her being from the Northern Parliament.
She nodded in satisfaction as the two girls relented their arguing, then the mature woman brought her eyes to me. Looking into their dark golden irises, I felt like a rabbit after being caught by the gaze of an arctic predator. Though her small smile remained, it was by no means genuine, yet I didn't catch any hostility from her either.
"Privetstviya, commander. My name is Kirov, a cruiser from the Northern Parliament. Please excuse Z23's actions." she glanced down at the beret girl, "She means well but can have difficulty being subtle in her actions."
I greeted both in return and finally turned to the last two girls seated together at the end of the table, with the smaller of the two sitting across the other's lap and leaning against her like a child would their mother.
Strangely enough, the smaller girl wore the least amount of clothing of all the girls present, with the majority of her skin being on full display. The largest article of clothing she had was an open oversized brown overcoat, the remainder was simply a pair of grey bikini top and bottoms, both of which only barely seemed to cover the essentials. Her hair was lightly colored blue with pink highlights at the end of her bangs and two pigtails.
Even if she's on the younger side, her outfit is just shy of being called skimpy. I thought, a sliver of parental instincts telling me to find her something better to wear, but the clearing of a throat brought my attention to the older woman currently holding the little girl, who also happened to be giving me a glare after looking at the girl too closely.
"Sorry, but she is extremely underdressed." I pointed out to her, she sighed and nodded in agreement, but she kept her gaze cautious of me while also pulling the girls coat to cover her better.
The woman looked to be the oldest here, or at the very least the most matured in appearance. She wore a well fitting dark blue uniform with her sleeves rolled up showing her bare forearms with a short skirt that opened to allow for better mobility and dark silk stocking covered legs. The front of her shirt was unbuttoned partially showing her black sports bra underneath as well as some of her bare stomach, her dark brown hair was combed to the left of her face and flowed down her shoulder with a small blue cap resting on her head.
But what I found most eye-catching about her were the noticeable scars she bore, the most obvious being one across her cheek right below her left eye. They gave her a look of someone who had survived one too many battlefields in her time, her aqua eyes solidified that as they gazed at me with cold judgment, and the same feeling of dread I got when the stallion landed returned.
She was definitely the one I saw from before. I thought, realizing I was looking at the flagship of Third Squadron.
"I'm Pennsylvania." she said, then looked down at the girl on her chest. "And this is U556."
In the woman's arms, the little girl she held stirred at her name being called and after waking up she glanced at me, her crimson eyes looking tired as they looked me up and down, but she quickly lost interest and returned to leaning against the battleship to sleep.
Pennsylvania didn't seem to mind and simply let her rest while stroking U556's head as she drifted back to sleep. Without thinking, I checked my watch and saw that it was nearing 1900 hrs, not too late in the day but looking closer at the girl's face I saw the bags under her eyes and how tired she really looked.
"If ah…" I said, gaining back the battleship's attention, "Chm, if you want to take her to rest somewhere else, we can talk again later."
Pennsylvania's look remained sharp but lost some of its coldness after hearing my words, if only a little. She looked over to Captain Augustus who nodded in agreement, then after a moment she rose up from her seat, her arms adjusting to better hold the girl in her arms, and she bid good night to everyone as she left the room.
After Pennsylvania left, I looked back over the unique ensemble of kansen's before me and cleared my throat. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you, as Captain Augustus said, I'm Commander Ryan Ford, formerly of the Union Navy, and I'll be working with all of you for the foreseeable future."
From there, we all entered into discussion with me telling them a little of my own experiences in the war as well as my overall lack of any history of working with kansens. They talked with me of some of their own stories and experiences that I found both interesting and quite entertaining.
Chaser was a huge fan of tea and the large variety they came in, contrasting with Kirov who enjoyed coffee to the same degree, the two apparently forming a rivalry and often butted heads on the subject of which was the better drink.
Atlanta and Eldridge, both being mainly anti-air ships and both hailing from the Union, tended to hang around each other and were a good team in a battle.
Eskimo apologized for all the quick questions… and then proceeded to ask some more, much to Z23's ire. And as for the Ironblood destroyer, she was actually designated as the leader of the three destroyers within Third Squadron; a responsibility she took very seriously, much to the annoyance of her fellows.
By night's end, I had learned that Third Squadron had a long history of being the fleet with the most variety among its kansens and was most famous for its role in spearheading the breakthrough of the straits of Gibraltar in the campaign to retake the Mediterranean Sea in late 1968.
After the girls had been excused for the night, it was only Captain Augustus and myself left in the room.
"Well, I think that went well as far as introductions go. You handled yourself well, especially with all of Eskimo's questions. But you definitely won a lot of ground with them tonight." she said, a cup of Chasers leftover tea in her hands.
"I wouldn't say that ma'am, it was only polite small talk, I think I still have a ways to go." I replied, bringing my own cup of tea to my lips. It was good stuff, but I felt Admiral Puttnams was better.
"Not as far as you think, that little interaction with Eldridge at the start set a lot of their fears aside."
"All I did was give her a piece of gum, and she seemed to shock me in return. I don't see how that bought me anything with them?" It really was just a piece of gum, but the captain simply sighed at me.
"Eldridge has a habit of shocking almost everybody she meets, but it tends to be worse if she senses you as someone of… poor quality. The fact that it was only a small shock that barely made you flinch showed everyone you are at the very least alright in Eldridge's eyes and that speaks volumes for them."
"Your saying after only getting a mild shock, they now suddenly trust me?" I asked, doubt screaming out of my sarcastic tone with the captain smirking at the humor.
"Trusted, no. That is something that can only be developed over time. But you see, Eldridge can tell these sorts of things because she's also had a long history of commanders she's served under, some were good while others were horribly terrible. She knows what ques to look for, I won't say how she seems to know the difference based on a simple shock, but she hasn't been wrong so far." The captain rose from her seat after finishing her drink and began washing the cup out in the sink.
"What about Pennsylvania and U556?" I asked.
I was curious about them having only exchanged a single greeting with the former, and the latter having barely spared me a glance. After washing her cup, Augustus turned around showing me a kind yet sad smile.
"Pennsylvania is their flagship, she's not the best at conversation but she is a brilliant fighter and the girls respect her courage in protecting them both on and off the battlefield. As for U556…" the captain's smile disappeared, replaced by a mournful sigh. "Ever since her arrival here, she's barely spoken to anyone outside of the kansens, she seems to have formed a close bond with Pennsylvania and she is comfortable around the others, but as for the rest of Third Squadrons human personnel, she prefers to give them a wide berth."
I wonder what the story behind that is. I thought as I remembered how sleep deprived she looked.
I'd heard many war veterans prefer to seclude themselves after coming back home, haunted by whatever sights or actions traumatized them. It wasn't hard to believe that kansens, beings that mimicked humans in almost every shape and action, would also become haunted by their own trauma.
"I suppose gaining her trust is something that will be the hardest challenge here. But I am curious about something. On my flight in, we did an overlooking circle of the bay, and I wasn't able to spot any subs moored anywhere. Does she not have a hull?" I asked, to which the captain shrugged.
"Like I said, she's a shy one, she prefers to remain submerged under the bay. I've tried to find ways to get her to stop, but it's easier if you just accept it's going to happen. At the very least, if you need to get her attention, she almost always comes up for Pennsylvania." a beeper went off in the captain's pocket and she brought out a pager, her look soured after looking at the text on it and I heard her mutter a something in Italian that I guessed was a swear of some kind.
"Problem ma'am?" I asked.
"Just a recurring reminder of an upcoming event I am not looking forward to, nor will you once I tell you of it." she said, putting the pager away. "But that can wait for now, I know you've already had a long day, so go get situated in your new quarters then get some food and rest for tomorrow. We'll meet up back here with the other senior officers and enlisted at 0700. I'll get you started on your new responsibilities then."
"Yes ma'am." I replied, and got up to go find my bag from Baker, who I hoped was still on the flight deck, or at least easy to find.
A small dinner sounds good too. I thought with a small grumble of my stomach, as I was about to open the door when the captain called me again.
"Oh and commander." I turned to see her smirk had returned to her face. "I recommend the regular duty uniform for tomorrow. Keep the dress in the closet."
God damn dress blues! I screamed internally, but simply sighed at the jokingly given advice.
"Gladly ma'am"
2040 hrs - April 6th, 1972
Imperial Kriegsmarine Academy - Officers Club - Hamburg, Germany
Reuenthal POV
Clink, clink, clink. The sound of metal tapping on glass rang throughout the room.
"Gentleman, a toast if you'd please." said a man raising his glass of wine. All present within the hall turned their attention to him and gripped their own glasses in anticipation. "To our fallen brethren, may they rest with peace. To the Kaiser, may his rule never falter. And to the mighty Ironblood Fleet, may they forever know victory! Prost Eisenblut!"
"Prost Eisenblut!" we shouted, our glasses raised high as we honored our kriegsmarine and the noble sovereign, Kaiser Freidrick III.
Like that man child needs more of an ego boost. I thought, my wine glass covering my smirking smile, which vanished after I finally tasted the liquid. The wine was of a modest taste, poured from a rare bottle that had aged fifty years, it was supplied by the generosity of an old nobleman, yet I would have still preferred something stronger.
A glass of Union Whisky would be nice, not that any man here would dare be caught drinking such a thing. Pulling back from my thoughts, I took a look around at my fellow dining attendants.
Since this was a formal naval celebration, most of the guests were all high ranking officers from the navy, but there were a few people from the army and noble families present as well. There were also, of course, famous kansen in attendance too. No doubt accompanying their respective fleet commanders.
I, myself, had Prinz Eugen with me since she was my fleet's flagship, much to the disappointment of Gneisenau. She was dressed in her usual attire, though she had wished for the chance to break out her special dress she reserved only for formal occasions and such. Thankfully her sour attitude was lifted after promising she may show it to me when we get back to base and in a more… private setting.
While most of the other admiralty here had brought their own kansen flagships as a means of 'showboating', I brought Eugen for a much more practical reason, but that didn't mean she wasn't obliged to enjoy herself.
"Ah… I wish I had wine this extravagant back in the fleet. Say what you will of the nobles, they at least have good tastes." spoke Eugen, her love of fine drinks far exceeding my own.
"If you say so." I said as I looked out at the other guests.
The gathering of this crowd was in celebration of the first Ironblood victory in the Baltic Sea, though it was a minor victory and strategically represented little, it was a major boost to the morale of the nation in a time when such things were in short supply.
Not that there was an abundance of morale going around today. I thought to myself as I sipped my drink again while spotting a few key individuals.
Standing at a center table surrounded by people trying to get in a conversation with him was a dark haired man who looked to be in his forties and wore a prestigious naval uniform that looked more suited for a ball rather than a simple gathering such as this.
This was Fleet Admiral Otto Von Richter, the supreme commander of the kriegsmarine and arguably the most powerful man in the Empire. Yet despite his title, he was hardly deserving of it.
He came from a high noble family who had a long history of involvement within the navy and although he was officially a veteran of the war, his service history was lacking in any combat experience and he was mostly positioned at the rear of the frontline, yet he acted as if he had personally lead ships into direct combat.
It was also well suspected by many that he had only achieved his rank and status due to his sister being rumored to being the Kaiser's mistress, which made him little more than a pawn under the control of the Kaiser. It was a strange thing, politics, so many facts were known yet everyone acted as if they weren't for the sake of maintaining the status quo..
Standing not far from Ritcher was his own kansen representative from the North Sea Fleet, she was acting as if she was listening to the discussion but ultimately looking bored as she sipped her drink.
This was the mighty Friedrich der Grosse, the flagship of the North Sea Fleet and arguably the strongest warship in the entire North Atlantic. She was the first H-class kansen battleship ever built and was instrumental in retaking the North Sea from the enemy, granting her fame second only to the Bismarck sisters. She was even named the honorary flagship of the entire Ironblood Kriegsmarine, not that she was allowed the use of that position over Ritcher's authority.
Standing tall among the many men talking with the admiral, she had also forewent any luxurious dressing, yet her usual attire still held an elegance to it as well as any dress.
Like Eugen's uniform, Friedrich wore a one piece tight fitting dress that ended only a few inches from her crotch, it was of a dark color with gold trimming and buttons. Though Eugen's dress allowed for plenty of bare side views of her chest, Friedrich's chest was completely covered, yet its top was teased with a see-through silk fabric. Her arms were covered with decorative sleeves with spiky black fur at her elbows, and her legs were adorned with high dark silk stockings and hard calf boots. Her hair was a smooth glossy black that traveled as far down as her lower back and was adorned by a set of red horns that were probably only decorative, yet I would not be surprised if she claimed them as very real.
Honestly, compared to some other Ironblood kansens I've met, she was rather conservative when it came to her body; the only skin that she allowed showed being her face, shoulders, and thighs. Yet she was vastly superior to many in terms of her figures' obvious maturity, and she often acted the part of a motherly figure among our kansen fleet.
Yet her dress tended to strike me more as if she was a mourning widower with all that black.
After a moment longer of me staring at the woman, Eugen apparently noticed and pinched my jaw, pulling it over to her face that was adorned by a forced smile that I knew meant she was not happy with me.
"Something catching your eye, my Kommandant?" she spoke fluently in a tone that, while sounding pleasant, possessed a heavy weight to it.
"Just admiring, Eugen; as I am certain many men and women often do when they see you walking by." her smile shortened, knowing my statement to be very true.
"Fine, I suppose I cannot blame your eyes from wandering towards beauty, but just make sure they look at me more than others." I nodded, taking her hand and giving it a chaste kiss, which made the heavy cruiser's cheeks take on a slight red hue.
"Of course, geliebt. But perhaps you should go pay Friedrich a visit, see if there's been any developments from her as of late?"
Folding her arms under her bust, her smile shrank but was still there to keep up appearances, yet her eyes still showed her annoyance.
"Ugh…You know how I feel about how she acts towards me."
"You mean how she seems to dote on you and the other girls all the time?" I countered.
She frowned, probably remembering her past meetings with the battleship; Eugen loved teasing others, but there was something about Friedrich that threw her off her game, like she was just a child trying to out match her parents.
We both glanced back over to the mature kansen only to see her smiling back at us, her one uncovered golden eye sparkled knowingly and raised her glass in our direction. I returned her single toast with my own, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed Eugens brow twitching as she did the same.
"Well?" I urged her on.
She turned back to me and gave me one last forced smile while her hand cupped my cheek, then she lightly slapped me.
"Fich dich." she said, downing the last of her wine glass then turned off to meet with Friedrich, another full glass instantly finding itself in her hands.
I knew I was in for it and would have to show her my appreciation later this evening for her efforts, but despite Eugen's annoyance, I knew she remembered that it was important to keep track of the fleet's leadership without raising too much suspicion. Had I gone over to Friedrich and talked with her myself, it might have brought one to many eyes on me, and I couldn't afford that attention just yet.
The last thing I need is Ritcher on my ass thinking I was trying to poach his flagship.
Besides, I was not here tonight just for information, my eyes were set on a bigger fish. Speaking of which, I finally had spotted my priority for tonight.
Standing towards the hall's balcony door were two individuals.
One was a particularly well aged naval officer, appearing to be in his fifties or so, his hair turning gray but he still appeared to have that same look of command he was famous for on his gray stormy eyes behind a pair of spectacles.
This was Admiral Gunther Merkatz, a noteworthy veteran of the war and a skilled tactician who was instrumental in the retaking and defense of the Skagerrak Strait between Denmark and Norway, preventing the enemy from regaining its access to the Baltic Sea after having been pushed out in 1967.
The other person standing next to him was another kansen who, while beautiful as most kansen are, possessed a more graceful beauty to her. She was almost the exact opposite of Friedrich, where she was black in theme, this woman was all snowy white.
She stood just as high as Merkatz, with her head bearing elegant hair as white as arctic snow and eyes of icy blue, her attire was far more militaristic in style than either Eugen's or Friedrich's (being that it wasn't a one piece). She wore a short off-set white cape over her matching coat. Her black skirt was still on the short side but was hardly more showing than Eugen's. Her legs were adorned by white thigh high stockings with black fur lining, and resting under her arm was a white officers cap.
One would definitely not define her appearance as flirtatious, more so as regent and elegant. Not surprising given she was the sister of the most famous Ironblood battleship ever to sail the seas.
This was Tirpitz, the Lone Queen of the North. She was the second of the Bismarck sisters who'd gained a small but fierce reputation during the war after becoming trapped behind enemy lines all on her own. Unfortunately, her tale rarely told since the one responsible for leaving her behind was none other than Fleet Admiral Ritcher himself.
After taking command of the North Sea Fleet, he'd ordered Tirpitz's fleet to retreat in the middle of combat for fear of the enemy sending a raiding party through into our rear lines, which only turned out to be a single scouting ship. But worse off was Tirpitz who, after receiving damage to her radio, had been unable to receive the order to retreat and was left on her own, fending off enemy attacks for weeks until an Azur Lane lead assault force found her grounded ashore in one of fjords of Norway, her hull barely staying afloat.
The mistake had been an utter embarrassment for the Ironblood and specifically Ritcher himself, who'd gone to great lengths in forging a suitable excuse for his actions. Despite his obvious ineptitude for fleet command, the Kaiser vouched for him to remain in the navy so as to keep a semblance of control over it, but thankfully transferred the admiral back to Hamburg.
And now the mighty battleship served as the flagship of the Baltic Fleet under Admiral Merkatz, the two of them seeming well suited for working with each other. Sadly, neither possessed much in terms of social skills, since they were standing all on their own with only a few people here and giving them respectful greetings.
In all honesty, they were both no longer well appreciated among the other ranking members of the military or the government. It wouldn't surprise me if a few even considered them a threat of one sort or another, politics and prestige tended to make one paranoid of everybody who might covet their position.
Which meant they're exactly the kind of allies I need. I thought, wolfing down the last of my wine, regrettably having to get a new one to keep appearances up, and made my way over to them. After waiting only a few minutes for his current conversation to end, I announced myself.
"Good evening Admiral Merkatz. Madam Tirpitz." I said. Tirpitz presented no reaction to me except for her cold eyes. But, surprisingly, I saw the admiral smile in recognition of me.
"Ah, good evening Vice Admiral… Reuenthal wasn't it?"
"Yes sir, I'm honored you remember me." I said, moving closer to converse with them and hopefully prevent others from interrupting.
"Considering you're the youngest man ever to be promoted as a vice admiral at just twenty-nine, a feat you should be immensely proud of, and of course your achievements in the Azur Lane Initiative, I would be remissive not to remember someone such as you." He said, a small smile adorning his mustached face.
"Oh, you appear to have me flustered sir. I am even more surprised you know of my service history." I said, glancing to Tirpitz only to see her look me over, then turned away as if she was not interested in talking at all.
Just as Eugen warned me, antisocial with a look as cold as ice. I suspected her actions were more out of habit than any dislike towards me, at least I hoped so.
"It is unfortunate your service is not well remembered, but not many of the current admiralty kept track of Azur Lanes activities in the war, most of us were busy defending the North Sea along with the coasts of Norway. But I tried to keep an ear open for any reports that came in." he said, his words reminding me of why I was here.
"Thank you sir. But if I may, might I have a few minutes of your time to discuss something with you, preferably in a more… private setting?" I asked while nodding to the balcony. Merkatz gave me a raised brow, but nodded in acceptance.
He turned back to Tirpitz who shrugged without so much as a word being spoken between them, but instead of coming with us she walked off to the bar area for another drink. The crowd separating for her, either out of respect or fear of her cold gaze.
Both the admiral and I walked out to the balcony where he probably expected us to talk, but I continued on, leading us down the balcony stairs into the small garden below. Once I was confident we were far enough to not be overheard, I sat at a small bench that overlooked the local river that reflected the evening moon.
"Something on your mind son?" he asked after taking a seat next to me, his tone taking on a noticeably guarded tone. "If you felt the need to have this much privacy, I imagine it is an important matter."
"It is indeed an important matter sir, and I would urge you to hold judgment of me until we are finished." I asked him, to which he gave me a long stare with his gray eyes.
From there I began to outline my case for him, giving as much detail and reasoning as I could without giving away too much in the event he decided to betray my trust. But he did not argue against my words, instead listening intently and simply asking for clarity on one point or another. By the time I had finished making my case, I felt as if my breath was reluctant to return to me and I was thankful for the lengthy pause Merkatz allowed in order to think on my words.
Eventually, the admiral sighed and got up from the bench and fished out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He was about to light one when he saw my eyes wander to the pack in his hands and he offered me one. I took this to mean that he, at the very least, was not going to overreact to my plans and that he might even be considering it.
"You are ambitious, son. I'll give you that." he said, blowing smoke through the cool evening breeze. "A rare quality seen today in men as young as you."
"I'll take that as a compliment sir." I said, blowing my own smoke out, its warmth in my chest comforting my nerves as I awaited his decision.
"Going through with this will mark you as a traitor, and risk the very foundations of our nation crumbling to the ground." he said.
"Yes sir, those are very certain possibilities, but doing nothing may simply allow the kettle to boil over anyway. If it's not me, then it'll just be someone else." I reasoned.
"If…" he started, pulling my full attention to him, only to meet his raised hand, causing me to pause any reply I might have had. "Hypothetically speaking, if I were to agree to join you on this endeavor, I have certain reservations that will need addressing."
"Such as?" I asked, satisfaction spreading through me in knowing I had caught his interest.
"In the event you succeed, as difficult as that may seem, what's to stop you from making the same mistakes of all the leaders you are hell bent on replacing? What if the other naval powers choose to become involved? And what will you do if you lose?" his eyes were cold and calculating as the looked at me from the corner of his eyes.
A silence enveloped us as I pondered his questions, knowing what I said next will determine the so much that is to come in the near future.
"If I was to become like those pigs, I expect men like you to stop me. The only nation that will consider troubling us is Britain, but I already have plans for them. And as for losing…" I took a longer drag on my cigarette, the heat pushing my words out for me. "Well that's easy, I won't."
I spoke those words with all the conviction and hatred I had within me, and from there the two of us shared a look that could only be shared by those who have seen the unspeakable horror of war and knew the true cost it required.
"Admiral Merkatz." our gaze was broken by a voice from behind us. Standing a few feet down the path leading back to the hall with her arms behind her back and her cap now placed on her head was Tirpitz, her icy gaze boring down onto me, but then turned her eyes to her superior.
"It is getting rather late sir, perhaps it is time we retired for the evening?" she said, Merkatz lifting his sleeve and finally noticing how long we'd been talking.
"Of course, your correct Tirpitz, I'll be just a moment." she nodded in response but didn't leave her spot, her face betrayed nothing of her thoughts but I began to wonder if she had overheard our little discussion.
"Vice Admiral Reuenthal." spoke Merkatz, regaining my attention. "Our discussion has been… interesting. You have given me a lot to consider regarding the future. And your offer may warrant a night of consideration before I make a final decision, but regardless, you can trust that anything said here will remain confidential."
He walked closer and offered me a hand in fair-well, I took it with a firm grip. "That is probably for the best, sir. Thank you again for your time tonight, I hope to hear from you soon."
Merkatz hummed back with a nod, then walked back up towards the hall, leaving me alone with Tirpitz who seemed to have something of her own to say.
"Something on your mind, Madam Tirpitz?" I asked, but her face remained stone cold for what felt like minutes, until she half turned as she answered.
"Those who have nothing to lose also have nothing to fear... But is that kind of bravery really anything to be proud of, sir?" she asked, but before I could answer she spoke again. "The Admiral is a man who has a great deal to lose, thus he has much to fear, make sure you remember that when he gives you his answer."
And with that, the second of the Bismarck sisters had left, leaving me to my own thoughts,
If you have nothing to lose, you have nothing to fear? I thought, as I turned back to watching the river flow with the moon clear in the night sky.
"Sounds like something you would say, isn't it brother?"
Next - Ch.3: Memories and Mornings.
A/N: Comment if you like it.
Chapter 3: Ch. 3: Memories and Mornings
Chapter Text
Ch.3: Memories and Mornings
FOUR YEARS AGO - October, 1968.
The Battle for Bergen
Unknown POV
As I watched, more and more red blips appeared on the monitors, first there were only a dozen, then two, and then more and more just kept coming.
"How many of them? And how long until they arrive?" I asked, but I was barely able to get the words out without my voice cracking.
"O-over forty ships! Arrival is estimated to be in… t-three hours sir!" said one of my officers, his words only worsening my dread.
"That's too many, our harbor defenses won't even be enough to slow them down!" pointed out another.
"Control yourselves! What's the evacuation status?" I asked as I struggled to maintain what little order there could be had.
"It's only been twenty minutes since the alert was sent out sir, barely a sixth of our people have left the city! W-what are we going to do sir?" questioned my second in command who looked at me with fear on her face.
Such questions were quickly repeated again and again across the command center, everyone's minds were terrified as they watched the large Siren fleet passing the island of Fedje on a direct course for the city of Bergen.
Right to us. I thought, the entire room nearing panic.
"Silence!" I shouted a firm voice, bringing the room to a tense halt and all attention came to me.
"Listen up! Our priority remains the safety of our people, continue organizing evacuation routes out of the city, alert our defense batteries to make ready and hold off the enemy as long as they can. And get word to Oslo, inform them of our situation and request aid immediately. Move it!" With my orders given, the room began to shuffle with clear tasks now focusing their minds away from the fear and panic that threatened to choke them.
But despite my firm tone, I was far from calm within myself. The enemy weren't supposed to have so many ships amassed in the area, but considering their numbers, it's no wonder why our Ironblood garrison fleet never returned.
Damn Rear Admiral Flegal, he was an utter fool to go charging off after only the first alert of the enemy, now it was more than likely he and his fleet were either sunk or probably running off somewhere. Either way, his arrogance has now left us near defenseless with no hope of rescue! I quietly raged to myself.
I knew it was near pointless to request aid, it likely wouldn't get here in time, but I ordered it nonetheless both to let the nation know of the enemy fleet and to help keep my men's hope alive, if only for a little longer.
As the hours ticked by, my officers and I continued our efforts to evacuate as many of the civilians as possible, but a city of two hundred and thirty thousand residents doesn't move in a day.
With every minute the distance between the enemy and the city diminished, soon they were at the entrance of the Askøy Strait and our outermost defenses began striking at the enemy and they returned the attack five times greater.
By now, I knew we would only have minutes left if our defenses lasted long enough, so I simply sat back in my chair, took out a flask of vodka to drink my last minute's way, and now I waited for the end. At the very least I took comfort in the fact that my troops and I had done all we could.
Hopefully word got out and one of the allies sent a fleet to intercept the enemy before they moved on to other cities. I thought as the liquor poured down my throat, a small warm comfort in my last moments.
That is, such thoughts would have been my last, had the sudden destruction of the enemy's frontline ships not brought my attention back to reality. I quickly dropped the open flask and it clanked on the floor as I stood up, utterly shocked at what I was seeing.
"Report?!" I demanded, looking at the overall tactical screen that showed a map of the bay and the surrounding fjords. Marked in red were the many Siren ships attacking us, but now there were new blips that, after a moment, flashed green.
Friendlies?
"New contacts sir, coming up from the Softa Strait in the south and the Herdlefjorden in the north. I-it's an Ironblood fleet! Reinforcements actually came!" shouted his subordinate in surprised excitement.
Wild cheers erupted through the room as we all watched one Siren ship after another catch fire as the German naval artillery did their work.
How the hell did reinforcements get here so quickly? Could it be the garrison fleet returning? I thought, amazed and relieved for the arrival of our last minute saviors, but I set aside those questions for later.
The battle was far from won and those Ironblood, wherever they came from, were going to need covering fire. Bringing the room back to order, I began coordinating our defenses firepower with our new allies.
Bergen might yet survive this night!
Reuenthal POV
I couldn't stop the grin from growing on my face as I stood on the observation platform onboard the kansen cruiser Prinz Eugen with a pair of binoculars to my face, watching the Sirens fumble in reorganizing themselves after our initial barrage.
Through luck and skill, the fleet had managed to remain undetected by the enemy and we now had the advantage of surprise, at least for the first few minutes of the battle.
"The closest Sirens are shifting their aim towards us, three pawns and a bishop, begin pulling back into the fjord but not too fast; we need to draw them into the strait, then have the destroyers launch a torpedo volley into their ranks. After that, we'll pull back to point two and draw them further away from the city while Mainz and Scharnhorst's flanking forces move in to cut them off from their retreat." I spoke.
At my side stood my kansen flagship, Prinz Eugen herself who radioed my orders with a smug look on her face, her own guns disabling yet another enemy ship.
"All ships acknowledge, commander. Scharnhorst is stationing just off the remnants of Fort Ramsøy and Mainz is only minutes away from entering Bergen's bay. All seems to be going as planned." Eugen said.
For now. I thought.
The enemy still outnumbered my ships three to one. Were this battle in open waters we'd have no chance, but here in the fjords there are dozens of choke points through narrow straits that will allow us to bottleneck the enemy, making their numbers useless against us.
As long as our ammunition and luck doesn't run out at least.
In response to our attack, a group of the enemy's smaller Pawn-class ships charged us through the strait in an effort to disrupt my forces long enough for their capital ships to get into position, which only pushed them right into my plan.
"~And here they come, like bees to a flower.~" fluently spoke Eugen, her wicked smile never faltering from her face, "~Oh little ones, it's your turn.~"
"Stop calling us little!" A younger voice shouted back at the cruiser from the radio.
Then several smaller destroyer kansen girls moved in, skating on the water with their riggings as they began sabotaging the enemy ships at close range, one by one the Sirens small escorts became disabled and were prime targets for my larger Ironblood ships to obliterate.
After the destroyers had cleared the line of fire, I ordered the three cruisers of my battleline to hit the enemy with all they had. Eugen, Hipper, and Graf Spee unleashed their full might against the enemy.
The result was the destruction of the Siren's escort units, whose burning hulls now blocked a majority of the straight, trapping the larger enemy hulls where they were, and presenting them as prime targets for Scharnhorst and Mainz to strike at from their rear with their escorts.
And attack they did.
Explosions from behind the enemy's front and the echo of large caliber artillery told me Scharnhorst was having fun with her task.
Mainz and her group got to work too as I saw more explosions to the enemy's right flank near the opening to Bergen harbor.
With the enemy's attention now divided in three different directions, it was merely a matter of fighting smartly and methodically.
Thus the battle progressed throughout the following hours of the night until the first spark of dawn broke above the mountains of the frosty fjords, illuminating the burning hulks of what was left of the Siren forces.
After regrouping with my detached forces, it was more than obvious the battle had ended in victory, thankfully with only a few wounded among my fleet.
Though a few Siren ships had escaped, their numbers were no longer large enough to be a major threat within the North Sea.
After mooring in Bergen harbor, my fleet thankfully began receiving what little repair assistance their small port could offer, but we were more than welcome by the local population after we had managed to save them from certain death at the hands of the Sirens.
A celebration was made and we did little else but eat, drink, and laugh to our victory.
As a bonus, Eugen surprised me with a passionate kiss in front of the whole crowd on the first night of dining. Cheers and whoops were shouted at us though I barely registered their calls, instead I looked at Eugen in a different light.
"A glorious moment not sealed by a kiss, is a moment wasted." she whispered to my ear, and with that, the fun and passionate night that followed was one I would never forget as long as I lived.
While I knew what would eventually be awaiting me upon my return to Hamburg, I took what time I had to bask in my victory for as long as I was able to.
Five Days Later
"Captain Victor Von Reuenthal, come forth." I came to attention as I stood in a small courtroom.
The speaker, an older commodore, looked at me with contempt and irritation as I walked forward. A look shared by the majority of the dark courtroom's occupants.
Upon my return from Norway, the Prinz Eugen was boarded and I was immediately arrested by military police.
Eugen and the rest of the fleet tried to speak on my behalf, as well as made quite a few threats that made the arresting officers tremble, but the presence of several other Ironblood kansens prevented any of them from acting out further.
From there it was straight to a prison cell where I stayed for a day or two until I was dragged out and immediately brought into this tribunal court.
The lawyer who apparently was representing me simply told me to shut up and play along unless I wanted to worsen my sentence.
So here I was, standing before a group of unfamiliar officers that would now decide my fate.
The commodore cleared his voice and brought up a document paper and began reading.
"You now stand accused of the following charges: Mutiny against your commanding officer, Rear Admiral Hans Von Flegal. Disorderly and dishonorable conduct in physically assaulting said superior officer. Instilling and promoting open rebellion among the kansen ships of the North Sea Fleet's second attack squadron. And lastly, failure in acknowledging and maintaining communications with the Ironblood Fleet Command after repeated orders to stand down from your activities." After the commodore finished speaking, he looked to my lawyer who stood next to me.
"The charges have been called, how does the defense plead?" he asked..
"The defense has chosen not to dispute the charges, sir." The lawyer spoke with a practiced monotone voice while I looked at him in shock, his words astounding me.
He was a military legal representative whose job was to act in the defense of his wards in court, but thus far the man had made no effort to act in any way towards my defense.
Looking at the witnesses around me, I saw no sympathy towards me, only stoic faces and ugly grins.
This… this entire preceding is nothing more than a drumhead trial! No case was ever intended to be discussed or argued here, all of this was mere theatrics made to appease egos, nothing said in my defense would make any difference. The outcome was already decided. I thought, finally realizing the true absurdity of the situation.
Glancing from my spot at the center of the room, I looked up to the row of high ranking flag officers who were administering this trial, each was probably specifically chosen on the basis that they would convict me as guilty. Despite that likely fact, most of them looked extremely uncomfortable in being involved with this.
Since they were about to sentence the man who had won the greatest Ironblood victory in recent memory against such outnumbered odds, I imagine even they felt that this trial was wrong, yet still not one of them seemed eager to speak out against it. I thought as I tried to make eye contact with each one, but almost all avoided my gaze.
"Captain Reuenthal, prepare to answer the questions of the court regarding the details of your actions." instructed the commodore.
I glanced at him to nod solemnly, then caught sight of my former commanding officer who had just been mentioned in the charges, Rear Admiral and High Noble Baron Hans Von Flegal was sitting off to the side as an observer and witness of the court.
He looked almost just as I remembered, shorter than most men in height but was gifted with a luscious head of dirty golden hair, yet his physical appearance was rather pale and weak.
Considering he probably had never known the feeling of a hard day's labor, it made sense his body would be rather lacking in proper muscle and body fat.
His current health however was apparently in question since he now sat in a wheelchair with his arm in a hanging cast and his face adorned by several medical patches, the largest over his nose.
Apparently I had been so violent in striking him that he required a large degree of medical attention.
But he was actually quite a funny sight all bandaged up like that, considering all I did was break his nose after punching him in the face, perhaps the rest of his injuries must have magically appeared from his sudden fall to the ground afterwards.
Who knew high nobles turned admirals were so fragile? The humor brought a smirk to my face.
Upon catching my eyes, I gave the leech a hard look and Flegal's sour face flinched, his eyes finding other targets away from me. While he had the gall to appear as a victim in want of justice, he apparently wasn't brave enough to look me in the eye.
A fleeting feeling of satisfaction poured into me until I glanced over to a man standing next to Flegal who placed a hand on the baron's shoulder in support, but his grip seemed tighter than it needed to be.
The man stood taller than me in height and was also gifted with rather luscious brown hair that flowed down his head to his shoulders. His face was older but showed no sign of weariness or stress, owing to the man coming from privilege and nobility. Though I had never met him personally, I knew of him and what his presence here meant.
This was Duke Otto Von Ritcher, an Admiral in the Kriegsmarine and the commander of the North Sea Fleet, who also happens to be Flegel's uncle.
Ritcher had achieved his rank and position mostly through political deals and intimidation of anyone who dared challenge his goals, and without his influence it would have been impossible for an incompetent man like Flegal to have received his own rank in the navy, so it made sense the Duke would bring swift punishment to whoever got in his way.
Unlike his nephew, Ritcher's face never faltered in his smugness at my glare, if anything he smirked more at my expense.
No doubt it was Ritcher who orchestrated this entire trial for the sake of righting his family's honor that I just so happened to have tarnished after my actions preceding the battle for Bergen.
With such high opinions of themselves, one would think the nobles would at least make some effort into earning their standing instead of just being granted their commissions. I thought to myself, remembering how the military often kneeled to the whims of the noble families since they aided in its funding.
I wonder how much an admiral's rank costs these days?
"Captain Reuenthal." the voice of the head admiral of the tribunal board called my attention back. "Before we continue with the trial, is there anything you wish to say to the court?"
The question may have seemed like a courteous gesture, but it was probably just a chance given by Duke Ritcher for me to admit my wrong doing and plead for mercy. Or perhaps he wanted me to spout some nonsense of how unfair it all is and how I deserved better, he might like seeing the futility of my words falling on deaf ears.
Regardless, I still intend to take advantage of it.
Afterall if I was going to be condemned no matter what I said, I might as well make it enjoyable for myself and throw some insults at the man's ego.
"Yes, I do." the room became even more silent as they awaited my words. "I would just like to say that I-"
"Room! Attention! Salute the Fleet Admiral!" shouted a voice behind me, immediately the entire room turned and rose to attention with everyone giving the man who had just entered firm salutes.
As I turned around myself, I was met with a man who looked to be in his sixties with dark-gray hair and a hard face that sported a set of intimidating sideburns that traveled down to a full mustache.
His uniform was well adorned with medals and citations, but the most noticeable pieces were the gold shoulder epaulets that bore the highest rank within the German Imperial Navy.
Standing before the room was none other than the infamous Fleet Admiral Sigurd Von Reinhertz, the supreme commander of the entire Kriegsmarine.
Before I had even realized I had done so, I was saluting the flag officer, my stance more straight than it had ever been.
How could I not? Standing before me was the man who had rallied the allied forces in the Baltic Sea and led the final push against the Siren forces, finally routing them out of the region beyond the Skagerrak Strait of Denmark.
He also was a well honored noble with the high title of Duke and was the head of one of the most prestigious families in all the empire, yet his bravery in battle and attentiveness to his subordinates had afforded him high popularity among the common people.
And it was generally known that he bore a steep dislike of Duke Ritcher and other high nobles who used their family status to profit only themselves.
After a glance around the room, the fleet admiral returned the salute and it was only after he had placed his hand down that the room released their own salutes.
"G-good afternoon sir, to what do we owe the honor of your presence?" nervously asked the head officer of the tribunal as Reinhertz walked forward to stand before them, stopping right next to me.
It was then I noticed another man had entered the room behind the fleet admiral, though he wore civilian clothes and chose to stand back to observe rather than accompany the officer up, but the man's arrival was just as much a shock to me as the admirals.
What are you doing here brother? I thought, but dared not speak without consent of the fleet admiral as he began conversing with the tribunal head officer.
"I was just passing through when I heard talk of this little event. Might I ask why you are charging a man after he has accomplished such a praising victory against the enemy earlier this week?" he asked, his voice was firm and deep, a fitting tone for one such as him.
The tribunal's head officer looked extremely uncomfortable in the presence of his superior.
"Yes sir, he was victorious, but that should not overshadow his actions prior to the battle. Military law is extremely firm on the consequences for insubordination and treason against a superior officer." stated the officer, his voice remained unbroken but he still bore a nervous sweat.
"Maybe so, but what of the kansen who chose to follow him. When will their trial begin, if I may ask?" the fleet admiral's question was met with silence.
Not having any idea of how to answer, the high seated officer glanced over to Admiral Ritcher in a vain attempt to ask for assistance. I followed his gaze and saw the man now bore an annoyed glare at Reinhertz, and as for Flegal, he was now standing straight up with no noticeable strain or pain from his so-called injuries that required a wheelchair.
A sudden recovery, how convenient.
Reinhertz, catching the look as well, turned his attention to the two high nobles and walked up to them.
"Ritcher." greeted the fleet admiral.
"Reinhertz." the admiral answered in return.
The tension between the two men was impossible to miss and it seemed to flood the whole room with unease. Then Reinhertz turned to Flegal, much to the young noble's displeasure.
"Since you are the victim of these charges, perhaps you can enlighten me more into their details, Rear Admiral Flegal. That is, if your injuries are not… straining you too much."
Flegal's face was extremely red with embarrassment from his mistake of ruining his look of a wounded victim by standing up and compromising himself before Reinhertz who could now guess that most of his injuries were false.
"Y-yes sir, y-you see, sir, Captain Reuenthal is obviously guilty of several crimes of military regulations against both myself and the North Sea Fleet, I have over a dozen eyewitness accounts. T-this court is charged with administering his punishment." spouted Flegal, though there was no confidence or authority in his voice.
"Is that so?" Reinhertz's look was enough to crack ice and the younger admiral's legs were starting to shake under his gaze.
But before Flegal could collapse under his intimidation, the fleet admiral glanced back at me with a sharp look of consideration that still made me stand even straighter.
After another few seconds of the fleet admiral thinking to himself, Reinhertz walked back up to the board of officers. "If you would permit it, I request a recess and an audience with all those who are involved in these charges."
The head officer, still unable to compose himself, nervously glanced over to Ritcher who slowly nodded with a scowl on his face, granting the board permission to call a recess and confirming who was really running this trial.
"Thank you." Reinhertz said, glancing back to Ritcher as he spoke, then turned back to the rest of the room. "Clear the room please."
Upon his request, all those who were merely observers or had other duties within the court immediately began filing out, leaving only a small group composed of Richter and Flegal, the fleet admiral, the board officers, and myself.
That is until Reinhertz finally spoke to me.
"Wait outside, Captain Reuenthal. I will talk with you afterwards." the fleet admiral said, confusing me for a moment, but the look he gave me screamed that that was one order that was not to be ignored.
Giving him one last salute, I quickly walked out of the room, the doors closing behind me and I finally sucked in a full breath I had been holding.
Questions flew through my head over what had just happened and what could possibly have convinced the fleet admiral to intervene in my trial.
A clearing of a throat drew my attention and, once again surprising me, I saw a familiar man sitting on a chair set before an open window. His name was Ernest Von Reuenthal, my older brother.
My brother and I shared many similar features. He was slightly taller by only a few centimeters and grew his lightly brown hair longer than mine, but our eyes were the same striking blue. Had he joined the navy like myself, it is likely the two of us would have been often confused for one another.
"Victor, it's been a long time." he said.
"Over three years, before the war started." I replied.
The two of us stayed silent as we looked over each other.
My brother hadn't grown much since the last time I saw him, but his hair was longer and styled differently, I'm sure he was thinking similar thoughts of me.
After one too many seconds went by without either of us talking, Ernest gestured to the adjacent seat and I simply took it without any argument.
"You've certainly wedged yourself under a mountain of trouble this time, haven't you little brother." he stated.
"I guess I have, but regardless I have no regrets for my actions." I said, not at all surprised he was getting straight to the point.
That's how my brother was, all business and no time for anything personal.
"I figured you wouldn't, but that doesn't make the situation any better. Do you know how much trouble you have caused, not only for yourself but for the entire family?"
"Last I checked, neither you nor father or mother had any interest in my career in the military, why should I worry about them if they don't worry about me?" I countered.
"Don't talk like that, of course they worry about you, we all do."
"Then why aren't they here?" I pointed out, but I had said too much.
"Enough Victor! Do you even realize the full scale of the situation we are all now in?! Not only did you disobey and strike down a superior officer, you humiliated one of the top noble families of the empire! Baron Flegal may not carry the name of the Ritcher family, but he is no less a part of it. As a consequence, nearly all of the Reuenthal family's assets are being pillaged by allied families of the Ritchers, we are now at risk of losing our noble status all together." Ernest explained.
"Noble status… is that all you're here for, to lecture me on how wrong I was to put two hundred thousand civilian lives before my own family name? If it is, you're wasting your breath." I said, my glare intensifying as the conversation dove into what usually happens whenever my brother and I talk, we always end up fighting.
"I know what you did was an incredibly brave act but… Damn it Victor! It isn't like you have nothing to lose!" he countered.
"Like what? My life? I'm a soldier, it's my job to put that on the line. As for my name, I honestly couldn't care less about it. If Father disowned me, perhaps that would be for the best." I said.
The idea of him doing so was not too far-fetched. He and I had never agreed with each other on anything, he didn't approve of me attending the naval academy, and had never even once written to me. Me being gone would probably be the best thing for him.
I sighed in resignation of the facts. "So why don't you just go back to- ugh!"
Before I realized it, Ernest was on his feat with one hand tightly gripping my collar and the other reared back in a clenched palm ready to strike.
"It isn't just your name on the line you idiot!" he nearly shouted, the venom laced within Ernest's voice was more than I had ever heard him say before.
I was completely shocked his normally conserved temper cracked so easily and I clenched jaw in anticipation... yet he stayed his fist.
Instead, Ernest took a deep breath, released me, and then slouched back, in his chair looking exhausted as if the whole world was on his shoulders. But his eyes remained firm in their glaring of me.
"It's my name too! It's our sisters', our mothers', and my own children's name for God's sake! Whether you like it or not, your actions have put all of us at risk!"
His words had struck at my heart with guilt and I looked away from my brother's eyes in shame.
While I was not on the best of terms with my parents, I never intended on bringing the rest of my family any harm, but I always seemed to end up being the black sheep of my siblings.
"I… never meant for that to happen, the situation just… got out of hand." I admitted, and thankfully my brother took a breath and motioned for me to continue.
"Had I done nothing, an entire city would be burning right now and a Siren fleet would have been left unchallenged to spread across the North Sea bringing more death and destruction to the region. My decision… may not have been the smart one for our family, but it was still the right one." I explained, and thankfully Ernest lost some of his anger in hearing me out.
"Sigh-I know it was little brother, and were our places reversed I doubt I would have had the courage to make that choice. But you must understand, your actions are reflected on our family; for both the good, and most especially the bad." his statement was far from wrong and he deflated my will to argue more with him.
How he managed to find all the right words to silence me was beyond my understanding, but I guess that's what older brothers are for.
"Well, who knows, maybe by today's end I might be permanently out of your hair if Duke Ritcher has anything to say about it." I said, the sullen mood not helping my already low esteem.
But a small chuckle from Ernest cleared my depression, but only exchanging it with confusion.
"Don't be so sure of that Victor, after all we have Duke Reinhertz in there, hopefully he's speaking on our behalf. Or more specifically yours." Ernest's words had finally connected another question that was hot on my mind.
"You brought the fleet admiral into this? How did you manage that, and more importantly why is he bothering to help me at all?" I asked.
"The Duke and I have been having secret talks for months. We've been working together in finding ways to increase our nation's industrial capabilities, without the other noble's personal interests interfering, but after hearing of your impending trial I decided he was your best chance so I pleaded with him for help. But he seemed just as eager to help you as I was, apparently you've caught the man's favor as of late." That was hard to believe.
I had never actually met the fleet admiral, and while my latest battle may have been noteworthy, I couldn't think of any further reason for him to favor me from before that.
"Why would he want to-" CRACK!
Before I could say more, the trial room doors violently opened, revealing an angered Baron Flegal whose face was now red with rage. Looking at me, his gaze was the ugliest look I had ever seen on a man; he began to storm our way, ignorant of how his body now moved without even a hint of pain despite his apparent injuries.
"You unworthy rat! When I am through with you-"
"Enough Flegal." spoke the deep voice of Duke Ritcher as the older nobleman exited the room next, with Duke Reinhertz right behind him.
"B-but uncle! This bastard is not worth your mercy and deserves-!"
"I said that that's enough. The decision is made. If you want retribution, you must be patient… for now." Ritcher said, looking right at me with his own disapproving glare. "You should count yourself fortunate, Captain Reuenthal, but be warned. The next time you overstep your place, there will be no mercy for you."
With that, both of the noblemen left with the tribunal officers soon following after their masters, leaving the fleet admiral with my brother and I. It was only after the group had gone out of sight that his gaze relaxed as he turned to look at us.
"You certainly are well versed in irritating the high nobles, young man. Let's hope it is a habit you do not take part in too often." spoke the fleet admiral in his softer but still commanding voice that compelled me to once again stand straighter.
"No sir." was all I said, still not believing the man had come to my aid.
After a hum in acknowledgement of my words, Reinhertz looked at my brother who, while not standing as straight as I, still presented respect to him with a small bow.
"My lord Duke. As the next head of the Reuenthal family, I express my deepest gratitude for your favor on this day and swear that from here on you will have the full loyalty and support of my family." Ernest spoke, while I had expected some sort of personal oath of loyalty from him, even I knew pledging our entire family was a bold step on my brother's part.
This meant that no matter what Reinhertz requested, every member and asset the Reuenthal family possessed would work towards succeeding in his desired goals. That included myself.
I hope you know what you're doing. I thought to Ernest, feeling as though I had traded one fowl fate for another.
"I humbly accept your loyalty and promise I shall not take it lightly. But for now, I would like a word with Captain Reuenthal, in private." his gaze on me as he spoke was… unnerving. I felt as though I was a sheep now at the mercy of a mighty wolf who was deciding whether I was worth the effort to eat..
Ernest nodded and, after giving me a warning look to behave myself, left us to our talk.
"Walk with me son." spoke Reinhertz, and I immediately fell in next to him but still a step behind as a show of respect.
We did not speak one word until we reached the outer courtyard, by then I found the lack of speech unbearable.
"If I may, sir, I too am grateful for your help today. But I must ask, how did you convince them against charging me?" the question had been on my mind ever since the fleet admiral had entered the trial room.
"I explained to them that, while your actions against Flegal were obviously disrespectful and a major breach of the military code of justice, we are still in the middle of a war. Your victory has been the greatest our navy has won on its own in over a year, thus your skills were deemed too valuable to be locked away." Reinhertz spoke as we walked.
"I doubt that was enough to satisfy them sir." I said, longing for the full picture.
"Correct, I ended up compromising with them. In exchange for dropping the charges, I promised that the true events leading up to the battle in which Admiral Flegal had abandoned his post would not be made known to the public. Such a disgrace would be a huge blow against the Ritcher family name." he said, and I couldn't help but think maybe getting imprisoned would not be the worst idea if it meant Flegal got what was coming to him.
"Additionally," the vice admiral's eyes narrowed before he continued, "I gave full credit of our victory to Flegal."
Upon speaking those words, I couldn't help but stop mid step. All of my thoughts pausing in disbelief.
I did not consider myself to be a prideful man, but the idea of giving all the credit my fleet earned to that… weasel of a man was impossible for me to accept.
He hadn't risked his life or put the needs of others before himself, he was a coward and a liar who had never earned his titles, he lived a life of privilege and comfort with the expectation that he was entitled to everything he desired.
I should have just shot him dead, it would have saved the world a lot of trouble and misery.
My anger must have been obvious to the fleet admiral and I expected him to scold me to not waste my breath over the nobles, but instead he placed a hand on my shoulder with a firm grip that brought me back to reality.
"It is unfair and an injustice, I know. But our nation does not need justice at the moment, it needs dedication. This war is far from over, and I need every capable officer I can get out there fighting and winning. That includes you, Captain Reuenthal." Reinhertz spoke with a care and understanding I had never really received from a superior officer in all of my career in the navy.
"I… understand sir." I said.
Truthfully it was the best outcome that I could receive, all things considered. But I still felt the painful spike of bitterness in my heart.
"Besides." started the fleet admiral, his tone regaining its firmness, but face now bore a rather evil look.
"Men like Flegal and Ritcher will always make mistakes, it is in their nature, this was not their first misuse of their authority nor will it be their last. Nobles like them are weak to temptation and fear, a far cry from the nobles of the old ages that founded our great nation. For now we must tolerate them, the war comes first, but once it's over… perhaps then we can begin addressing the issues that plague our nation more… thoroughly."
Of all the things I expected to hear from a man like the fleet admiral, who was an honored high noble himself, words such as these were not among them. They were the words of reformation and change, such things were seldom spoken by the likes of noblemen such as the Duke.
"If… that is your intention for the future sir, then what is it you require of me?" I asked, curious as to why he would want to involve himself with me, an officer who'd just shown blatant disobedience to their superior.
"For you, captain, all I need you to do is win. But you must also exercise restraint in any further… disagreements with the nobles. This incident may have been avoided, but you now have their attention, they will be looking for an excuse to get their revenge for your actions; Flegal especially." he warned.
"Considering I'm still under his command, I expect to be relegated somewhere in the rear lines, it may take me some time to work my way back to a combat position." I said, already dreading the mountain of paperwork I'll be buried in.
"That won't be a problem. As of today you've been transferred from the North Sea Fleet to the first cruiser squadron of the newly formed High Seas Fleet under Vice Admiral Gunther Hauser." Once again, surprise hit my face.
The High Seas Fleet, a designation given only to the Kriegsmarine's strongest battle group that was intended to operate in the open waters of the Atlantic. It hadn't been used since the time of the First World War, but with the North Sea being almost completely secured, I supposed the Ironblood now had to turn its fleet out onto the rest of the world.
And now I was going to be a part of it.
"I-I'm honored sir. But aren't they scheduled to deploy soon?" I asked.
"Indeed they are, next week to be specific, I'll have your orders written up by the end of the day. Until then, best pack up and mentally prepare yourself. While Flegal was impudent as an admiral, Hauser is the complete opposite. He will expect your best, as will I. Report to my office by 1700 tonight for your paperwork, understood?" finished the fleet admiral and with a crisp 'yes sir' I saluted and he returned it in kind.
It wasn't until I lost sight of the fleet admiral that I remembered to breathe and began to walk towards the exit of the grounds. While I walked, my thoughts were flooded with what had just happened and how lucky I had been, but also how annoyed I was at myself.
Were it not for Ernest or the fleet admiral, I'd be on my way to a dark cell to rot away while my family would be forced into poverty. All because I wanted to do the right thing, what kind of world allows men such as Flegal and Ritcher to have so much power and not face the consequences of abusing it? I thought as anger boiled within me.
Though I was now safe, it was only due to the actions of others that my life was spared. I felt utterly useless and wanted nothing more than to find Flegal and give him a real reason to be in a wheelchair.
As I continued to walk on, my anger clouded anything and anyone I passed by; that is until I noticed a presence that was following me,I stopped and turned to face the person committed to chase them away.
But my voice went dry in my throat as I gazed into a pair of familiar ember eyes that were as bright as an inferno.
Prinz Eugen?!
"~Oh my, what an ugly face you are wearing today.~" she spoke as I had stopped dead in my tracks, whatever anger I felt suddenly left me as I looked at the kansen whose hand somehow found itself caressing my cheek affectionately.
Eugen looked as stunning as I remembered her to be. Despite it only having been a few days apart, I found I had been missing her presence and seeing her now seemed to quell all of my rage.
"Eugen, what are you doing here?" I asked, she simply giggled at me.
"What a silly question, where else should I be after hearing the man I favor has been unjustly arrested? I would think you'd be happy to see us." she says with a pout, the cute act forcing a smile on me.
Wait, 'us'? I thought as I looked behind Eugen and saw she hadn't come alone.
Standing behind her were two other kansen whom I had commanded at Bergen.
The fast battleship Scharnhorst and the light cruiser Mainz, the former leaning back on a lamp post with a friendly smirk on her face as she gazed at me with her two deep blue eyes, and the latter was standing tall with her hands clasped behind her back but her face also bore a friendly smile.
"You both came too?" I asked.
"Of course we did sir, it would be improper of us not to show our support for you." spoke Mainz, but our attention was drawn to Scharnhorst who was giggling like a mischievous child.
"He he, yeah. That, and we were actually thinking of going in guns blazing and busting you out like the rebels they think we are." the boisterous battleship admitted.
"Scharn! Don't tell him that! Please forget what you heard sir! We were only…j-joking about such things. Right, Eugen?" Mainz looked to her fellow cruiser for help.
"~Actually, I found the idea quite appealing, all of us going out on our own again. It was so much fun the first time after all.~" Eugen teased her friend, much to Mainz's annoyance.
Still surprised by their presence, I looked back to Eugen who met my gaze, her beautiful smile was the same I had seen the night we indulged in celebration in Bergen, and I somehow found myself blushing at the drunken memories.
"But… why?" I asked.
"~Tch, tch, tch!~ Yet another silly question. No matter what those noble pigs may say, you've more than proven yourself to us by showing you're a man we can trust our lives with. So you are unfortunately stuck with us until we find somebody better, I hope you can keep up, my deer commander." she said, hooking her arm into mine and leading me away with her two companions in tow.
Today may have had its downs and ups but perhaps now, with a new fleet and a new purpose, my future would take me farther than I ever thought possible.
Slowly, the world seemed to brighten, and my eyes became heavy. Closing them I heard a voice coaxing me back and when I opened them again, I felt as if my whole life had just gone by, and I was met yet again with a pair of eyes that held the warm glow of an inferno.
Present Day - 1300 hrs - April 8th, 1972
Military Docks of Rostock, Germany.
"Wake up my dear geliebt. Did you have pleasant dreams?" spoke an elegant voice that brought me back from my slumber.
Opening my eyes, I found I was right where I expected to be, laying on my ship bunk for a nap after a long overnight sea voyage from Hamburg followed by meeting after meeting of various issues and topics, all of which were of one priority or another. Though there were now some key differences to my bed from when I had fallen asleep alone in it.
For one, I was no longer alone.
Instead of a feathery pillow that I had drifted off on, my head was now resting on the cushy thighs of none other than Prinz Eugen as she sat on my bunk with her hand gently scratching through my hair, the massaging feeling threatened to coax me back to sleep.
How does she always manage to keep me asleep when she sneaks into my bed? I wondered, but knew she would never say how, calling it her 'trade secret'.
Glancing up at her, I saw those same eyes I had seen in my dreams while her exquisite bust hid the bottom of her chin, her pale bangs flowed down to me as they framed her shadowed face.
With such beauty before me, I found I didn't want to speak for fear of spoiling this amazing sight, but then that annoying voice in the back of my mind reminded me there were things still left to do today.
"What time is it?" I asked, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
"~Oh~ Afraid you might have slept the day away? What a truly awful fate for the great war hero of the Ironblood." she teased, her finger twirling a lock of my gold hair.
I knew she was only kidding around, but still, I began mentally preparing myself to force my way off of these heavenly thighs. But her hand pressed down on my forehead, preventing me from going anywhere.
"Oh relax for once, the day is hardly all spent so just lay back and enjoy the moment before I change my mind." she said with her familiar scolding tone.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw that she was right that there were still plenty of hours to work with, so I settled for staying where I was for a little longer with my head comfortably resting on the lap of a beautiful woman.
Despite these passionate moments together, Eugen and I were still very busy individuals who hardly had time to ourselves let alone each other. So times like now were precious, and they demanded I spare what time I could for them.
On her part, Eugen seemed more than happy to have these small indulgences of our relationship.
While she often portrays the look of a devilish and scheming woman (which was entirely true), she was also a person of passion, though some of her wickedness on the battlefield does show from time to time when we lose ourselves in the throws of our intimate nightly activities.
Perhaps that's what one could call her personal charm or something along those lines. I thought.
"You know Victor, you should take more time for resting like this, your plans will mean nothing if you are too exhausted to see them completed. Perhaps a day off would be in order?" Eugen offered.
"If it pleases you, today I will be taking the evening off to visit an old friend of ours out in Rostock."
"Might that be our devious sponsor, Duke Reinhertz?" she asked.
"In fact it is."
"Then it's hardly a time of rest and relaxation, even I find that being around that man to be taxing." she complained, her face taking on that familiar cute pout. "Besides, you offer that old man far too much leniency; he's been retired from the service for years and you are now a vice admiral, surely he should be the one to be visiting you?"
"Perhaps one day…" I said, then gazed back into her eyes, remembering the look she gave me on the day I was on trial all those years ago. She looked as beautiful then, as she does now.
"~Hm? What has you looking at me like that?.~" she asked, noticing how deeply I was looking at her.
"...Do you remember Bergen?" I asked out of the blue, she didn't seem surprised, but instead bore a happy smile at her own memories of back then.
"How could I not? That was our first true victory together. It showed me your brilliance in battle," her eyes gained a teasing look, "and your furosity in bed."
"Heh, you were pretty excited that night yourself." I pointed out, more than used to her teases after all these years.
"I suppose I was, but then you went and had me all worried when they dragged you away to that ridiculous tribunal." she said with a frown.
"You were actually worried about me back then?" I asked, giving her some teasing of my own. Eugen's face made a rare blush, then formed a pout.
"Maybe a little." she mumbled, I would have laughed if I hadn't known she would pinch me as a punishment. "You were the first one that ever let me fight my way, if not for you I would have been stuck with that idiot Flegal for the rest of the war."
Her look changed back to her loving smile as she lowered her head to be just above mine as we looked into each other.
"I owe you so much, mein liebling." she quietly whispered to me, as if we were two young kids hiding away our love together.
I gripped over her hand that now rested on my cheek and smiled back at her.
"Without you, all the other kansens would never have followed me in the beginning. You trusted me, and I can never thank you enough for that." I said, our gazes locked until she leaned the rest of the way down and kissed me.
When she pulled back, her loving eyes were now partnered with a knowing smirk.
"~I can think of one or two ways you can repay me very easily, my dear Victor.~" she said, a spark of lust struck me at her insinuated offer.
"Should I reschedule my dinner plans?" I asked, my body already starting to react appropriately to the now heavy sexual feeling of the room.
Upon noticing the same thing, Eugen smirked and moved her legs out from under my head then promptly straddled my groin that tensed at the pressure of her own.
"~Why don't we just see where the afternoon takes us.~" she said, leaning down on my chest to capture my lips again.
From there our clothes were removed, deeper kisses were exchanged, and pleasure was shared by both of us for many hours later.
Unsurprisingly, I ended up rescheduling my dinner for the next day.
0715 hrs - April 9th, 1972
UNS Matterhorn - Almada Docks, Lisbon
Ford POV
"And that concludes the morning briefing, team leaders head back to your duty stations. Commander Howell, inform me on when the Danube's radar is back up. Senior Chief Kyle, get with port security, I want that ammunition on board the Matterhorn within the next few hours. Any questions… good, let's get to work." As Captain Augustus finished her brief, the whole command staff stood up from their seats in the Matterhorn's briefing room.
It was the same one where I had been introduced to all the kansens of Third Squadron. Since then I had been touring the ships of the fleet, mainly the Matterhorn and the Danube, learning how to get to where and who was in charge of what.
It was a lot of information to take in, but thankfully the captain wanted me to keep going around the squadron for the remainder of the week in order to get familiar with everything.
Today was particularly exciting because I was scheduled to meet up with the kansens again and head out of port to do some gunnery training. I was looking forward to getting to know them better and see what they could do, they seemed like an interesting bunch, if not a little odd in some ways.
"Commander Ford, with me." spoke the captain, directing me to follow her down the hall. "Now today you will be getting a more in-depth introduction into the capabilities of our kansens. I guarantee you will be impressed with them."
"Yes ma'am. Still gunnery training then?" I asked, hoping she would confirm the plan, since plans often had a habit of changing in any military.
"Correct. Since the weather happens to be calm today, we'll be doing monthly zeroing roughly twelve kilometers offshore to the south-west. You may find some of their methods very… interesting" she said, once again giving me that familiar knowing smile. "Don't worry too much about it, they're styles at least get results. After you get ready, head to pier four to meet up with Pennsylvania on her hull."
"Understood." I said and turned to leave for my room, but halfway into my turn she stopped me with a firm hand on my arm.
"One last thing Commander." she glanced around then pulled me aside of the walkway and lowered her voice. "This hasn't been told to you yet, but Pennsylvania has a certain… habit that can sometimes get the better of her. As a veteran and a battle survivor, I trust you to not make quick judgments if you find her part-taking in her habit; if she needs help getting ready just get Kirov, she'll know what to do."
The way the captain looked at me spoke of how important that advice was, and considering it sounded like a personal issue with the kansen battleship, meant the situation might be delicate.
"Yes ma'am. I'll be careful." My words didn't seem to convince her, but she sighed and allowed me to continue as she left to complete some of her own last minute preparations.
As I walked down to my room, I thought of what might be this 'habit' of Pennsylvania's and why it would cause the captain to be so careful when discussing it.
An hour later, I was standing on pier four in my dark blue duty uniform with its sleeves rolled up and my name tapes written in clear gold stitching, a matching styled ball cap rested on my head. Under my arm was a folded windbreaker that I was bringing as a precaution. Open seas tended to be windy no matter the weather.
Feeling bold today, I had decided to leave my cane in my room.
This last week I had begun getting used to walking around the squadron ships without it. While I had been having some aching after taking the prosthetic off for the night, I found it wasn't as serious as I expected it to be, but I was still weary of stairs and ladders.
But despite that issue, I wasn't going to let that ruin my excitement for the day. After all it wasn't often you got to go aboard a battleship and watch its guns fire away at practice targets.
But that was where the fun part ended, what I had to do now was the… awkward part.
Resting in the water while she was moored to the pier was the large hulking form of the battleship USS Pennsylvania in all her glory and might.
She was painted a medium dark blue for the most part, save for the top half of her watch tower mast that was painted a gray-white. On one of its many signal lines flew her namesake Union state flag which she was gifted to be her personal colors, on another flew the blue and white striped flag of the UNDF with a silver UN symbol resting atop a golden anchor.
She really did look every bit like one would expect a battleship to look like. Strong and fortified, like a mighty castle that would take an entire army to conquer.
And this was the hull I just so happen to choose as my ride out to the exercise location.
While I could have gone along with any of the others, save for Eldridge who was having electrical issues on her hull again, I couldn't really help but pick the ship with the biggest guns.
Call it a childish notion, but I had never served on a ship with such firepower, and I couldn't help but be excited to see her in action. Back when I was a kid, I remember watching the large warships sail into the bay area and dreamed of one day being aboard one as they fired off a salvo into the distance.
Sadly by the time I had joined the Union Navy, the idea of large ships with big guns were going out of style in favor of smaller and faster attack ships and larger aircraft carriers, so the opportunity to be aboard a battleship now was a dream come true and I was giddy with excitement.
But my excitement became strained after arriving at the dock and seeing that the ship didn't look ready at all to sail out, by that I mean I had expected her to have various crews loading her ammunition and fuel, but instead all the crates and fuel lines remained unattended on the pier.
From what information I had gathered of how kansen hulls operate, they still need the basic essentials for an operation loaded into her holds and magazines.
Such tasks took time and it was better to start sooner rather than later; yet with only less than an hour prior to the scheduled departure time, the Pennsylvania was deserted of any preparations.
Glancing around I saw a few groups of local dock workers that weren't paying the ship any attention, just standing around the ammo crates and fuel lines as if they were waiting for something, and I began to wonder if Pennsylvania was even onboard at all.
I had tried to talk with the workers about what the hold up was, but they apparently only spoke Portuguese so that didn't get me anywhere.
"Guess there's one way to find out." I muttered as I walked up the gangplank, hesitating for a moment before taking that last step onto the ship after remembering some advice I had received from Admiral Puttnam himself that it was best to be respectful when boarding a boat that happens to have a manifested consciousness.
"To a kansen, their ship is their private dwelling, it is then customary to ask permission to enter like you would if you were going into someone's house."
"Um… Permission to come aboard?" I asked loudly, but again, no answer save for some laughter from behind me.
Glancing back at the dock workers, a few of them were chuckling in my direction, hinting they knew something I didn't.
I swallowed my small feeling of embarrassment and threw caution to the wind as I stepped aboard while praying that the rumor that a kansen could feel every part of their hull like it was their own body was not true, otherwise I was basically a bug crawling on someone's skin.
"Pennsylvania, are you there?" I called out, still no answer.
After spending another fifteen minutes aimlessly walking about and calling around for the kansen woman, I managed to find an open hatch into the hulls top superstructure, and through it I walked around for a little longer. Eventually I made it to where I thought the captain's cabin might be, but I was beginning to get all turned around.
I started to think I might need to get Kirov to help me find her like the captain had suggested, that is until my attention was drawn to the sound of the hatch behind me clicking and I watched it open up to reveal a sight I was… not expecting.
Standing in the door was not the strong and intimidating form of the Union kansen, but a young man in shriveled civilian clothes.
He looked to be in his younger twenties but still had a charming boyish looking face with short curly hair and light caramel skin that was covered in dried sweat like an athlete after a workout.
He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him and for a second I thought him to be a looter or something, that is until a voice behind him spoke up.
"Eduardo, algo está errado?" The voice was a woman's, smooth and soft, it spoke in Portuguese but held a noticeable Union English accent and it was strikingly familiar.
As the young man, who I guessed was named Eduardo, looked back behind himself he revealed the owner of the voice only to show me an even more surprising sight that I definitely was not expecting to see.
Sitting on a small mattress bed with its blankets crumpled to one side or another, wearing only a half tied blue robe that showed quite a bit of her chest cleavage and framed her body incredibly well was none other than Pennsylvania.
She sat with one of her bare long legs folded over the other and was combing her disheveled hair back into its usual fluency. From the sunlight of a nearby porthole, I saw that her creamy white scarred skin also had a shine to it from dried sweat, just like the young man did.
It was then that I noticed the smell coming from the room, a heavy scent of sweat of a variety only made after a lengthy time of intimacy, with that and the two's current state of dress (or lack of), it was incredibly obvious what had taken place here.
…And I had no real idea what to think of it.
This is her habit!? Suddenly it made sense why the captain hadn't talked about it too deeply.
Pennsylvania, after looking a little surprised herself at my presence, merely became annoyed upon seeing me standing at her door. Her brows furrowed as she groaned and went back to combing her hair more aggressively than she had been before.
"And just why the hell are you on my ship?" she asked.
"I…" I stuttered as I looked away from her, "I was wondering why you weren't getting ready to go. We have an exercise today-"
"I know, but that doesn't mean you can just waltz onto my ship like you own the place. Besides, we aren't sailing out until 0900, I've still got a few hours left to work with so just about-face and fuck off." she commanded, and I had to admit it wasn't easy not to follow her orders.
"But it's already 0842." I said, pointing out how very little time she actually had to work with.
Pennsylvania's eyes widened and she quickly looked around the room until her eyes landed on a fallen alarm clock that rested face down on the floor, quickly grabbing it up, she swore a list of curses that would have made an old sailor proud.
"Ugh, fine! Just have the squadron leave ahead of me and I'll catch up as soon as I'm ready." she said as she rose from her bed and walked to the door to stand next to the man she had spent the night with who'd been glancing back and forth as the tension of the room heightened and all he probably wanted to do was leave.
"Está tudo bem, eu cuido dele. Obrigado pela linda noite." she spoke calmly to Eduardo, touching his cheek with her hand while she gave the other a quick kiss. He smiled and nodded with a deep blush, but then gave me a look with a glance down the hallway.
Guessing that she was telling the young man he may leave, I stepped aside to allow him to go, having no idea what to do with him if I made him stay or whether I even had the authority to hold him.
After he gave the kansen woman one last affectionate look, he quickly made his way past me and down the corridor, seeming to know the way out fairly well already.
Looking back at Pennsylvania, I gave her the most blank look I could muster while also trying my best to avoid giving her lower body a closer glance now that she was standing right in front of me.
Seeing her closer than I ever had before, her beauty was undeniable even in such an awkward situation, yet her skin still bore those same scars I had seen on her before, only now I saw she had a few on her chest and legs too.
"Chm, chm." Pennsylvania grunted, bringing my wandering eyes back to hers.
She simply looked back at me with an annoyed look and her arms crossed over her still half tied robe, no doubt expecting me to leave as well.
"I'll just…head back up and wait for you then." I said, deciding it was best to be discreet in this situation.
"If you were hoping for a ride out, you'll have to jump ship, I sail solo." she stated, unknowingly crushing my childhood dreams, but with her so close, my nose caught the scent of alcohol on her breath.
A night of sex and drinking? I thought to myself, my opinion of the battleship getting lower the more disrespect and attitude she presented to me.
Guess it's time to draw the line.
"That's fine, but the fleet will wait on you." I said, choosing to hold her accountable for her actions, and by the look she was giving me I was definitely digging my grave deeper with her.
"Don't waste their time, I'll be less than an hour behind them so just go ahead without me, you can bring this up with Captain Augustus if you want but it'll be easier for everyone if you just let this go." she said, her glare getting even more serious and her tone was stern and unyielding.
"You are their flagship, the squadron moves when you move. So the faster you're ready, the sooner we'll head out." I stated, hoping my strategy worked.
I had served under a variety of officers throughout my career. The friendly one's were easy to get along with but often let their crews get away with a lot of things they shouldn't. Then there were the ones who would be called the 'hard asses' who put a heavy emphasis on discipline and efficiency.
Both styles had their negatives. But then there were those rare few who somehow balanced in between the two, and that was what I was aiming for. To be firm and resolute while maintaining a feeling of trust and camaraderie with my subordinates.
There were going to be times when I could allow a certain level of flexibility on discipline, and then there were times when the hard line must be towed. This situation, I had decided, required the latter of the two options.
Of course, this decision had now earned me the ire of the most powerful woman in the squadron who I half expected to slug me in my face then throw me overboard, no doubt she could do that and more if she wished to, her glare hinted that much.
"Get. Off. My. Ship." she ordered through clenched teeth, then slammed her hatch in my face with far more force than I expected to be given by a woman of her stature, but considering she was a kansen I supposed the act wasn't too surprising.
Deciding that there was no further point in standing outside of her door, I turned down the hall and made for the top deck. On my way I began thinking of a way to work this issue out now before it got any worse.
If I remembered right, the captain had said we didn't need a full stock of fuel on each ship for this exercise. But that didn't mean we couldn't have a full stock of fuel.
—
I waited on the dock for just over half an hour before I finally heard the clicks of shoes make their way over to me on the gangplank. Glancing over, I saw Pennsylvania had cleaned herself up well for the day.
She now looked just as she did when I first met her, wearing a blue short-sleeve buttoned uniform shirt and matching skirt. Her skin no longer had that same glistening look to it from before and I could smell the faint scent of lavender soap from her shower.
In her hand was a white mug of coffee she sipped as she stopped next to me, her face still holding a glare that I began to fear might be permanent.
Seeing her now, despite her sour demeanor, I once again couldn't help but find her simple beauty to be both attractive yet still hard to look at. She reminded me a lot of someone else, someone I'd lost…
She took a long sip before she finally addressed me with that same harsh tone as before.
"Alright, I get the whole 'making everyone wait on me' tactic. But if you're going to start berating me on how inappropriate I am or how I violated some regulation or some other bullshit, save it until I finish my coffee at least." she said, leaning her back against a guard railing and continued sipping away.
Before I could say anything in return, a whistle drew both of our attention and I saw one of the dockyard workers I tried to talk with before waving his hand to us.
"Estás pronto?" he shouted out, to which Pennsylvania raised her arm and gave him a thumbs up in answer to the question.
The worker merely nodded and began ordering others nearby who got to work quickly, boarding the battleship and working the onboard cranes as they began to load the battleship with her needed supplies and hooking the fuel cables up to her tanks.
Watching them go about their duties, I admired the efficiency they showed in their tasks. Considering Lisbon was the largest port in Portugal, I imagined loading and unloading cargo and supplies was well mastered here.
At the same time, the fact that they had waited for Pennsylvania to give them the go ahead showed they were used to waiting on her. Either that or they felt it was inappropriate to start loading her hull up without her permission, if so I had to give them credit for being respectful.
"Okay." Pennsylvania said as she turned to face me and waved her empty mug on a single finger, "Go on then, berate away."
Despite her irritation towards me, she remained relatively calm about her situation and didn't seem worried at all that I had found out in the first place. Most would think she ought to be panicking or coming up with excuses, yet she seemed so dismissive of any worry.
"As a veteran and a battle survivor, I trust you to not make quick judgments." the captain's words started to make sense after seeing Pennsylvania's chosen… habits. Remembering back at what I read on her file also helped connect a few of the dots too.
The battleship was a distinguished veteran of over a dozen large scale engagements with the enemy during the war, and each time she would end up limping back to drydock after receiving too much damage in battle, but always seemed to be ready and present for the next mission whether she was officially cleared for it or not.
Such drive and determination was exemplary for a battleship such as herself, but through all the glory and embellishment, I could see she had an intense and near obsessive need to protect her friends.
Perhaps owing to the loss of her sister, Arizona. I thought, remembering what I had briefly read about Pennsylvania's sister ship and how she and many others were lost after the first Siren attack on the Union in Pearl Harbor.
A loss of someone so close would always leave scars on one's mind, and lead them into decisions that would otherwise be considered unwise.
And now after years of one battle after another and seeing more of her friends die horrible deaths… I really wasn't surprised she turned out like this. I had seen it before after all.
Back during my months in recovery after surviving the loss of the Barry and soon learning of… my own personal losses, I had seen and experienced how taxing war and death could be on soldiers and sailors; more specifically, I knew how they chose to cope with their pain.
Most turned to alcohol and drugs as the most common methods of dealing with their grief, but there were some who turned to more intimate approaches for relief.
I personally held nothing against anyone who chose to part-take in sexual relations just for the sake of it. Sex, if done correctly, was a very pleasing and passionate form of relief so long as all participants agreed to it of their own volition.
Sadly not everyone accepted no for an answer, which led me to asking my first question to the woman before me.
"Was it consensual?" I asked, my eyes were carefully watching her and how she answered.
"Tch! Of course that would be your first question." she muttered with a role of her eyes before looking back at me. "Yes it was, we both knew what we were doing, and we both agreed to it. No money exchanged, no favors promised, it was just sex. Nothing more."
While I was no expert in reading someone, I saw no obvious signs she was lying to me.
Still, I can't be certain of her just yet. Perhaps I should talk to Captain Augustus about this, since she is already aware of the issue.
Before either of us could ask or say anything further to each other, the sound of a motor engine turned both our attention to the part of the docks where the warehouse storage for the squadron was located, driving up to us was an old topless green jeep with three persons seated in it.
Once it got close enough I saw it was Senior Chief Kyle, the senior enlisted of the squadron who the captain had placed in charge of unloading the docks this morning.
"Oh, fuck. Not this ass." I heard Pennsylvania mutter as the jeep parked near us and Kyle hopped out, an annoyed look of his own greeting us.
"Commander Ford," he said with a salute which I returned, then he glanced at Pennsylvania with a look I could only say was leery.
"Something I can help you with, Chief?" I asked.
"Just curious sir, the squadron was supposed to be out of the bay by now, is there some sort of… hold up?" His eyes briefly glanced at Pennsylvania implying his assertion as to the cause of the issue.
Pennsylvania, surprisingly, shrank away from the chief's gaze as her arms folded more inward on herself and she turned herself away from the man, going from the annoyed hot head I was dealing with before to having a rather shy and nervous demeanor.
What happened to all that attitude? I thought, before I looked back at the senior chief.
The two of us had only met a few times in the last few days while I had been going through my introduction into the squadron.
Senior Chief Petty Officer Tyler Kyle was in charge of supply among the squadron but had a long history of service during the war serving in the Pacific theater with the Royal Australian Navy.
The man had a very intimidating physique, standing somewhere above six feet and having an upper body frame that was built from years working within the supply corps of the navy that was a very physically demanding occupation. His skin, though caucassion, was well tanned and his voice possessed a slight gurgle to his Australian accent, but it was no less clear or intimidating.
"It's nothing chief, just a small last minute change in the supply orders. We should be headed out within the hour." I said, getting an annoyed look from Kyle, and a confused one from Pennsylvania that I noticed out of the corner of my eye.
"I wasn't made aware of any changes, sir." he said.
"My apologies for that, but it's just filling up on our fuel reserves, we were going to head out at half tanks for all ships, but I decided to have them top off on the chance we need extra time out there." I replied.
Kyle's brow raised, probably thinking the change somewhat odd, but it was technically regulation that all ships leave port with full fuel capacity.
At least, that's what it is in the Union.
"I see… I can understand your mistake in not informing me since you're still new to the squadron. But you see commander, with fuel being somewhat difficult for the Defense Fleet to supply as abundantly as the other navy's, it's preferred we be more conservative of our fuel reserves." he explained.
"Really? I guess I must have missed that in a briefing somewhere, they kind of info-dumbed so much on me back in Dublin, I'll have to dive back into it all once I'm back from the exercise. Sorry if I caused a mess for you." I said, hoping my small lie was believable.
"No, it's alright sir. If you have any questions in the future, just ask away." Kyle said as he waved off my apology, his tone had become more respectful after hearing me out, but he was probably thinking me as somewhat incompetent for making such a rookie error.
"Thank you chief, I'll see you for the evening briefing." I said, offering my hand and hoping he takes it as a sign to leave.
"Yes sir, pleasant sailing." he said, returning my shake. He gave one last look to Pennsylvania, who remained facing away from him, then got back in his jeep and drove away.
After a few awkward minutes passed of us watching the workers continue to load the ship up, I looked back to Pennsylvania only to see her looking back at me, her previously shy attitude gone.
"...Did you change the fuel load order before or after I sent you off my ship?" she asked, her eyes returned to her permanent glare, but there was less hatred in them than before.
"If I said it was before, would that make things better between us?" I asked, extending a metaphorical olive branch.
"I… suppose it might." she said as she shifted back to leaning against the railing.
"Alright then. Well, I'm going to go make sure the rest of the squadron is informed of the changes. Be ready to go when I get back." I instructed her, while also hoping the rest of the squadron didn't make too big of a deal over this.
Pennsylvania gave no verbal acknowledgment of my order, but neither did she give any condescension to it. Whether her silence was out of a newfound respect or simple dismissal of me I couldn't say, either way I decided it was an improvement.
As I left I did my best to look ignorant of the two young destroyers that were hiding behind one of Pennsylvania's secondary turrets, and the little periscope that watched me from the water blow, and especially of the matured snow haired cruiser whose golden eyes followed my movements down the docks.
All of these observers would probably be watching me like a hawk for many more weeks to come, wondering what type of commander I would end up being to them. I could understand their caution, but they could have at least made their observations a little less obvious.
It's only morning, and this might already end up being a long day.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The thundering of Kirov's guns muted everything imaginable as the salvos rocketed out of their barrels followed by the raging inferno of the powder blast that powered the shell's high velocity out of the barrel and through the air.
Recovering from the blast, I straightened myself and brought up the binoculars to spot the splashes of the rounds. It was an interesting thing, being next to such a powerful weapon as it fired but then having to wait as the shot fought off the laws of gravity, physics, and wind to hit where it was meant to.
It was only a few seconds later when I was greeted with the expected splashdown of the shot as it struck the water surface five hundred meters away… sadly missing its intended target buoy, but only by a marginal amount. Had it been a full sized ship turned broadside, there would have been no doubt she would have hit it… probably.
"Missed by about five meter-" BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
I flinched as suddenly Kirov fired another barrage, the unexpected blast ringing through my ears and teeth, before I could address the lack of warning on her part, she just went and fired again!
It wasn't until three full salvo's later that she finally seemed to be satisfied and finished blasting away.
As I recovered from the repeating concussive explosions, I glanced back up to see the proud kansen standing atop her second turret with the smoke from its barrels still blowing around her figure. Her hands were clenched but rested smugly on her hips with her long white hair and newly adorned white cape fluttering in the breeze. Her face was set in a firm smile and hard set eyes that threatened to invigorate my own attitude despite the suddenness of her broadside musketry.
It's no wonder she was dubbed the pride of the Northern Parliament, she certainly looked the part. I thought, remembering what I had read about her and her accomplishments.
After I had arrived at the designated AO aboard Atlanta's hull, I had started watching the squadron go in turns as they took aim and shot away at their targets. Since this was my first time seeing them all at work, I had decided to go from ship to ship and observe how they went about aiming and firing.
Most had done fairly well overall, with the highest accuracy coming from Pennsylvania and her large fourteen inch guns whose broadside had taken out the target after only two volleys.
Now it was Kirov's turn, she was the second to last one in the squadron to fire, and she apparently was the type of person who didn't accept a failing grade easily. Glancing back out at the target through my bino's, all that seemed left of it was a few pieces of debris.
The target had originally been basically a large billboard afloat atop several connected buoys, it was considered a passing grade if she had made one hit, but after her intense assault of multiple volley's, only one single buoy remained floating.
I wonder if all the rest of Northern Parliament is as intense as Kirov is? I thought as I turned back to the cruiser and saw she was looking back at me with that same look on her face.
"I… think you got it." I spoke, giving her a flat look. "But did you really have to go all out like that?"
"Da! Of course I did, comrade commander! For a cruiser like myself, our kills often require more than one shot to put down. Does it not make perfect sense to practice like we fight?." spoke Kirov.
"Sure, I guess that works. But still, try to give me a warning next time at least. This is just a zeroing exercise, there's no need for overkill." my statement was met only with a hearty laugh.
"There is no such thing as overkill, comrade commander!" Kirov proudly announced. Seeing no point in arguing, I relented to the cruiser's logic; half because she wasn't wrong per say, the other because I liked her style.
Despite Kirov's intimidating persona and the possibility of being a bit of a handful in battle, I was relieved to have her with us in an odd sort of way. While overly passionate people like her may be difficult at the best of times, they are often the ones you look to for help at the worst of times.
"I gotta say Kirov, you certainly have the right attitude. I look forward to seeing what you can do in a real fight." I said as I wrote down her results on the paperwork I had to write up for this exercise.
One of the downsides to promotions was always more paperwork.
As I wrote, Kirov hopped off from the top of her turret and joined me on her pilot bridge. She entered and went to her coffee kettle to pour herself a cup of her own personal brew. After boarding her hull, she immediately insisted I try it.
I would never call myself a connoisseur of such drinks, but I had to admit Kirov knew how to make a good brew of coffee. After telling her of my approval for the warm drink, she went on for a time explaining how she had concocted the recipe together with a fellow coffee enthusiast (or perhaps a rival of some kind) from the Ironblood named Mainz.
"Da, I too am excited to demonstrate my full potential to you, I swear you will not be disappointed." she said as she filled her mug then came to stand near me as we entered into a calm silence as I made sure not to make any mistakes on the papers.
"If you do not mind, may I ask you a question, comrade commander?" I looked over to see that her expression had become curious as she took a sip of her drink.
I had suspected she might have questions for me, just like the rest of the squadron kansen who all had asked their own questions that they hadn't thought of the night we met. So for the majority of this exercise, whenever they hadn't been shooting, each kansen had asked their own questions of me, some having more variety than others (cough-Eskimo-cough).
They all were pretty much the same: where I'd come from, what were my future plans, and what my favorite foods were, etc... Simple questions that I didn't mind answering and I'd asked them the same in return.
So far I appeared to be doing quite well in getting along with the kansens, which had been the biggest worry of mine after getting posted here.
Although I still haven't talked with U556 yet, how am I gonna go about that? I thought absently to myself before answering her.
"Shoot." I said as I completed her zero sheet and started writing up one for Chaser.
"I saw that you found out about Penny and her nightly -how do you say it- indulgences. What do you plan to do about that?" she asked.
The question was far from the ones I had expected from her. Looking back up at Kirov, her arms were folded over her chest with one still holding her mug as she looked at me expectantly. But there was no nervousness or hesitation in her words, she had asked the question like someone would ask about the weather or time of day.
"For the moment, nothing except a warning I guess." I said, earning a raised brow.
"Just a warning you say, why not more? Surely her actions were inappropriate?" she asked, and I began to wonder if Kirov had a nosey side to her.
"Well aside from being late, she's broken no regulation that I am aware of. She was off duty last night and said there was no money exchanged, as far as I am concerned she simply needs to keep a better track of time." I said as I completed writing up Chaser's paper and folded it away for later use before I looked back up at the Northern Parliament woman as she replied.
"Interesting, you give a lot of trust towards a woman you only just met, and what of the decision to give us additional fuel that also happened to push the time table for the morning exercise back? Rather convenient that it allowed Penny the time she needed to prepare." Kirov pointed out with a small smirk on her lips, showing a bit of teasing in her tone.
"Well I…" Actually I didn't have a good enough excuse made up yet other than that it made sense at the time. "Just take what you will from that. But my job is to look out for you girls, I admit I wasn't expecting to start off so quickly, but I worked with what I had."
"I see, so if the rest of the squadron chose to part-take in such things, you would not find issue so long as we remained ready for orders?" she asked as she leaned forward on one of the windows, her revealing chest becoming ten times more noticeable than it already was and her tone becoming even more teasing.
"I guess so but- wait, don't tell me all of the other girls are doing that too?"
If it were any of the matured kansen I wouldn't have so much of an issue with it, but the younger destroyers… I felt that was a little too far. They may be veteran warships, but they still looked and acted like young children!
My worry, however, was interrupted by Kirov's laughing.
"Ha ha ha! Oh you should see your face, I wish I had one of those portable cameras!" Kirov laughed a little longer before she finally controlled herself. "Rest easy comrade commander, the little ones are kept safe enough. Though I have heard that Z23 is engaged to a young boy back in Germany."
"I see, that's a relief at least." I breathed a sigh of relief, and took a long drink from my own mug of coffee and relished in the slightly bitter mocha taste.
Honestly, is this what I would have dealt with if my own child had reached a matured age? How frightening. I thought to myself, but then felt a prick of grief and figured perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if she had.
"But since we are on the subject, what might your relationship status be, comrade commander?" Kirov bluntly asked, and suddenly my throat found it hard to swallow my drink and I coughed out trying to clear it up.
Looking back at Kirov, she was still leaning against the window frame looking rather smug with herself at once again catching me off guard.
"I'm…well I'm…" I stuttered out, then glanced at my ring finger that was more than obvious in the sunlight and I wondered why she would bother with such a question.
"… I'm… not interested in looking for anything. Why?"
Her smile weakened as she peaked a brow and then glanced down at my ring.
"You wear a ring band that tells me you are obviously already promised to another, but in my experience not all follow such promises. Do you?" she asked, her face remained relaxed but her eyes were heavily watching my own.
"I do, but…" I responded, a feeling of grief surfacing once again and I wished she would drop the subject..
"But what?" she continued, her eyes never yielding from mine as she looked at me with an icy stare.
Silence was all that filled the air as she waited for my answer. I tried my best to keep my gaze with her, but I faltered and looked away as I struggled to keep the harsh feeling of anguish down.
"My wife… passed away." I answered, seeming to have surprised her, that is if her face's reaction could be trusted.
My gaze looked out to the shining sea that beautifully glistened in the afternoon sun, a sharp contrast to the sad mood the conversation had now sunken to.
"I see… then I must apologize." Kirov spoke in a soft tone, glancing back I saw her arms had moved down to her lower stomach with her hands together, her face had lost its stone look in favor of her regret.
"My words were harsh and undeserving, I didn't mean to insult you or your wife if you feel as though I have. Please forgive me, comrade commander." she said, then bowed slightly in apology.
"It's alright." I said, wiping my face in an attempt to stop any notice of my watering eyes.
"Net, it is certainly not alright, I have overstepped. I only asked such things because I was worried for the others and I didn't trust you enough. But I-"
"I know Kirov." I said, interrupting her. "I know what you meant. You're a good friend to them, and I hope I can earn the same loyalty you show to the rest of the squadron one day."
I already knew why she and the rest of the squadron were cautious of me, they were right to be.
The Defense Fleet had gone through more than a few scandals lately where officers were found to be suspected of inappropriate relations with their kansen, so it made sense that Kirov would be protective of her own squadron.
An awkward silence returned to the bridge, and before either of us could say more, the radio squawked.
"Commander Ford, this is Chaser, can you hear me?"
I glanced at Kirov who nodded for me to answer and I picked up the receiver on the radio equipment.
"This is Ford, go ahead, Chaser." I replied.
"Afternoon sir, I am ready to receive you whenever you are ready."
"Understood, I'll be heading your way aboard the Kirov. See you soon."
"Very good then commander, Chaser out." the line ended and I looked back to Kirov.
The cruiser kansen simply nodded again and we both fell back into the same awkward silence as she willed her ship over to Chasers.
Hopefully the two of us could go back to the relaxed attitude we had been having before the touchy topic of fraternizing got brought up; I hoped we could, regardless of her intimidating beauty, Kirov was actually quite a lot of fun to talk with.
That aside, I took great interest as I watched the strange scene inside Kirov's pilot house as various levers and instruments began moving all on their own, even the steering wheel looked possessed as it corrected one course turn to another. All while the kansen woman remained away from the controls and looked like she was simply in deep thought.
Kansen really are strange and wondrous beings. I thought to myself while fighting off the urge to re-enter a conversation with her about how it felt to move such a large craft with just her mind. The mood simply didn't feel appropriate.
As we pulled up, Kirov and Chaser demonstrated amazing mastery in controlling their hulls as they were able to keep a firm course alongside each other.
Once they were satisfied with their placement, they connected their hulls together with a stretchable line with a retractable swing seat attached to it.
This was the basic and fastest way to transfer personnel and supplies from one ship to the other at sea without the hulls coming into direct contact which was a dangerous idea on the open sea. The first time I rode on the swing between ships was very entertaining… at least it was for those who got to watch as I gripped the rigging for dear life.
As I placed my papers and other items in a pouch attached to the seat, I heard Kirov walk up next to me and clear her throat.
"Commander Ford," I turned and straightened to listen to her proudly state her words, but saw that she actually looked a bit awkward compared to her usual proud demeanor, "I apologize again for my bluntness and… I want you to know that, in the past, I too lost people who were precious to me; many of us here in the squadron have suffered the same pain so, if you ever wish to talk of it, I would be willing to listen."
Surprising me with her words, I didn't answer for a few seconds, but I quickly relaxed with a smile in gratitude.
"I appreciate the offer Kirov, and the same goes for any of you. My door is always open if you need help with anything." I replied, and offered my hand.
She didn't seem to understand the gesture at first, but after figuring out I was offering my hand to shake, she smiled kindly and took my hand in her own. After our little moment of friendliness, I stepped back and saluted her.
"Permission to disembark, ma'am?" I asked and her eyes brightened in appreciation for my courtesy towards her and her ship, she quickly snapped a salute back.
"Razresheniye polucheno, I'll see you back in port, comrade commander." With that, I strapped into the seat as best I could and tugged the line three times to signal I was ready, then off I went from the deck of the cruiser over the breezy waters between the hulls.
After the fun ride on the seat was over and I was now safely aboard the escort carrier, I was met with Chaser herself who looked as proper and elegant as before. Showing her the same courtesy I had with Kirov and the others, I gave a salute in greeting and requested permission to board.
Chaser, though she hid it better than the others, also seemed unprepared for such a greeting but happily granted my request along with a returned salute.
"Welcome aboard sir, I have a full squadron of HE bomb equipped interceptors on deck ready to go." she said as we both relaxed.
"Perfect, let's head up to your bridge tower and then you can send them off." I said after retrieving my things. With a small curtsy, she led me through her hull to where I would watch as her aircraft got to work.
"How was Kirov? I hope she didn't intimidate you too harshly." Chaser spoke, reminding me of the discussion I had just had with the Northern Parliament cruiser.
"She wasn't too bad I guess, her aim could use some work but she is certainly thorough, this squadron is very lucky to have a woman like her watching your backs." I said, with Chaser nodding in agreement.
"Yes, it's actually one of the reasons why I stayed in the Defense Fleet after the war, the unspoken golden rule that no matter what happens we will always protect one another. I only wish the other navies followed such philosophies." she said.
"I'd like to say the Union works the same way, but sadly that would make me a liar, I think it depends more on the circumstance of the situation. This squadron has been together a long time and fought in many battles, which has a way of creating lasting bonds with each other. How does the Royal Navy compare?" I asked out of curiosity for the unofficial rival to the Union Navy.
"The Royals are, well…" Chaser seemed hard pressed to find the right words to describe her home navy, "No, I would have to say they do not really work like that most of the time."
"Then how do they work? If you don't mind me asking." I asked, imagining I was chipping at the tip of an iceberg.
"Not at all. If I were to describe them in one word, it would be: …Traditional." The frown on Chaser's face as she said this told me there was more to that story, but before I asked further, we came to my worst enemy as of late.
"Stairs." I said as I looked up at them and saw that they zig-zagged up probably all the way to the bridge.
My leg is not going to like this. I thought, now wishing I had brought my cane after all.
But then I saw Chaser hold out her arm, a kind smile adorning her face.
"May I help you climb up, commander." she asked. I couldn't help but sigh, both in relief for her offer and embarrassment for needing it in the first place.
"The honor is mine, my lady." I joked, causing both of us to laugh at the situation.
As we climbed up the stairs, she was polite enough to not say anything towards my leg and instead distracted me with facts on her aircraft's abilities and such. Once we reached the top, she got her planes started and off they flew towards the targets in the distance.
It was nearing evening time upon our return to the docks, yet something seemed to have happened while I was away.
The entire port had a tense air to it, several cargo ships that had been about to leave port were turning around, and from my binoculars the city's defenses were being brought on alert. A flight of local military fighters zoomed overhead as they observed the squadron for a minute then turned away down the coastline.
"Do you know what's going on, Chaser." I asked, she shook her head but I saw in her eyes that she might have an idea, but before I could ask her more the radio squawked.
"Commander Ford, this is Lt. Commander Howell. How copy? Over."
It was the voice of the escort ship Danube's CO, Lieutenant Commander George Howell. Like myself, he was former Union Navy, but he had been serving in the Defense Fleet much longer than I. Grabbing Chaser's radio, I hit the talk button to respond.
"Howell, this is Ford, good copy. What's the sitrep? Over." I asked.
"Wish I had better news for you sir. Third Squadron is being mobilized, the captain wants you to get the kansen's to the docks for resupply and full rearmement, then head up to the Matterhorn for her briefing. Over"
I took a full second to process what I was told, the suddenness of it all throwing my brain for a loop with questions such as why, where, and who. A glance to Chaser showed she shared my questions, but she was looking to me for the answers, and that's what made my mind focus.
You're their commander, start commanding.
"Understood, is Senior Chief Kyle still coordinating with the docks?" I asked, formulating a 'to do' list.
"Yes sir, channel eight."
"Thank you, tell the captain I'll get to her as soon as I get the squadron situated."
"Copy that, Howell out."
From there I got in contact with Chief Kyle. After making sure each kansen ship got to the correct dock, I disembarked from Chaser and left Pennsylvania incharge of the girls until I got back from meeting with the captain.
Onboard the Matterhorn, everyone was busy at their tasks and I had to be careful weaving my way over to the CIC room where I knew the captain would be, but on my way there I happened to run into Warrant Officer Baker in the halls.
She was a little messy from working in the hangar bay, but otherwise looked no worse for wear.
"Baker, what's the word? Do you know why we are being mobilized?" I asked.
"You weren't told yet? Apparently a small convoy of British merchant ships came under attack an hour ago just a few kilometers east of the Azores Islands. They're sending us out to help find them." she said, then she had to leave to see to her own duties.
After quickly thanking her I doubled my efforts to find the Captain and get the full picture from her, while also trying my best to keep my anxiousness down. Now was not the time to worry, it was the time to focus and prepare.
Because whether I liked it or not, Third Squadron was mobilizing.
Next - Ch. 4: Initiations and Invitations
A/N - Yikes, that was a long chapter. If you're wondering where I'm getting inspiration for some of my character names and story themes, check out the anime titled: Legend of the Galactic Heroes - Die Neue These. If you like space operas, this is one of the best out there.
Also, I apologize if any of the foreign words and phrases I use are grammatically wrong, Google translate can only do so much.
Don't forget to comment if you like it so far.
Chapter 4: Ch. 4: An Initiation
Chapter Text
Ch. 4: Initiations
0550 hrs - April 10th, 1972
95 Kilometers East by North East of the Azores Archipelago in the Atlantic.
Ford POV
Ugh… I can't sleep.
That was the foremost thought on my mind as I laid in a small cot onboard the Eskimo after spending nearly two hours trying to catch some sleep which seemed near impossible in the damp humid air of the bunk room.
Captain Augustus had advised me to get at least a few hours of rest into my system while I could before we entered the engagement zone, but sadly my adrenaline had other ideas for me, especially with how fast the last fourteen or so hours had been.
After receiving the order to mobilize back in Lisbon, the entire squadron had loaded up and was out of the port before midnight. Since then we had been on a steady course south of the Azores Islands where the reported attack had taken place.
In the initial briefing before we left, it was explained that a convoy of six Brazilian freighters bound for Gibraltar had been intercepted and then chased off course by a small number of remnant Siren warships.
While most of the convoy had made it to the Azores, some were sadly destroyed along the way before getting close enough to where the coastal defenses of the islands managed to drive the enemy ships off and tracked them taking a southern course back into the trade lanes.
Small attacks like these were the most common in the last few years since the official end of the war, or more accurately, since the destruction of the final Siren manufacturing fortress and the defeat of the enemy's last major armada in the second battle of Leyte Gulf in 1970.
Since then, the largest Siren force to date has only numbered at only a handful of ships at a time, though it was far more common for only one vessel to start stirring up trouble. As for how many had attacked the convoy, reports range that number from one to seven so it was anyone's guess how many were actually out there.
I rubbed my eyes awake as I stood and put my blouse and shoes back on. While trying to sleep with most of my uniform and my prosthetic leg on was uncomfortable especially with the mild humidity, I dared not undress more due to the fact I was aboard a Kansens' ship and I didn't really understand how it all worked or if she could see into every room.
I'll have to ask them about that sometime. I thought, and wondered if Chaser was the better person for that question with her more mature and understanding attitude.
While I could have saved myself the trouble and posted myself on the Danube, both Captain Augustus and I wanted me to get more experience working directly with a Kansen in battle, and now was as good a time as any.
As for Eskimo's thoughts on my presence aboard her ship, she had actually been pretty excited about having me with her. So much so that she was jumping up and down her hull for over an hour after leaving port, just giddy with enthusiasm as she gave me her personal tour of her ship.
Her positive and childlike attitude, despite being a bit hard to keep up with, was actually a bit of a relief after dealing with personalities like the often pissed off Pennsylvania and the bombastic Kirov. It just felt nice being around such a friendly presence.
Atlanta and Z23 had shown no real interest in having me aboard them, but neither did they seem to be opposed to the idea; Eldridge had recommended I not travel with her unless I wanted to suffer through random shocks from her hull, and U556 had still yet to breathe a word to me so I figured she was not an option at the moment either.
As I stepped out of my cabin, I tried to remember the right way to the galley for some coffee, but then I wondered if Eskimo even had coffee aboard. The idea of the energetic girl having access to caffeine was a scary thought.
Should have brought a thermos. I berated myself as I turned towards the bridge instead.
Opening the outer hatch onto the deck, I was greeted with a blast of thick sea air and a sprinkle of salt water on my face. It was early in the day and the sun had yet to even peak over the horizon, but the lighter night sky to the East foretold its arrival.
Despite the darkness, I could still make out a few white caps of the waves as the small Tribal class destroyer cut its way through the water like a knife through butter. Looking ahead, I tried to spot Chaser's carrier ahead of us, the outline was barely visible amongst the dark waves.
The entire squadron had formed a long spear formation on a compass course of one-two-zero East by South-East, as we entered the estimated battle zone south of the Azores with the lead elements consisting of U556 who was far ahead acting as a scout, then there was Kirov as the spear tip backed by Pennsylvania behind her with Z23 and Eldridge flanking both of the battlewagon's sides.
That was the forward element, the rear element where I was stationed was about five kilometers or more behind them and consisted of a single ship line with the Danube leading, Chaser's carrier in the middle, and trailing as the last ship of the formation was Eskimo.
The plan of action was for the forward element to be the hunters of the pack while Chaser's carrier provided air support from the rear element. The Danube and Eskimo were assigned as escorts for the carrier in the event one of the enemy ships flanked the forward unit.
Captain Augustus was commanding the operation from the Pennsylvania's CIC room while I was assigned to command the rear guard units. It was a fitting position for me since I was still anxious to prove myself, yet was relieved that the captain was easing me into my role as executive officer.
At least I hope that was her intention for sticking me as the rear guard.. I thought as I stepped up to the open bridge hatch, the room was a very small compartment that looked barely big enough to fit six bodies in it and I had to remind myself not to panic at the fact it was unoccupied by a crew despite the small ship going at a steady pace of nineteen knots.
Every station was vacant yet seemed active all the same with the helm wheel making small course adjustments on its own, it gave the whole ship a ghostly feel to it.
More so since the ship's Kansen was not present either.
I know they can control their ship from almost anywhere on it but where else could she be? I thought, wondering if Eskimo was perhaps on a bathroom break or even getting some sleep herself.
"HI-YA Commander!" a loud Scottish voice spoke from behind me, making me jump and nearly hitting my head on the bridge hatch.
Looking back I saw the fun-loving prankster smiling happily at my reaction to her surprise. Her red coat's white fur trim blowing in the breeze of the sea and her spectacled face laughing away at my expense.
"Ha ha ha! I love it when they jump!" she spoke, her laughter bringing a new life to the ship, brightening it and at the same time relieving a little of my stress despite my embarrassment.
"Y-yeah, you certainly got me good there." I admitted, still catching my breath from her scare. In all fairness, I had been given due warnings about Eskimo's habit of pranking people and I was starting to see why I was given so many apologetic looks when I boarded.
"Sure did! So, whatcha need sir? I thought you'd be asleep for a little longer?" she asked, her smile still a blaze on her face.
"I was just going to ask if you've got any coffee aboard?" I asked.
"Nah, Kirov says I'm not allowed to have coffee. Something' about me having all the energy I'll ever need already." Eskimo said as she leaned back and forth in tune with the rocking of her ship in the waves.
"I see… well that makes sense I guess." I whispered that last part as my spirit dropped at the absence of the precious sustenance, but also feeling some small relief that she was not allowed to it.
"But I got some tea I can whip up for you along with some sandwiches. How about that?" she asked and I accepted the offer, thinking it was better than nothing.
As we walked down to her galley, I asked how things were going so far for the operation.
"It's alright. But the river-boat broke her radar again, hopefully they fix it pretty soon before we run into those Sirens." Eskimo spoke as she skipped into her hull.
"River-boat?" I asked.
"Hm? Oh! Sorry, that's what I call the Danube." she said.
"Why?"
"Well, all crewed ships in the Defense Fleet are either named after mountains or rivers, so I like to call them river-boats or hill-boats, because some of their names are hard to say and it just sounds funnier!" Eskimo explained with a grin and a skip through a hatch.
"I guess that works." I said as we finally entered the ship's small galley and Eskimo got a kettle started then began fishing out some tea for us. "Have you been up all night?"
"No, I took a little nap in my own room for a while, then I heard you getting up and thought it would be fun to surprise you!" she explained as she prepped the tea leaves then sat down as we waited for the kettle.
"And you succeeded, but tell me more about the Danube's radar issue. I thought they worked on it before we left Lisbon?" I asked, hoping it wasn't too bad. Without radar, a ship was practically blind in the open ocean.
"They probably did, but that ship's radar has always been funky. I heard it was because the thing was a hand me down from who knows how many other ships. But don't you worry, Chaser has her own so we should be fine." she said.
"That's good, but I should check in with them later about it. What about the rest of the squadron? Any news on the enemy?" I asked as I felt Eskimo begin to tap her feet together under the table and did my best to ignore it.
"Everyone's good, no sign of those creepy Sirens yet. Aunt Augustus thinks we'll catch them sometime after sunrise if we keep this speed up. You want sugar and cream with your tea?"
Try as I may, I couldn't help but give a small laugh at Eskimo's nick-name for the captain.
"Yes on the sugar, no thanks on the cream. If I remember our conversation from the range yesterday, you said you've been with the squadron for quite a few years now, right?" I asked, interested in getting a conversation going.
"Yup! I used to be a part of Second Squadron before it was disbanded. And before that I was with the Home Fleet stationed out of Halifax." she said, then we both heard the kettle whistle and she got up for it.
"So why didn't you go back? To the Royal Navy I mean." I asked.
"Oh, well that's because, um…" she trailed off as she shut the stove off and lifted the kettle off, her previously positive demeanor replaced with an awkwardness that seemed a poor fit on the young destroyer.
Chaser had been just as awkward the other day when I had referred to the Royal Navy, and now seeing how Eskimo was being so hesitant, I began to wonder just what the Royal Navy was like to elicit such a reaction from both of their own Kansen.
But before I could ask anymore of her, Eskimo suddenly stopped mid-pour and her head perked up to the right as if she was listening for something.
"Eskimo?" My only answer was an open palm pointed at my face followed by a single finger to her mouth in a show to stay quiet as Eskimo closed her eyes in concentration while she set the kettle down. She stayed like that for a full ten seconds.
"That doesn't look right." she whispered as her brows crunched in concentration.
"What is it?" I asked despite her request for silence. She opened her eyes and looked at me in confusion.
"It's just…" she fidgeted nervously. "I think I'm picking something up on my sonar."
My first thought was that that was impossible since she wasn't at the sonar station, but then I remembered that Kansen and their ships were connected in an almost mystical fashion. If she could pilot her hull without a full crew, it stood to reason she could work the various sensor equipment by herself too.
That's gonna take a minute to get used to.
"Okay, from where?" I asked.
"It's…" she concentrated again, "on my bearing of about one-four-zero to one-five-zero, around… two? Maybe just over one kilometer away."
In my mind I pictured the squadron's formation and Eskimos hull in the rear, placed a three hundred and sixty degree protractor atop it, and realized the contact was nearly directly behind us just to the left of the ship's stern, but the fact they were within two kilometers distance from us is what got my nerves going.
In naval terms, that's a little too close for comfort. I thought and before I stood up.
"Let's get to the bridge and get a better look." I said as I headed out with Eskimo on my tail. It was a quick trip up despite the protesting soreness of my prosthetic as I climbed the steep stairs faster than usual. Once back in the pilot house I grabbed a pair of binoculars hanging on the wall and then stepped onto the small bridge wing.
"Do you still have contact?" I asked her, as I turned towards the ship's stern in the general direction she specified from before.
"Hang on, let me double-check." she said as she walked to an actual sonar station that had been placed within her bridge for better access and placed a headset on. "Yup, it's still there, now bearing one-two-zero at one kilometer out."
Looking through the binoculars in that direction yielded nothing on the sea with how dark it still was. I checked the time and we still had over an hour before sunrise by which time we should be nearing the estimated battle zone.
But even so I should still be able to see a surface contact that's just one kilometer out. My gut curled as I concluded that the contact must be under water.
"Start a broad weaving course and call Chaser to see if she is seeing anything on her radar. I'll call the Danube." I instructed, then walked back into the bridge to grab the ship's radio.
Eskimo lowered her headphones and mentally called Chaser directly while her hull turned to port as she began to weave in a zig-zag course to throw off anything that might be aiming at us.
"Danube, this is Eskimo." I announced into the mic.
"Danube actual here." was the reply, letting me know I was speaking to the escort's commanding officer, Lt. Commander Jen Howell.
"Commander Howell, Eskimo has a sonar contact on a bearing of one-two-zero at roughly one kilometer distance, can you confirm contact? Over." I said, hoping it was just a lost whale or something.
"We're checking now, stand by…" The voice of Commander Howell spoke, I waited only a few more seconds before she spoke again, "that's a confirmed contact for us too sir, but it's barely showing up on our screen. But whatever it is, it's keeping pace with us."
Glancing to Eskimo as she finished her talk with Chaser. "Chaser says she doesn't have anything showing on her radar."
Which means whatever it is out there, it is definitely under the surface. Which meant a submarine. I thought and quickly ignored the shiver of fear that hit me.
Siren sub attacks were not especially well known, mostly because there were not many of them to begin with. Sirens mainly focused on surface and air power during the war, with almost all of the confirmed sub sightings being up in the North Atlantic.
"XO, this is the captain." Captain Augustus's voice now filled the shared com-line of the squadron. "Sounds like we've got an unknown tale back there."
"Yes ma'am, nothing solid yet but I'd like to check it out just to be safe. Requesting permission to investigate?" I asked.
"Permission granted, but do not stray far from the formation, I want you back here in an hour if you can't find anything, understood?"
"Good copy ma'am. Danube, we'll be leaving our current station now, keep your eyes on our flanks in case this is a distraction. Copy?" I said.
"Copy that sir, good hunting."
With that said, I turned back to Eskimo who was looking at me expectantly.
"Alright, let's get it done then. Right standard rudder to bearing one-three-zero. Load all mounts and remove depth charge safeties. What's the slowest speed you can go while not cavitating your propellers?" I asked.
"I can make twelve knots while quiet, but ten is better honestly." she said.
"Perfect, once we make the turn slow to ten knots and then set the sonar to passive. If there is something out there, I want to hear them first. Once we get closer, we'll go active on the sonar." I ordered, stepping into the familiar feeling one has when in command.
Eskimo repeated my orders in confirmation and her hull came even more alive as it made its starboard turn towards my interception course with the unknown contact.
As the ship steadied it's turn, I suddenly remembered that while I was technically in command of this ship, it was still Eskimo's boat and I'm sure she had her own methods or traits when going into combat.
"I'm not overstepping myself, am I? I'm guessing you probably do these types of maneuvers on your own." I said, but Eskimo just waved my concern off.
"Your fine commander, I can do it myself if I need to, but I don't mind a co-pilot." she said, then stepped out onto the bridge wing and promptly activated her rigging in a flash of crystal blue embers.
A set of mechanical arms appeared behind her attached to her lower back, one held a quad-torpedo launcher, the other a smaller version of her main battery double barreled turret, and finishing it off was a set of ski poles and skates.
"Ta-da! I haven't shown you my rigging yet have I? How do I look? Cute right?!" she asked, showing off with a few twirls.
This was actually my first time seeing a Kansen activate their rigging up close. To say I was amazed by the sight of such machinery simply appearing out of nowhere on her back was an understatement. However…
"You look impressive. But… Why do you have ski gear attached to you?" I asked.
"Because skiing is fun!" was all she said. I had no
It was just shy of our one hour time limit when I got the call from Captain Augustus to start our way back into the formation after unsuccessfully searching for our ghost target.
After arriving at the anticipated interception area, Eskimo had gone active with the sonar and had rung it like an overused church bell on Sunday morning. Yet despite all the effort in trying to find the target, nothing had come up and we had guessed it was probably just a lost whale.
Now we were running at full speed to catch back up to the squadron which had finally spotted two enemy ships on the brightening horizon.
The forward spearhead unit was advancing on them while the rear support group slowed to remain at a safe distance just as planned with Chaser having already sent out her bomb equipped interceptors to assist.
As I stood out on Eskimo's bridge wing I was feeling a bit embarrassed that my first combat action in the squadron started out as a wild goose chase, but considering the circumstances I knew it was better to be safe than sorry.
But I still felt a nagging feeling at finding nothing. Having an unknown contact pop up and then disappear right as we are about to engage the enemy is just a bit much to consider as a simple coincidence. But I shook the feeling off as I looked through the binoculars again and watched as the squadron moved into its combat positions far ahead of us.
"How long until we meet back up with them?" I asked as I looked over to Eskimo who was kneeling on the floor in front of an open panel of her sonar system that showed a mess of wiring that she was checking over to ensure they were functioning.
"About fifteen minutes." she said, her fingers still entangled in the mess.
After not finding our ghost target, she had decided to take a quick look at her sonar systems to ensure it wasn't an error on her part. Considering the Danube had also picked the target up too, I was confident we had seen something, even if it ended up appearing to be nothing.
"Alright, I'm going to head down to the bathroom real quick, start putting that back together, faulty or not we will be needing it soon." I said, she sighed then nodded as she took her hands out and began placing the components back in place.
The only reason I had agreed to her taking it off line in the first place was because she said she could bring it back online in under a minute so I wasn't too worried about having it off for what had only been less than five minutes, at least I told myself I wasn't worried. As I turned to walk out of the bridge, my thoughts returned to a jumble of embarrassment from our failure.
I can hear it now: The new commander, back from his ghost hunting trip! I thought as I stepped through the opening onto the bridge wing. But as I was about to climb down Eskimo had reactivated the sonar and suddenly the loud sound of the sonar bell ringing called my attention back. "What's that?"
Eskimo was on her feet and over the controls in an instant, but when she put the headphones on, her face suddenly paled.
"Torpedo! Torpedo in the water!" she shouted and immediately thoughts of the restroom were shoved out the window as I grabbed the binoculars again.
"Bearing? Range?" I called as I looked across the ocean for any sign of a torpedo trail.
"Bearing is… zero-eight-zero! Range seven hundred meters! It's… Down doppler?!" she said the last words with relief and confusion.
The 'term doppler' referred to the direction a ships (or in this case torpedoes) screws were running towards with the only three answers being up, down, or null. Up meant the screws were coming towards us, down meant they were moving away, and null simply meant they were transitioning from one to the other.
If it's down-doppler for us that means it's thankfully heading away, but then… realization hit me hard as I looked out on the bearing and finally spotted the torpedoes' wake as it swam through the cold ocean waters… straight for Chaser!
"Shit! It's going for our carrier! Hard right rudder till you bare down on that torpedoes origin point! Push all engines ahead full!" I ordered as I reached for the radio. Eskimo only nodded as she stepped out to get the torpedoes' origin bearing.
"Chaser, Exec! Chaser, Exec!" I double called into the radio to get the carrier's immediate attention as Eskimo showed me a slip of paper that wrote the torpedoes origin compass bearing, I nodded in thanks.
"Chaser here sir, something wrong?" she responded.
"Chaser, I have a torpedo sighting on a compass bearing of three-three-zero heading directly for your carrier now approximately five hundred meters away on her starboard side, take evasive maneuvers to port immediately!" I nearly shouted into the mic and looked out the porthole waiting for a response that came only seconds later.
"Understood, proceeding to evade!" spoke the tense voice of Chaser as her hull sluggishly made the turn. Then the voice of Lt. Commander Howell spoke from the speaker.
"Danube here. We've got it and one other tag along fish on our sonar. Chaser, stay on that turn for thirty seconds then straighten out and you should be fine. Good spotting Exec."
"Copy that Howell. Chaser, once those fish pass, maintain evasive maneuvers due South-East. Do you have any anti-submarine armament available for your aircraft?" I asked.
"Negative sir, and even if I did I already sent them all to help the forward group, but the Danube should have a Seasprite helicopter for such a role."
"Howell, can you confirm?" I asked.
"Aye sir, we got one. We're spinning her up now. She'll be airborne in five mikes."
"Good copy Howell, keep your boat to the rear of the carrier to screen for any more incoming torps. Eskimo and I will head in and get the enemy off your back." I said with both acknowledging my orders and wishing me good hunting.
Stepping back out onto the observation deck, I saw Eskimo looking out at the sea as her hull began to straighten out its turn, bringing her right into the interception course towards where those torpedoes had come from.
"Anything on sonar?" I asked.
"Nothing yet." was all she said. Her face no longer had that familiar smile she always seemed to have. Instead her brows were pinched and her fists were clenched in anger.
I stood next to her as her hull cut through the swells, doing my best to control my nerves and remain calm. This was my first battle since I lost the Barry, and I refused to have it end the same way.
"Looks like we're dealing with an enemy sub, can't say I've got a lot of experience in ASW, how about you Eskimo?" I asked as I looked over the waves with the binoculars, but kept one hand on the railing as the ship kept a zig-zag course to throw off any torpedo attacks, causing all manner of rocking that made me glad I had so little food in my stomach. But my question was only met with silence.
Glancing back down at her, I saw she was still looking out at water, her gaze was still hard yet her hands were clenched so tight that they began shaking.
"Eskimo?" my voice brought her attention back to me. "Is something wrong?"
She unclenched her hands and took a deep breath to steady herself.
"Sorry, I'm fine sir, and sadly I'm all too familiar with them. I fought against a few during the war; they were mostly used against merchant convoys in the North Atlantic. I… I lost a lot of friends because of them." she said.
And for a moment, she finally looked her age of a young girl, nervous and maybe a bit scared of what was to come.
I know that look. I thought, as my hand found itself about to rest atop her head before I thought better of it and instead placed it on her shoulder in comfort.
"Then let's make sure this one doesn't take any more, okay?" she sniffed once then blew her nose into a handkerchief from her pocket. After folding it, she breathed in again and with a determined look, nodded back to me.
"Alright then, what more can you tell me about them?" I asked, as her hull made another turn into a standard zig-zag course to throw off any incoming torps.
"Well, for one thing they were much larger than our own subs and very rare. If I remember right, only twenty were ever confirmed to have been actually sighted, and only eleven have ever been confirmed as sunk. One of my old friends, Haida, said she spent nearly twelve hours searching for one only to have it pop up nowhere near where she was searching." she said.
Well, that's promising. I sarcastically thought.
"Armaments'?"
"Over a dozen torpedoes and maybe some missiles, some even have big deck mounted guns on their hulls. Nobody has ever seen one long enough to tell anymore than that. Oh! And here's some good news: they always seem to work alone, no one really knows why.." she seemed confident enough in her words that she put some peace of mind to my nervous thoughts.
But only some.
The idea of bringing Danube out to help was tempting, but it would be a rookie move to leave our only carrier undefended.
"What do you think our chances of finding it are?" I asked as a wave hit the bow, sending a splash of salt water onto the deck. We both came into the pilot house to avoid the unwanted shower.
"It's not impossible, but they are a lot tougher to locate than our own subs." she said as she sat on the sonar station while I plopped into the captain's chair. "They can dive over sixteen hundred meters deep, much deeper than my sonar can detect and something about their hulls material makes them even more difficult for our sonar to find except when their just below the surface, or by the crazy chance they happen to literally be right underneath-"
PING!
The familiar and harsh sound of the sonar seemed to silence everything else. The wind, the sea, even my own heart beat seemed to adhere to its order of stillness.
"...us." Eskimo whispered as both of us looked to the sonar screen, in its center was our ship and not too far away was a fading silhouette that was almost as large as than ours.
PING!
The shape reappeared again, a little closer than before at about one thousand meters out. A glance to the depth gauge had the target at around two hundred meters down, after another ping the depth gauge remained the same, which meant the sub wasn't going any lower for some reason.
Strange, pretty sure they should be diving to their maximum depth by now after firing those torpedoes, so why are they staying so close to the surface? I thought before, despite the dominating feeling to remain silent, I forced a breath into me.
"Adjust course left by fifteen degrees. Slow to eight knots. Set half of the depth charges to two hundred meters, the rest to two-fifty." I said, but after one second too long I looked down to Eskimo and saw she remained focused on the sonar screen with both her hands squeezing around it as the target faded then came back after another ping.
"Eskimo." I said firmer, she blinked and turned her unfocused glasses back to me. "Did you get that?"
Her gaze seemed to refocus with my words and she nodded slowly with a silent gulp as her ship answered her silent orders.
"Aye sir, coming left fifteen degrees, reducing speed, charges are set and loaded." she said at a near whisper.
I gave a confident smile, fake as it might have been, but it seemed to work and she slapped her cheeks and became as focused as she had before.
Onward we went, the closer we got to the target, the faster and louder the pinging seemed to become. It was torturous, both the waiting and the dread of what might happen if we missed something. My mind began to wander to various thoughts of what might go wrong and what must go right… And how I wished that pinging would just shut up!
Looking over to Eskimo, she seemed as tense as I was.
"Relax," I told her, causing her to take in another breath as she looked at me. "It's my first fight in a while too. But we need to stay focused."
"Y-yes sir… thanks." she said, whispering the last word.
Then we heard the familiar chop-chop-chop of a helicopter and I turned to look out the bridge door to see the expected Seasprite chopping its way towards us. I picked up the radio and set it for the listed aircraft frequency.
"Seasprite, this is Ford, I see you coming up on us. How's your armament looking, over." I clicked off and was met with a familiar Texas accent.
"And a good mornin' to you too Foxy! We're loaded with one torp and four sonar buoys just for little old you." the voice of none other than Lt. Mike Williamson spoke, his words raising my spirits as it always has.
"Good to have you out here Mikey. We've got the target sitting on my bearing of zero-one-five, a hundred and fifty meters out, and about two hundred meters below the waterline. Drop your buoys in a three kilometer square search area ahead of us. Copy?"
"Good copy, heading out. You go ahead and relax Foxy, this'll be a cakewalk boss." he responded, earning a smile from me but a part of me knew I needed to talk with him sometime about radio edict. After hanging the mic up again, I saw Eskimo looking back at me with a hand on her mouth as she tried to hold in a laugh.
"Something funny?" I asked.
"Pfft-hehe, I like how he calls you… Foxy! Ha ha ha!" she said as she laughed a few more times at my expense.
Now I'm really going to have a chat with him on radio edict! I thought as the young girl had her laugh at my expense.
But before I could say anything more about it the sonar beeped again and this time the target looked to have changed course and both of us watched the screen to see where the sub intended on going.
"It looks like it might be trying to get around us to get another shot at Chaser." Eskimo said, and I concurred with her assessment.
"So then…" I began thinking about what to do, there were dozens of options but I needed to choose the best one.
Naval tactics were often compared to a complex algebra problem; we had the problem before us with its many alternatives to finding the answer of C depending heavily on what our two parties decided what A and B were. It was not ideal since both sides had a say in the problems parameters, but the key was ensuring our side kept the ball in our corner, or as older sailors would call it; finding and holding the weather gauge.
At the moment, we had the enemy's general location and had air support, therefore we had the upper hand. Yet Sirens were notorious for being brutal in their attacks, even going so far as to be suicidal. If driven hard enough, this sub could simply try to ram us.
A basic attack might be easily avoided, yet a more complex one has too many tasks to keep track of. My mind thought furiously as I struggled to build up a plan, but eventually I remembered a little detail. It still hasn't gone deeper than two hundred meters… is it damaged?
"Hey Eskimo," she turned to me, "Does anything about this sub seem off to you?"
"Yeah, I was starting to think that too. Tracking it is almost too easy. It should have dived deep already, but it's staying level. Hang on." Eskimo placed the headphones back on her head, took a full ten seconds to listen, and then turned back to me. "It's propeller sounds like it's cavitating, roughly to; and I'm hearing some odd mechanical groaning sounds, like something is jammed. Perhaps it's already hurt?"
Some would not call it wise to rely on what we hoped was happening, but the idea actually wasn't too hard to believe. If I remembered right, most Siren ships encountered recently all appeared to already have sustained damage in prior battles. With the destruction of all Siren foundries, they are now unable to repair themselves or create any replacements. The inevitable hope was that eventually they would die out either from disrepair or by simply wearing them down.
But still… a wounded animal fights ten times harder when cornered. I thought.
"If that's true, we'll need to be even more cautious. So here's what we're going to do. Once Mikey has the sonar net set up, the sub will probably react by going on the offense either against us or the other ships. I think it would be better if we acted before it had the chance. We're already tracking it well enough, so I suggest we move in and try to take it out or at least keep its focus on us rather than the others. How does that sound to you?"
Normally I would just have ordered the plan and expected compliance, but considering I was on a Kansen's ship, I figured it was best to be polite about it. That and I was still a little rusty at this little game called war.
"Sounds good, let's do it." Eskimo said with a little of her enthusiasm finally returning to her.
"Okay then, come right to zero-four-zero. We'll sail to the right of it then turn to a parallel course, once there we'll use our better speed till we are just about to overtake it. Then we'll turn to a course of three-one-zero to cross right over the sub then drop a full spread right on top of the bastard."
I mentally winced at my slip with that swear word, but Eskimo merely grinned.
"Sorry. Now, Mikey should have the net in place and ready right as we're making the last turn so any changes from the sub that we can't detect, he will."
At least I hope he will. I thought, it seemed like a fair plan in my head, and thankfully Eskimo nodded in acceptance.
So I called up the plan with Mikey and instructed him that once his sonar net was made he was to radio us the subs relative position to make it easier for us to land a hit, then stand ready to fire his torpedo if our drops missed or failed to finish it.
With everyone ready, I ordered Eskimo to begin the turn right as Mikey dropped his second buoy, a minute later Eskimo made the second turn to bring her hull parallel to the enemy's course as she kicked her engines into flank speed.
The enemy would definitely hear our movements, but as long as we knew what it was doing, we still held the ball, it was just a matter of keeping it. Eskimo brought the sonar headphones back on her head as she sat and listened intently.
"It's now bearing sixty meters off our port side and seems to be on the same course as before." spoke Eskimo, her gun turrets training out in the same direction, no doubt itching to fire away. I stood next to her and gripped a railing in anticipation.
Knowing an enemy was out there and was that close yet being unable to physically see it was damned annoying.
"Now it's fifty meters out, we'll overtake them in less than a minute." she said.
"Okay, immediately as we pass them, make a half left standard rudder." I instructed and she simply nodded.
"And… there. Making the turn. Slowing back to one third speed at twelve knots." Eskimo said and her hull matched her instructions. "Sub is maintaining course."
That's it, just a little closer. I urged the enemy, my grip on the railing tightening as the sonar beeping went faster and faster. I could see the Seasrpite hovering far ahead as it dropped what must have been their last buoy and then it shifted away in preparation for their own shot. Right on que, Mikey's voice came over the radio.
"Exec, this is Williamson, Buoy's are away and screaming, we've got the asshole right where we expected him to be, looks like you've got 'em dead to rights Commander." the pilot reported.
I thanked him and then heard Eskimo start sounding off the distance of the target as the sonar continued to beep off.
"Target now directly ahead at three-three-zero," Ping
"Thirty meters… three-four-zero." Ping
"Twenty five meters… now three-three-zero" Ping
Just a little more…
"Wait…" her words caught my breath as I looked to see Eskimo squish her eyes hard in concentration. Ping!
"Target's inside minimum sonar range…" Ping!
Already? I thought as my hands grip tightened even more somehow.
"Heads up XO, the sub looks to be slowing its course. I'm losing its signal." I heard Mikey report, but had no time to call back.
"Hydrophone is strong…very strong" Ping! Ping!
"Over revving screws…" PING! PING!
They're speeding up? I thought, not making sense of it until Eskimo make it clear that was happening next.
"No!" her eyes flew open as she jumped up. "It's trying to pass on our side!"
Damn it!
"Hard right rudder! Hard over! Fire on your mark!" I yelled and gripped the rail as the ship lurched in response to Eskimo's will, turning hard in the direction where that sub should now be and passing right over it.
It let us get in close! I realized as I stepped outside to the bridge wing to watch behind us right as Eskimo called her mark. If we miss this drop, the subs rear torps might have a clean shot at Eskimos stern. How could I miss that!?
"Launching medium pattern!" she yelled as she came out too and jumped atop her pilot house as I heard the pop-pop-pop sound of depth charges being launched off their racks into the depths below.
"Left standard rudder!" I ordered, Eskimo neither complained or questioned, she did as I instructed and her hull turned opposite of our previous turn. "Start a zig-zag. If we missed, I don't want that sub to have a clean shot at us."
Eskimo nodded in understanding as her depth charges exploded and eight large accompanying water spouts rose up from the ocean surface where we had just been. Yet there were no accompanying follow-up explosions or any visual telling of a hit.
"Anything Eskimo?" I asked as I brought up my binoculars for a closer look.
"Nothing yet." she said as she leaned off the pilot house while gripping her mast.
That explosion would have raddled our sonar. I thought as I walked to the radio and called up Mikey for a report, hoping his sonar net could see anything.
"Nothing yet boss, no debris either. It'll take a minute for our sonar's to get back on the target if it's still there. Once we get it we'll launch our torpedo and finish him off." It wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear, but it was what it was.
"Very well, proceed once you have a sighting." I ordered then hung up before I went out to see Eskimo still hanging off the mast.
"Okay Eskimo, we'll come about and start searching again, once we spot it we'll have our air-cover make their attack. At the very least we've given it a rough ride down there." I said, and Eskimo nodded in agreement as I reentered the bridge and took the first actual breath in.
We're okay, the ball is still in our corner, we've got this. I thought to myself, then the fleet radio squawked.
"Commander Ford, this is the captain, report." I heard the captain's voice on the COMM and picked up the phone mic.
"Captain, XO here. We've managed to successfully track the enemy sub and dropped one salvo of depth charges but no hits observed. Once the sea clears up from the charges, our Seasprite will use its sonar buoys to find the target again and hit them with its own torpedo. Over." I clicked off the mic and waited for her reply.
"Roger that, so far my group has successfully sunk one Pawn-class and now we're working on our second. It's going well enough over here so I'm sending Z23 your way to help you out, copy?"
"Good copy ma'am, and good hun-"
"Commander! Brace for impact!" I heard Eskimo shout and immediately dropped the mic without another word to the captain and instinctively grabbed the nearest solid grip I could.
A second later the entire ship seemed to jump up from its stern as if a giant had kicked it like a football. My grip proved only marginally effective as I ended up being thrown against the controls, my arm and head unfortunately colliding with something it shouldn't have. The impact was so intensely painful that I collapsed to the deck, my entire body suddenly feeling like heavy iron and my mind struggling not to black out as pain bombarded it.
For a few seconds everything was spinning and it hurt to think or move anything, I couldn't hear anything over a loud ringing noise in my ears and I tasted blood in my mouth.
Come on, get up! I urged my body despite its protests.
Groaning, I slowly lifted myself up to sit my back against a bulked and struggled to clear my eyes. At first everything was red and blurry but slowly I was able to focus and my sight finally returned and the ringing in my ears quieted if only a little.
That's when the pain came back, centering mainly from my forehead and my right arm. Looking down, I was thankful to see it was still attached, but I couldn't manage to move my fingers without it hurting. I brought my other hand to my head only for it to come back bloodied, from the disorientation I was feeling I knew I must have a concussion or something.
What was I going to do? Oh right, get up. I remembered.
Setting my injuries aside, I looked up and saw I was sitting next to the captain's chair. I gripped the arm rest and slowly pulled myself up, urging myself not to vomit from the intense drowsy attack from simply moving.
As I finally stood on my shaky legs while leaning heavily against the chair, the next thought that came to mind was what might have caused that explosion. Idiot, a torpedo hit us, that's the only explanation. Which means that sub is still alive down there. My mind berated me.
I pushed myself off the chair and made my way to the bridge wing to get a look at the hull and also mentally prepared myself to take a swim if the ship began to sink. A torpedo could literally blow a destroyer like the Eskimo in two, if that was what happened, I had seconds before the hull sank.
Have to see the damage. Have to find Eskimo. Such thoughts waded around my mind as I finally reached the wing and looked aft to see what was left. A plume of smoke was rising up from the rear of the ship and we had a small list already, but it didn't seem to be increasing… for now at least.
The rudder and props are probably gone. I thought as I began climbing down the ladder. We're gonna need a head count for the wounded, how many crew were there aboard? A hundred or more?
That number didn't sound right even though I knew that was how many should be aboard a ship this size, but then I remembered this wasn't an ordinary ship, this was a Kansen's hull which meant the only other crew member aboard was… Eskimo!
I cursed my slow brain for forgetting that fact and quickly began looking and calling out for her in what little voice I could find. It wasn't until I got down to the lower deck behind the pilot house that I finally found her lying face down at the bottom of the smoke stack, and she wasn't looking good.
Her rigging was missing the arm that had her torpedoes and her jacket was shredded, showing scraped skin beneath it. Laying next to her head were her glasses, it's left lens now cracked.
"Eskimo?!" I shouted as I slid down the rest of the steps regardless of the painful disorientation and was at her prone body in seconds.
"Come on Eskimo. I need you to wake up. Come on!" I said as I rolled her over onto her back, she thankfully was breathing and started coming to.
"C-Commander? Ugh… are you okay?" she asked as I sat her up against her hull and carefully put her glasses back on her face with a shaking hand.
"I'm alright… mostly, can you stand?" she nodded and I helped her up slowly and together we leaned against the railing as we looked back at the damage. "How's your ship?"
"Cough-cough. I think I've got some flooding in my rear compartments. All my hatches were shut tight so we should be okay. I think…" she steadied herself and took a deep breath, "I think my engine is busted. I can't feel my screws or rudder… or my rear turrets."
Then she glanced at me and noticed my own injuries.
"Commander! You're hurt!" she shouted as she noticed my bloodied arm and head.
"I'll live, just help me to the stern. We need to see how bad it is." She nodded with a sad look and together we began to head to the ship's stern, on the way I started to really feel the pain in my head.
"How does my head look? I hit it hard during the blast." I asked Eskimo, as she looked closer, her face grimaced at what she saw.
"You've got a gash on the right side of your forehead, but it doesn't look too serious… I think." she said, not really reassuring me but it would have to do for now.
Once closer to the stern, we found out why Eskimo couldn't control the rudder or screws, as expected they both weren't there anymore. The entire stern of the destroyer had been blasted off all the way up to the second rear turret which looked to be out of action too.
"M-my ship…" Eskimo sucked in a breath before slumping to the floor with tears building in her eyes.
Not knowing what else to do, I kneeled down beside her and rested my one good hand on her shoulder as she began to cry.
She's too young for this… Was my first thought, but I forced a stop to that line of thinking. Now was not the time for that, the enemy was still out there, probably itching for a second try at us.
"Listen to me Eskimo, I know it hurts but I need you to stay in the game with me, can you do that?" I asked gently, she sniffed once then nodded. Breathing in a lung full of foul smelling air I looked over the damage more closely.
I guess we were lucky, if that torpedo had hit somewhere amidships the entire ship would have been lost. I thought as I surveyed the wreckage and then froze as I spotted the cause of this disaster.
"Eskimo, on your feet, now!" I forcefully ordered, picking her up and steadying her stance. She was confused at first until she too spotted our adversary.
Rising up from the sea was a dark shape, its form was a smooth black like obsidian and its design was far larger than any submarine I had ever seen with a single rear conning tower and a single double-barreled turret mounted forward on its deck.
Along its hull were eerie dark red lines that formed what looked like two ugly eyes on its tower and on its bow was what looked like a huge well used ramming spike. The vessel reminded me somewhat of Jules Verne's written interpretation for a submarine, mechanical yet beastly at the same time.
But it wasn't as intimidating as it could have been since it was noticeably damaged as well with a few parts of it's hull caved in and scraped up, a few shell holes littering its side, with one massive misshapen chunk of its conning tower missing. Some of the damages already had heavy corrosion from the salt water meaning they were far older than this attack.
Now we know why it couldn't dive deeper than twenty meters. I thought, but remembered that despite its injuries, it still managed to get a hit on us.
I began thinking of what options there were for us but before I could think of anything, another explosion rocked the sea, only this time it had come from the Siren as a large spout of water arose from its side.
Was that a torpedo strike? I thought, then looked up to see the beautiful sight of the Seasprite flying towards the Siren with the sound of its machine-gun hammering away as the helicopter made a gun pass of all things.
Mikey you beautiful bastard! I thought as I watched the Seasprite bank away as the Siren sub began to list.
"WAHOO!" Eskimo shouted as she leapt up in victory. Then she surprised me by letting out a string of intense curses at the sub, the likes of which would have made my mother pale, but also make my grandfather smirk. When she was finished, she noticed me giving her a look and began to fidget in embarrassment.
"S-sorry about that sir. Um… please don't tell anyone what I said." she asked, and I made the motion of zipping my lips, much to her relief.
"Come on, let's get to the bridge, Z23 is on her way, can you inform her of our circumstances and tell her to get here as fast as possible." Eskimo nodded and we both made our way back to the bow as the young Kansen communicated with her friend.
As we went I kept glancing back to the Siren, praying that the Seasprites torpedo was enough. At the very least the sub's bow was aimed away from us so we wouldn't be hit by a torpedo again.
"She said she's on her way." Eskimo said as we passed her torpedo mount that looked offset from the blast as well.
"Thanks, any chance you can hit that ship with anything to sink it faster?" I asked, nodding back to the wounded Siren sub, but was met only with a shake of her head.
"Both my rear turrets are gone, and that blast jammed my torpedo mount. My front two turrets are still working but we'd need to somehow turn the bow to get them a clear shot."
"What about your rigging?" I asked, only to increase her downcast look as she glanced at her riggings missing arm.
"Too damaged, I don't think I can even skate on the water. I'm… useless right now." she said depressingly.
"None of that kind of talk, you hear. You're alive, that's honestly good enough for me." I admitted, which earned a small smile from her. "I can make it the rest of the way, you go try to get the torpedoes working again?"
"Um… okay, I'll do what I can." She said before she turned back to her torpedo mount, whether she succeeded or not, I needed to give her a task to focus on. Plus every working weapon counted.
By the time I reached the radio, I was out of breath and my arm's pain was almost unbearable. After I took a few seconds to rest, Il picked the mic up and set it for the Seasprite's channel.
"Williamson, this is Ford, do you read me?" I spoke, hoping we still had good COMM's. I was extremely relieved when his voice screamed back.
"HA HA! I knew a little kiss like that wouldn't do you in, how are you and the lady doing?" he asked.
"We're both okay for the most part, but Eskimo's hull is pretty much out of action. Watch yourself up there. That sub still looks to have some of its-"
"Oh SHIT! Hang on!" Mikey's shout was followed by the sound of a large gun battery firing away, and I knew it wasn't Eskimo's.
I ran out of the bridge and saw the slowly sinking Siren sub had activated its turret and was aiming up at the Seasprite. How much can that thing take before it fucking finally sinks!? I thought as I watched the helicopter dodge shot after shot, each was getting closer and closer.
"Come on Mike, veer off." I said, willing the pilot to hear my words. On his part, Mike showcased he was still a damn good pilot as he skillfully kept dodging the shots left and right. But he wasn't good enough as one shot finally clipped his tail rotors, sending the Seasprite spinning down to the sea below it.
"No!" I heard Eskimo shout from down on the main deck.
As the helicopter finally crashed into the sea with a large slash, Eskimo let out an angry yell and proceeded to aim her hull's small caliber anti-air guns at the Siren. The air was soon filled with the sound of AA guns blasting away at the sub.
While I had to admire her brave spirit, her efforts were getting nowhere since her guns had little to no effect on the siren other than annoying it and unfortunately drawing its attention.
The Siren slowly turned its guns upon the defenseless Eskimo and now, knowing of nothing more that could be done, I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.
Guess I'll end up losing another ship after all. I thought as a huge explosion silenced the whole world.
…
One second…
…
Three seconds…
…
Five seconds…?
Shouldn't I be dead by now? I thought as I slowly opened my eyes and to my surprise I was still standing exactly where I was before the explosion.
I glanced down to Eskimo who'd crouched behind her smoke stack and she seemed just as confused as I was. We both looked to the Siren sub only to see its final turret had been destroyed and was now in flames.
"Was that us?" I asked Eskimo, she only shrugged, then we both heard the sound of an engine high in the sky.
Aircraft? I thought as my eyes looked up.
A flight of twin engine planes were banking back around in formation. The most noticeable thing of them was the familiar bullseye identifier of the Royal Navy sent an immeasurable feeling of relief through me. Eskimo came up to the bridge, followed my line of sight, and mirrored my relief as she leaned against her railing in exhaustion.
"Thank God!" she wheezed out, I wholeheartedly agreed with her.
The pair of planes soon came around and began a steep dive for the sinking sub that was now completely defenseless against such an attack. With immense satisfaction, I watched both planes drop another set of bombs and this time they went right through what little armor the Siren had left and in the next moment the entire hulk blew to kingdom come.
It was a magnificent sight and I watched as the planes pulled up from their dives and circled around. One fluttered its wings in a universal greeting to us with Eskimo and I waving back as the two planes turned away, probably heading back towards their carrier.
I brought up my binoculars for a closer look at them as they left. They were small twin engine planes that I tried to remember the name of, but couldn't think of it, nor could I remember Chaser even having such aircraft.
"Eskimo," I got the girl's attention then handed her the binoculars, "Can you identify those planes?"
She nodded as she took the binoculars and looked up to the departing aircraft.
"Yeah, those are Royal Navy Sturgeon bombers." she said, then glanced at me with a confused look of her own. "But wait… I don't think they're from Chaser. She's never had planes that big on her deck."
My head ached at the confusion this matter was causing but I ignored it and looked back in the aircrafts direction, then I noticed that they were headed North-East. Chaser's carrier was supposed to be to the South of us.
If not Chaser, then who sent them? I thought, but remembered there were more important matters that needed attention.
"Eskimo, start looking around for survivors of the Seasprite, I'll go report in." I told Eskimo as I handed her the binoclars, she nodded and went off to look where the helicopter had crashed while I walked back up the bridge.
Before I entered, I looked back to what was now the large debris field of the Siren sub as the last of its hull sank into the depths of the sea. I was hardly what one would call a fully religious man, but I took just a few seconds to close my eyes and prayed a proper prayer of thanks to God that we'd made it through. Once I finished, I sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the radio mic.
"Any Third Squadron elements, this is the Eskimo, radio check, over." I spoke into it and almost immediately the voice of Z23 replied.
"Gott sei Dank. Z23 here sir, I am almost at your location. What was that explosion? Is Eskimo alright?"
"Eskimo's okay, her hull not so much. She's still watertight but she'll need a tow back to port. The good news is the Siren has been sunk. What's the squadron's status?"
"The forward group is engaging the last of the enemy ships now, they should sink it very quickly."
"Roger that. Chaser, you there?" I said, shifting the conversation over to the carrier.
"Here sir, I am very relieved to hear you and Eskimo are well."
"Thanks, but is there any chance you sent air support our way? Specifically Sturgeons?" I asked.
"No sir, I don't even have that kind of craft aboard. The only planes I have are modified Seafire's, all of which are currently helping Pennsylvania and the others finishing off the last Siren ship. Why do you ask?"
So definitely not ours then. I thought as an unsettling feeling grew in my gut.
"Are there any other friendly naval forces out here other than us?" I asked Chaser.
"None that I am aware of sir."
"Commander Ford, this is Augustus, is something wrong over there? " The captain asked, no doubt overhearing us on the Pennsylvania.
"Not sure ma'am. A flight of aircraft Eskimo identified as British Sturgeons just flew in and took out the sub, saved us really. But Chaser just confirmed their not hers so we might have another Royal Navy Carrier somewhere out here, most likely from the North-East as that's the direction the Sturgeons flew when they were done." I explained.
"The only other Royal Navy force I know that's close to here is... Merda! Of course she would come here." The captain shouted back, making me recoil from the volume and worsening my headache.
I would have asked who she was talking about but a new woman's voice spoke from the radio that, while possessing a British accent, was by far the most smug tone I had ever heard.
"Tch, tch, tch. Such foul language is rather unbecoming of you dear Augustus." I didn't know why but something about her tone annoyed the hell out of me. It reminded me of a certain smug Commodore back in Dublin.
"Non di nuovo. How did you get this frequency? And what are you doing all the way out here?" asked the captain who appeared to already know who the as of yet unnamed newcomer.
"Heheh, I see you have not yet changed from that often unknowing attitude of yours. But now you must rejoice for I, Valiant the Vigilant, have come to see the end of these Siren wrenches!"
Valiant? Where have I heard that name before? I thought to myself then glanced at Eskimo who'd come over to listen ever since the new voice had announced itself, her face morphing into a scowl that seemed ill suited for her, like she had tasted a sour food.
"That won't be necessary Valiant, as we speak my squadron is sinking the final Siren. We're all finished here." Augustus said, her tone taking on a bit of smugness of its own that seemed ill suited coming from her.
"Oh my, how impressive. Though had we arrived first, my forces would surely have made quicker work of things, but I suppose you did the best you could with so few numbers." Even I could taste the bitterness of Valiant's words. Eskimo meanwhile sighed in annoyance with the biggest eye roll she could make.
I mouthed: Who's Valiant?
Eskimo was hesitant to answer, but mouthed: Later.
"Sigh. Valiant, I am not in any mood to continue this pointless bantering nor do I have the time. Is your admiral present? I would like to speak to him."
"Pointless bantering?! How dare you-huh? Hey! Give that back!" Before Valiant could say anything more, a new voice came over the line of a man who sounded to be British as well.
"Captain Augustus, this is Admiral Tiberius Chase, commanding officer of Fort Gibraltar's garrison fleet. Since all enemy warships have been dealt with, I propose we meet up back in Ponta Delgada to… reassess." Spoke the now named admiral.
"That would be fine sir, thank you." said Augustus, her tone returning to its normal respectfulness.
"Are you in any need of assistance before we part ways?" he asked.
"Negative sir, thankfully we have no casualties."
"Very good then Captain, I will see you in port. Chase out."
With that the line was quiet for a few moments until the captain instructed all ships to switch to an alternate radio channel since our previous COMM line had unwanted listeners.
"Okay Third Squadron, listen up. You all performed admirably today, ben fatto. We will now set a course North for São Miguel Island for refuel and light repairs, then we're heading home. Commander Ford, I'll have the Danube send you a lift to transfer over. We'll hook up Eskimo's hull for towing."
I sighed in relief of the operation officially being over, despite my shortcomings as a commander, we had prevailed with no casualties. But on the matter of jumping ship to the Danube…
A quick glance over to Eskimo who was now leaning over her hull railing and looking with sorrow at her aft section that still had smoke trailing from it.
Thinking on it for only a second, I carefully stood up and picked the mic up.
"... This is Ford, I copy. But I request permission to remain aboard Eskimo for now until we reach port?" I spoke into the mic. Eskimo, having overheard me, turned in surprise at my choice to stay with her despite her hull's damage.
"Very well commander, I'll be calling back for a debrief of your engagement with the enemy in an hour, so have the details ready. Again, great work from all of you, Augustus out." the radio went silent and I hung up the mic then walked to stand next to Eskimo.
"Um, sir. Why are you staying? You need to get your wounds looked at." she said.
As if to prove her point my head was struck again by a wave of drowsy pain and my arms wound was not settling down anytime soon. Despite my sad state of health I was confident I would live.
"As an officer, your first responsibility is to the sailors under your command, period." the words of my drill instructor rang true for me now just as they did years ago on the Barry.
"What kind of officer would I be if I just abandoned my post after a few scratches. Sorry, you're just stuck with me." I said, offering a knowing smile that she mirrored as she finally returned to the bubbly personality I knew she had.
"Besides, I'm pretty sure I never got to finish that tea from earlier."
Next - Ch. 5: Tense Introductions
A/N - Bit of a long wait, I'd say sorry but naval battle scenes are not the easiest to write.
I actually revised this chapter quite a bit all summer, so I hope you guys enjoyed it. (used to have over 17K words so be thankful I downsized.).
From now on I will be dedicating each chapter to one character at a time (for the most part) so the plot will shift between Ford and Reuenthal sporadically but hopefully .
Also this story will be divided into arcs, we're about half way done with the first arc. After we complete this arc, I plan on doing a light revision of the story thus far, mostly fixing any grammar and plot errors I missed previously.
And as a last point, I will be becoming a lot busier with less time available for writing like I used to due to real life events. I know, growing up sucks, but it's gotta be done.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please leave a comment if you did.
TheAverageAsian217 on Chapter 3 Tue 10 May 2022 04:16AM UTC
Comment Actions
BirdFeather1837 on Chapter 3 Wed 18 May 2022 01:44AM UTC
Comment Actions
TheAverageAsian217 on Chapter 3 Wed 18 May 2022 02:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
JB (Guest) on Chapter 4 Mon 07 Nov 2022 06:29AM UTC
Comment Actions