The echoes of the Sakura Empire's surrender still reverberated through Azur Lane. The allied forces of the Eagle Union, Royal Navy, and their comrades poured resources into the shattered Empire, aiding in the arduous task of rebuilding. Once the dust settled, the Sakura Empire, humbled but not broken, rejoined the Alliance. As a condition of their surrender, Sakura Empire researchers laid bare their clandestine research, a trove of discoveries both groundbreaking and deeply unsettling.
The architects of Project Orochi – Akagi, Prime Minister Tojo, and other High-Ranking Officials with ties to the Sirens – faced the consequences of their actions. Stripped of their positions and brought before a military tribunal, Akagi found herself ensnared by irrefutable evidence. Drone footage clearly depicted her in conversation with Observer, and the Black Mental Cube, recovered by the SSN-856 USS Denver from the Orochi's watery grave, sealed her fate.
The Black Mental Cube, an ominous artifact, was presented as Exhibit A, now locked away in a secure Tech Box. After a tense hour of denials and rebuttals, the weight of the evidence crushed Akagi's resistance. Her confession was a desperate plea, revealing her obsession with reviving her lost sister, Amagi, and her misguided belief that Orochi could be weaponized against the Sirens using their own technology. The Court, in unanimous agreement with the Alliance, delivered its verdict: imprisonment and the stripping of her rigging.
Prime Minister Tojo, implicated in Project Orochi and a litany of crimes related to the Dragon Empery, received a life sentence. Commander Shin, too, faced the music for his role in the Pearl Harbor attack. However, Admiral Nimitz, with a pragmatic eye on the fragile state of the Sakura Empire's Naval Command, granted him a pardon. The severe losses among experienced officers left Shin as the most capable leader to safeguard Sakuran territories.
Adding to the turmoil, the enigmatic Enterprise-80 had conducted a swift and decisive purge within the Sakuran Military, targeting High-Ranking Officers deemed complicit. This left Commander Shin and his loyal subordinates as the only viable leadership. The Alliance, in a gesture of transparency, allowed Shin to review the evidence against his own father, Shendo – the plot to overthrow the Imperial Family, the poisoning of Nagato, and the insidious alliance with Siren Technology for Global Dominance.
Odin, a formidable figure, was now in Alliance custody, her unique ship undergoing rigorous examination. She languished in a specially designed, maximum-security prison, built to contain individuals with superhuman strength.
Meanwhile, the Crimson Axis Powers intensified their production and fortified their homelands and territories. The Sardigna Empire, ever defiant, continued its provocative actions, seemingly oblivious to the warnings of their allies.
-Yey, Italy!-
The Vichya Dominion, anticipating an Allied amphibious assault, began constructing a formidable "Atlantic Wall" to repel any such landing.
With the Sakura Empire threat significantly diminished, the Eagle Union and Royal Navy turned their full attention to the European theater and the persistent Siren menace, redeploying their production capacities to confront the Crimson Axis and the remaining Siren Bases in the Pacific.
In the aftermath of a recent engagement with a Siren Armada, the wreckage of their ships became the subject of intense study. The Siren Clone corpses and their intricate rigging held the key to understanding their technology. Guided by William's expertise, Azur Lane researchers embarked on a crucial mission to develop countermeasures.
William found himself immersed in this grim task, his hands-on examination focused on the unsettlingly "curvy" forms of the Siren Clones.
However, Siren activity in the Southern Pacific surged, with new forces and bases appearing, signaling their preparation for Azur Lane's next major counteroffensive in the region.
The recent victories against Siren Fleets emboldened many of the Alliance's Faction Leaders. Pearl Harbor Naval Base buzzed with increased activity as commanding officers and shipgirls were assigned to the strategic hub.
This influx of personnel, however, brought new challenges. Many of the newly commissioned commanding officers, fresh from officer's school, displayed an overinflated ego, leading to friction and clashes with more seasoned commanders.
Disturbingly, cases of sexual harassment and molestation targeting shipgirls began to rise. And amidst this turmoil, some of the base's male personnel found themselves embroiled in escalating conflicts, often ending in fistfights – with the unpredictable Lafayette somehow always in the thick of it.
And Laffey... well, don't even ask. You already know.
~One Week Later~
Pearl Harbor Azur Lane Base
CVN-80 USS Enterprise, a behemoth of a supercarrier, rested in the cavernous expanse of one of the base's largest dry docks. On Admiral Nimitz's direct orders, the dry dock had undergone significant expansion to accommodate the supercarrier's immense hull and to prepare for any potential damage sustained in future sorties.
On the vast, flat deck of the supercarrier, a meticulously orchestrated chaos unfolded. The rhythmic grinding of metal and the sharp crackle of welding torches filled the air as Manjuus and William worked tirelessly. Dock cranes slowly lowered sections of the Electromagnetic Aircraft Launch System (EMALS), single magnetic rails, onto the deck.
William wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, the Hawaiian sun beating down relentlessly. "Thank God," he muttered to himself, "these EMALS have so few moving parts compared to those steam catapults."
He glanced at the Manjuus, their tiny hands deftly connecting the components of the magnetic rail along the length of the catapult. "You guys are really lucky you don't have to crank an entire steam catapult."
A soft voice, tinged with uncertainty, reached his ears. "Umm... William... how do you access this?"
Vestal stood beside him, a tablet displaying a detailed section of the Jet Blast Deflector on the Supercarrier's digital blueprint.
William sighed, understanding her ongoing struggle with the new technology. He swiped the left corner of the screen, revealing an accessible hatch or opening within the Jet Blast Deflector's design. "It's right here, Vestal."
"I'm sorry, I still couldn't figure this thing out, even though I've been using this for weeks now," her voice stammered slightly as she sought his help.
"No need to apologize. You'll get used to it in time," he said reassuringly, a brief brush of their hands as he pointed out the detail.
"Thank you," Vestal replied, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. In the past few weeks, an unspoken closeness had blossomed between them.
Naval Base Residential Area
In the residential sector of the Naval Base, Admiral Nimitz, with HR's approval, had commissioned the construction of a unique House/Dorm specifically for the modern Kansens.
The House/Dorm resembled a typical American home, boasting eleven individual rooms for its occupants, a spacious living room, and a large dining area. Outside, eleven flagpoles stood tall, each proudly displaying the flags of America, Britain, and Japan, fluttering in the gentle breeze.
At the entrance, a low-level commotion was brewing.
"That room is mine," Lafayette declared, pointing emphatically at a room situated near the second-floor staircase.
Lucas simply shrugged. "Meh... I'm not going to argue with that."
Frigate Belfast interjected, her tone crisp. "Men's rooms are on the first floor. And women's rooms are on the second floor, as Miss Enterprise clearly stated before."
A look of utter disappointment washed over Lafayette's face. Lucas clapped him on the shoulder in commiseration. "Don't worry, buddy. You're allowed to party with us... here with the bois on the first floor. I even got an inflatable pool and an icebox."
Lafayette suddenly remembered something. "Umm... guys...? Where's Laffey?"
"About that...." Frigate Belfast turned and glanced towards the living room.
They all followed her gaze and saw Laffey-200 sprawled asleep on one of the couches. Her posture defied any semblance of decorum, limbs akimbo, decency thrown at the window, making her an almost comical sight.
"Drunk again... huh," Lucas muttered, shaking his head.
"We really do need to regulate Laffey's drinking habits," Frigate Belfast stated, a hint of concern in her voice.
Lafayette, stroking his chin thoughtfully, added, "I also heard news about a bar fight last night."
"Pardon???" Frigate Belfast blurted out, her composure momentarily shaken.
Lafayette continued, "The word going around the Base is that ten guys ended up hospitalized after trying to gang up on her in her drunken state. Apparently, they all suffered broken bones and facial fractures. The bar was trashed – broken chairs, tables, shattered windows, and even holes in the ceiling."
Lucas's eyes widened with a strange mix of awe and envy. "Bastard! She didn't even invite me, especially when those dumbasses tried to 'fuck around and find out' with her."
"What about Law Enforcement? Did anyone respond to the brawl?" Frigate Belfast asked, her worry deepening.
"Well...." Lafayette hesitated for a moment. "The Police did show up, but... after they saw what she did to that Sakuran Spy the other day, they just let her go without disrupting her night. They don't want any of their officers ending up in a casket."
Frigate Belfast now harbored a genuine fear of letting Laffey roam the Base unsupervised. Even Belfast herself felt a prickle of unease.
"Wait!... she got a Green Card with the cops?" Lucas asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Lafayette simply shrugged. "I don't know."
"Wait... how did you even know any of this?" Lucas asked, suspicion creeping into his tone.
"Who do you think carried her home in her drunken stupor?" Lafayette retorted, a touch of annoyance coloring his voice.
The unofficial "Personal, Errands boy, servanT," or P.E.T., as Laffey-200 had mockingly redesignated him from Frigate to Tug Boat, was always there to bear her home.
"I'm going to ask Admiral Nimitz for assistance in keeping an eye on her, especially when she's intoxicated," Frigate Belfast declared, her decision firm.
"You should recommend the 'Trio'," Lafayette suggested. "They are always reliable. And also, she has a soft spot for those three."
"I see... I will ask the Admiral about that," Frigate Belfast conceded. "But for now... she's in your care."
"Wait—what?!" Lafayette blurted out, aghast. "You can't do that! I have... I have my own plans for the day!" He vehemently protested the assigned task.
"Oh." Frigate Belfast's voice held a subtle shift, her features darkening slightly as she sensed something amiss in the Little Frigate's schedule. "May I inquire about your plans for the day...?" Her eyes flickered to the tucked-away white flowers peeking out from his jacket. "Are you meeting up with someone, Lafayette?"
Lafayette froze, his baguette and croissant forgotten. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "No – no... Why would you ask?"
Lucas leaned in and whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Just tell her you're meeting up with someone. She'll understand."
Lafayette shot him a warning glare. "Stop it! She's going to ground me if she finds out."
"Ahem," Frigate Belfast cleared her throat pointedly. "I am instructed to supervise your movements and ensure you don't get lost all the time."
"It was the girls! They dragged me into their adventure!" he retorted defensively.
"An adventure which involved me searching for you and your friends in the woods," Frigate Belfast countered, her disdain for the wilderness evident.
Frigate Belfast would choose civilization other than dwelling into the woods.
"Fine... I won't go outside the Naval Base perimeter. I'll inform you if I'm going anywhere else," he conceded, defeated.
"Good... I expect you to behave... and avoid Ark Royal."
1
As the tense moment eased, Lucas made his escape from the living room, heading out into the base in search of anything to alleviate his boredom.
-Marine Corps.' number one enemy: Boredom-
"Well then... I leave it in your hands. I'm going to check if anyone is misbehaving." Before Lucas could slip away, Frigate Belfast's hand clamped down on his right shoulder.
"Wait. I know you like to find trouble on this Base. Miss Enterprise instructed me not to let you start another brawl."
Lucas felt a cold sweat break out as a scary aura seemed to emanate from behind him. "I'm not looking for trouble. I'm just going to walk around the Base to see if everything is... alright."
Frigate Belfast remained unconvinced. Every time Lucas got into trouble, she was the one summoned to the Admiral's office. She vividly recalled the last incident when Lucas tried to defend a group of Treaty Cruisers from harassment by some cocky Rookie Commanders. His intervention had escalated into a full-blown brawl, landing the rookies in the Base Infirmary.
"Lucas. One more incident, and you are grounded... do you understand?" Frigate Belfast warned him, her voice dangerously low. This time, she would personally ensure his punishment.
"Ye-Yes, Ma'am," Lucas stammered, terrified of unleashing her inner fury. But a Marine was a Marine, and trouble often had a way of finding them, or vice versa.
Hill Cliff
Javelin proudly displayed her newly acquired battle-star, a tangible symbol of her victory. "I downed one Elite-Siren Clone – one battle-star!" she declared to anyone who would listen.
In the wake of her award, a wave of jealousy rippled through the ranks of Eagle Union Destroyers and Light Cruisers. A surge of new recruits flocked to the rigorous training program, all eager to earn their own battle-star. Unicorn, however, was still deemed too inexperienced and was barred from joining.
Truth be told, she was terrified. Her small hands gripped the handle and trigger of the FGM-148 Javelin tightly, the missile locked onto a distant target. The battle-star Javelin had received gleamed on her right chest.
From the very first day, Essex-12 had bombarded the trainees with relentless slurs and insults. Sleep became a luxury for many, and escape attempts were futile, resulting in the unfortunate individuals being dragged back to the grueling Boot Camp.
"How much longer are we going to run...?" Mullany complained, her voice laced with exhaustion after yet another lap.
"My knees are killing me!!!!" Omaha yelled in protest, her legs burning with fatigue.
"We're almost there!" Atlanta encouraged, as she and San Juan half-dragged the passed-out San Diego. San Diego had collapsed mid-track, her legs simply giving out.
"Why did she collapse now! When we're practically at the finish line!" San Juan grumbled, frustration evident in her tone.
"Nam bah wan..." San Diego mumbled incoherently, lost in her exhaustion.
Just then, the Brooklyn Class passed them, their determined strides carrying them through another lap. Their Typical PT Uniforms did little to restrain their assets, which jiggled rhythmically with each step.
"Don't get lazy on me, turds!" Essex-12's voice boomed from behind them, her lead widening.
"How is she able to keep shouting all day?!" Honolulu gasped for air, her own considerable assets bouncing uncomfortably.
"That's quite surprising coming from you?" Phoenix quipped, a smirk playing on her lips.
"What did you just say?!!!" Honolulu retorted, feeling a surge of indignation despite her exhaustion.
"That's enough, you two! We're all out of breath, and you have time to argue," St. Louis said, her own ample assets swaying gently.
"Focus! We're almost there," Brooklyn reminded them, her tone firm.
"Right!"
"Another complaint, another lap!" Essex-12's voice echoed from the back of the track.
"Oh! For God's sake! / Oh! Come on!"
"Quit yapping! Move your asses!!!!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" the exhausted trainees chorused.
~Back to the trio~
"Wow... Javelin. I wish I could get my own battle-star," Unicorn said, her voice filled with a mixture of jealousy and admiration.
"Don't worry, Unicorn, you'll get one... someday," Javelin reassured her, placing a comforting hand on Unicorn's left shoulder.
"I wish I could join you guys in the training," Unicorn said sadly. Then, her expression brightened, and she stood up with newfound determination. "So, that's why I'm going to join the next training program!"
"Maybe you... shouldn't..." Javelin said hesitantly, a flicker of concern in her eyes.
"You better not... that training is hellish," Laffey-459 mumbled, taking another bite of her sandwich.
"There you were."
They all turned towards the source of the voice. Ayanami appeared, struggling to support a heavily intoxicated Laffey-200. Ayanami could barely walk straight cause of her load, her steps weaving erratically as they ascended the hill.
Laffey-200's arms were wrapped tightly around Ayanami, her "bow-mounted sonar" digging uncomfortably into the destroyer's sides. Ayanami finally managed to gently lay Laffey down on the grassy slope beside them.
"Is Big Sis alright, Ayanami?" Unicorn asked worriedly, observing Laffey-200's thoroughly "wasted" state.
"She's alright, Unicorn. She's just a... umm..." Javelin carefully chose her words, wary of saying anything that might upset Illustrious.
"Just drunk," Laffey-459 stated plainly, causing Javelin to wince.
Ayanami cut to the chase. "Listen... we are tasked by Admiral Nimitz to keep an eye on her. Desu."
"Why we?" Javelin asked, confused.
Ayanami replied, "Lafayette is the one who recommended us for this task."
"Why would he—"
"Big Brother believes in us!" Unicorn exclaimed, a wide, innocent smile spreading across her face, cutting Javelin off.
"Yea-Yeah..." Ayanami said, slightly bewildered.
Laffey-200 slowly fluttered her eyes open, a look of confusion clouding her vision as she cradled her aching head. "Where... am... I?"
"Here. You must be hungry?" Laffey-459 offered her a sandwich.
Laffey-200 took the sandwich. "Thanks???" She then devoured it in her typical Laffey fashion – one massive bite.
"How many guys did you beat up last night?" Laffey-459 asked casually, a hint of mischievous curiosity in her eyes.
"Ten... according to the report," Laffey-200 answered nonchalantly, as if it were an everyday occurrence.
"W-Wait, you got into a fight???" Javelin asked, her voice filled with surprise.
"I beat those perverts," Laffey-200 stated matter-of-factly.
"The rumors floating around the Base are that a bunch of Rookie Commanders got into trouble for misbehaving around shipgirls. Desu," Ayanami added, a touch of concern etched on her face.
"Where is he?" Laffey-459 asked, pointing a finger with a serious expression.
Laffey-200 tried to focus her hazy memory. "Let's see... he headed towards the main building holding a white flower of some sort. I don't know any further details..." She then drifted back to sleep.
"Is Big Brother meeting up with someone?" Unicorn inquired innocently.
"He better not be," Laffey-459 muttered under her breath.
Yorktown's Office
In her office, bathed in a pristine, soft glow, orderly stacks of papers rested on Yorktown's desk. She sat at her seat, meticulously prioritizing the crucial dossiers for upcoming fleet sorties.
A gentle knock echoed at her office door, followed by Lafayette's hesitant voice. "Um... Miss Yorktown... may... I?"
"Yes, you may come in."
The door creaked open, and Lafayette entered, a bouquet of white flowers clutched in his trembling hand, his nervousness palpable in his demeanor. Yorktown greeted him with a warm smile, causing him to visibly stiffen.
"May I inquire about your visit?" she asked gently, her gaze drifting from the flowers to his face. "Lafayette?"
He swallowed hard, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. "Um... um..." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and finally blurted out what was in his heart. "Miss Yorktown... would you like to go out on a date with me?"
1
He extended his hand, the white flowers shaking slightly as the confession he had just uttered echoed in his ears.
Yorktown's reaction was one of genuine surprise. She had never anticipated such a direct advance. A soft, curved smile formed on her lips, but a pang of regret followed. Her schedule was relentlessly packed, making it impossible to accept his heartfelt offer. Her heart ached at the thought of turning him down, especially after he had clearly mustered considerable courage to ask.
"That's a lovely invitation, Lafayette."
Lafayette's head snapped up, his face lighting up at her words.
"But... my time is completely filled, I'm so sorry..."
The words struck him like a physical blow.
Just like the "formidable" Maginot Line, his hopes were bypassed and left untouched as the Ardennes Forest became the chosen path.
"Wait... what?" he stammered, his tone low and filled with disbelief.
"I have a scheduled evening with my sisters as we celebrate our nation's birth."
Yorktown's concern deepened as she witnessed the sudden shift in his expression, a look bordering on heartbreak. She couldn't bear to leave him so dejected. She needed to do something to lift his spirits.
"No, Lafayette, don't be sad..." she said softly, lowering herself slightly to meet his gaze. "I'll ask someone to take my place. Don't be sad. I promise... your date night will be remarkable."
Lafayette nodded slowly. "I-I understand... your family is far more important," he said, his voice tinged with understanding.
"Thank you, Lafayette." She gently placed a kiss on his head, a gesture that seemed to melt away his disappointment like ice cream on a summer day.
Author's note: I want to clear up any misunderstanding here. Lafayette only has a crush on Yorktown, just like a kid having a crush. I also wanted to create a subtle historical connection between the two. Marquis de Lafayette famously fought in the Battle of Yorktown. Just a little nod to history between these two characters.
Submarine Port Facility
A Virginia Class Block V Submarine lay concealed beneath the steel roof and walls of the Port Facility, shielded from the prying eyes of unauthorized personnel, safeguarding its advanced design from any potential leaks.
Heavily armed Manjuus stood sentinel, maintaining tight security around the facility.
Just as the Submarine was shrouded in secrecy, Arizona had to maintain his own hidden identity. His existence was known only to a select few individuals and Kansens, operating in the shadows to facilitate his clandestine missions.
Denver-856 also operated under a veil of secrecy, her true name and existence concealed. Both she and Arizona used codenames or fabricated names that subtly mirrored their real identities.
Clad in a Navy Officer's Uniform, Arizona seamlessly blended back into the shadows, often mingling with officers and his intended targets.
The Devil himself had struck a deal with the Queen. Their clandestine meetings were facilitated by a discreet third party – Sheffield. Remaining unseen, Queen Elizabeth had established contact with the Enigmatic Phantom.
This arrangement, while potentially compromising Royal Navy Secrets, was deemed necessary to root out the moles and corruption festering within her fleet. Monarchies often resorted to such under-the-table dealings – perhaps unsavory, but undeniably effective.
Arizona stood before the Royal Navy Dorm, his gaze drawn to the majestic marble pillars of the building and the Royal Navy flag fluttering proudly in the breeze.
A sly grin spread across his face. "Let's see what juicy secrets you've been hiding."
He entered the lobby, where a Receptionist in a crisp Female Navy Uniform waited in the reception area.
"May I help you, sir?" the Receptionist inquired politely.
"Yes. I would like to know where I can find the 'Officers Club'?" he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes.
"I see... you have certain business?" the Receptionist replied, understanding the unspoken meaning. "Okay... name and rank?"
"Anders... Commander Anders," Arizona replied smoothly, lighting a cigar.
Harbor
"Are you certain a single individual like him can handle the task you've assigned, Your Majesty?" Warspite asked, her brow furrowed with concern about the espionage mission.
"Yes, I am quite certain. Sending the Maids would consume more time, and allocating one to such a task could disrupt several scheduled sorties and Royal duties," Queen Elizabeth replied confidently.
'Let's hope we obtain the desired results by the end of the week. It would be rather embarrassing for the Crown if this espionage endeavor proves fruitless.'
"If Miss Enterprise holds Sir Arizona in such high regard as a master of data gathering... I daresay I've placed my wager on the right card," she added with a hint of amusement, a subtle flash of her canine tooth visible on her lip.
Warspite sighed, then turned her attention to the approaching vessels. "Your Majesty, Mistress Enterprise has arrived," she announced, her voice stern and formal.
At the pier, Port Manjuus expertly caught the mooring ropes thrown from the docking Nuclear Cruiser. The gangway was lowered on the starboard side, and two figures could be seen descending the ramp towards the waiting Manjuus.
"I can't believe I missed this place already," Enterprise-80 remarked as she stepped onto the pier, her gaze sweeping across the familiar surroundings of the Base.
"After having a conversation with a bunch of politicians? Yeah... I kinda miss this place too. Politics doesn't play out here," Bunker Hill-76 added with a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, you're right, Bunker Hill."
Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 continued their conversation as they walked towards the main building.
"Why is it that every military operation turns into a political mess these days? Every time we conduct a strike on Siren strongholds, there's always politics involved," Bunker Hill-76 exclaimed, frustration evident in her voice.
"Bigwigs want some recognition, to boost their popularity back home," Enterprise-80 explained with a hint of cynicism.
They then encountered Queen Elizabeth, flanked by her ever-present Security Detail, Warspite, with her massive sword held at her side. Queen Elizabeth greeted them with her characteristic British accent.
"Good day, Miss Enterprise and Miss Bunker Hill."
"Good morning, Your Majesty," they both replied in unison.
"I've overheard your conversation all the way from here," Queen Elizabeth remarked, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"Oh. We were just discussing how frustrating the operations have become with all the political interference," Enterprise-80 replied, a note of dismay in her tone.
"Oh... I see. What about the proposed invasion of mainland Europe? Is it a go?" Queen Elizabeth asked, her expression expectant.
"I've assessed the Eagle Union's Army, and it's in a rather sorry state. Their numbers and capabilities are comparable to the pre-World War I era. The Royal Army faces a similar situation. So, that's a big NO, Your Majesty. We can't land on mainland Europe with an army in that condition."
(Both Armies possessed technology equivalent to their World War II counterparts, but their numbers, capabilities, and doctrines were still akin to the pre-World War I era. Concepts like Mobile Warfare and Armor Warfare remained largely theoretical. This lag in ground advancements was a direct consequence of the shift in resources and priorities towards Wisdom Cube research and shipgirl construction to combat the Sirens.)
"Ah. I see..." Queen Elizabeth's initial enthusiasm waned slightly at Enterprise-80's blunt assessment.
Enterprise-80 continued, "Attempting a D-Day with their current state would be like sending them to their deaths. And thank God, Dwight is the one listening and possesses more common sense than the rest of them."
Warspite interjected, attempting to lighten the Queen's darkening expression. "How much time do you estimate it would take us to reach the necessary numbers and capabilities?"
"We can produce all the required materials within half a year with the current production rate, but..." Enterprise-80 paused, a hint of concern in her voice.
"But what?"
"The Soldiers we need for the invasion will be the main obstacle. Our recent survey regarding men's willingness to enlist in the war revealed... pathetic levels of enthusiasm. Even more pathetic than in our own generation," Enterprise-80 explained grimly.
"So, even if we had sufficient numbers, their motivation to fight would be lacking?" Warspite asked, surprised by this revelation.
Bunker Hill-76 added, "Over a million soldiers participated in the storming of Normandy's beaches, and they were all highly motivated. The Soldiers we have today would be little more than cannon fodder if the invasion were to proceed."
"Our next plan will involve targeting them strategically, one by one, before we even consider a landing on mainland Europe," Enterprise-80 stated, a new strategy already forming in her mind.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Warspite muttered to herself, a sense of foreboding washing over her.
Queen Elizabeth then recalled something. "WAIT. What about... Denver... is it? I still haven't received any news regarding Denver's whereabouts."
"Oh... I sent her on a reconnaissance mission for our next upcoming operation. I've also requested Belfast to provide assistance to her," Enterprise-80 replied with a reassuring smile.
Following their conversation, they both entered the main building. They then engaged in discussions with Admiral Nimitz and Admiral Philips regarding the next raid on another Siren stronghold, using it as a crucial learning experience for their eventual mainland Europe invasion strategy.
5-Star Restaurant (of sort)
~6:00 PM~
Arizona sat at a secluded table, his eyes scanning his surroundings, meticulously observing his target. Snippets of conversations drifted into his ears as he gathered information.
His target was a particular Royal Navy Commander, easily identifiable by his pristine white uniform and the ostentatious array of medals adorning his left chest. While a high-end restaurant wasn't an ideal location for espionage, intel suggested this individual was a significant figure worth extracting information from.
Donning a Royal Navy Officer's uniform to blend in and avoid suspicion, Arizona even adopted subtle mannerisms, mimicking the casual air of officers enjoying a drink. He swirled the wine in his glass, feigning casual contemplation. His expression suggesting a man waiting for a companion.
He smirked inwardly. "Damn... even Queen Elizabeth can sense some BS. No wonder you're on the naughty list."
He sipped his wine deliberately, absorbing every word his target uttered. His gaze then flickered towards the entrance as he spotted Lucas entering the restaurant. He maintained his composure, his cover remaining intact.
"Oh, great," he muttered under his breath, his eyes now fixed on the Marine.
Lucas entered in his Marine Corps Service Uniform, the refined ambiance of the restaurant a stark contrast to his military attire. He anticipated a potential clash breaking out before the night was over.
He had deliberately chosen his Service Uniform over his Dress Blues to avoid drawing undue attention and the inevitable interest of the ladies. The olive green helped him blend in somewhat with the Army Officers present in their own Service Uniforms.
Adjusting his tie, Lucas noticed Arizona seated at a luxurious table, clad in a Royal Navy Officer's white uniform. Sensing something was amiss, he walked towards him.
"Quite a magnificent night, Commander...?" Lucas began, his tone casual.
"Anders. Commander Anders," Arizona corrected smoothly, maintaining his disguise.
"Right. Quite a lovely night, isn't it, Commander Anders?" Lucas repeated, emphasizing the fabricated rank. "Waiting for some... company?"
"I am already accompanied." Arizona's eyes subtly flickered to his right, where his target was engaged in conversation. Lucas followed his gaze.
"May I also inquire about your presence in such an establishment?" Arizona asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Lucas responded with dry humor. "Oh... about that. Miss Laffey... neglected to invite me to her bar fight last night. So... I'm hoping to find some..." he gestured around the elegant setting. "Here."
Arizona's face twitched almost imperceptibly, threatening to break his character. "Figures. This is a five-star restaurant, not your typical bar."
"Well... if there are women and drinks, there's bound to be trouble," Lucas said with a mischievous grin.
"You damn fucking Marines always love to find trouble, or create it if none exists," Arizona chuckled softly. They both exchanged knowing smiles.
"Just keep your voice down. I'm working," Arizona reminded him.
"Yeah, right... good luck with your night, Commander Anders."
"Same to you," Arizona returned the sentiment.
Lucas nodded and offered a piece of unsolicited advice. "Just be careful with the Maids. They can be a bit... dangerous in the Dormitories."
"Yeah... I'll be careful, especially with her."
"Her??? You mean Belfast?" Lucas speculated, raising an eyebrow.
Arizona shook his head, referring to the other Maid who always regarded him with undisguised apprehension. "No. The other one."
Lucas, confused by the cryptic reference, decided not to press the issue. "Okay... have a good night then." He waved goodbye and headed towards the bar counter, ordering a bottle of beer.
After Lucas departed, Arizona resumed his observation, tuning out the surrounding noise. A soft clacking of heels on the marble floor approached his location. A figure stopped beside his table, casting a shadow over him. He looked up and saw an expected, yet still surprising, person standing before him.
"Is this seat available?" she inquired in a soft, monotone voice.
"Quite unexpected for you to show up in a place like this," he replied, maintaining his calm demeanor.
She closed her eyes briefly. "Same as you."
"Well then... have a seat," he gestured to the empty chair opposite him.
Earth Embassy
They had dubbed their shared Dorm or House "Earth Embassy" due to a collective lack of creativity. Had some "idiot or dumbass" gotten their hands on naming the house, it would likely have resulted in a slur or one of the worst acronyms imaginable. Thus, the rather bland name was chosen by default.
Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 walked towards the newly constructed house after a lengthy discussion and planning session regarding the upcoming strike on Siren strongholds.
As Enterprise-80 was about to step inside the Dorm, someone called out her name. The person's voice was strained, filled with panting gasps. She turned around and saw CV-6, her face flushed, struggling to catch her breath.
"It's already night, Granny. What do you want?" Enterprise-80 asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.
Enterprise-6 stumbled closer, her hands gripping Enterprise-80's shoulders tightly as she gasped for air. "I need your help... about a Date!"
"What... The... Fuck??????" Enterprise-80 exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.