Enterprise-80 stood awkwardly at the entrance, her face clearly questioning the choices that led her here. Dressed in CV-6's clothes, her cap slightly tight and jacket a bit snug. She scanned the area to make sure no one recognized her.
"...The fuck am I doing?" she muttered.
~30 minutes earlier~
The two Enterprises sat on the front steps of the Dorm entrance, shoulders nearly touching. The quiet buzz of base life served as background noise to their unusual conversation.
"Wait—you're telling me you accepted Commander Thomas's date invitation?" Enterprise-80 asked, incredulously.
Enterprise-6 looked down, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "Yes. He's been asking me out since the day we met. I've turned him down every single time, but... I figured if I said yes once, maybe he'd stop asking."
"...Okay, but then why go if you didn't want to?"
Enterprise-6 stood up abruptly. "That's the problem! Yorktown's movie night is tonight. It's the only time I get to hang out with her this year, and I can't say no to that."
Enterprise-80 blinked. "So... what do you want me to do?"
Without warning, Enterprise-6 grabbed her hands with the desperation of someone begging a beloved daughter for a favor. "I want you to take my place on the date!"
"WHAT??!!"
~Present~
Enterprise-80 stepped through the grand doors of the restaurant, muttering under her breath. "Nobody will notice, you said. It'll be fine, you said."
The elegant clinking of cutlery, soft jazz, and the scent of overpriced wine filled the air. Waiters in pristine uniforms greeted her politely. She gave them a stiff nod and scanned the room.
It didn't take long. There he was - Commander Thomas sitting at a corner table, waving at her with a big, hopeful smile.
She pulled her cap down to cover her eyes. "I hope your plan works, old hag," she hissed under her breath and made her way to the table.
As she reached it, Commander Thomas stood and, like a proper gentleman, helped her into her seat. She sat stiffly, still slightly on edge.
"I honestly thought you wouldn't show," he said, chuckling nervously as he sat back down.
Enterprise-80 tried her best to impersonate Enterprise-6's tone and posture. "Why wouldn't I come?" she replied coolly.
"Well... I've asked you out a dozen times before, and you always said no."
She paused awkwardly. "Oh... sorry. Must've slipped my mind."
Commander Thomas squinted at her, suddenly suspicious. "Wait... aren't you... a bit taller than usual?"
Her heart skipped a beat.
CVN-80 was taller than CV-6 by several meters in Carrier size, and a few inches in humanoid form.
Enterprise-80 glared at him sharply. "Commander. It's rude to comment on a lady's height. Especially on a date."
The words came out cold, calculated.
Commander Thomas visibly shrank under the pressure. "R-Right, of course. Sorry..."
He cleared his throat. "Uhh... so... what would you like to order?"
Lafayette's table
Two tables behind Arizona's, Lafayette sat stiffly, tapping his fingers nervously on the polished wood. Dressed sharply in a tailored Navy Officer's Uniform, Cap and all - he looked around the upscale restaurant with mild paranoia, half-expecting to see Lucas or any of the others watching.
His breathing was shallow, his nerves bundled tighter than a ship's mooring line.
"Who could it be...?" he muttered under his breath. "A friend? A cousin? Maybe... oh god, not a mentor?" He groaned softly and buried his face in the menu. "I have no idea..."
He tried focusing on the dishes—anything to take his mind off the unknown awaiting him. Yorktown had reassured him she'd set him up with someone friendly and tame... but that last word stuck in his brain like a splinter.
Sometimes.
"'Sometimes'? What does that even mean? Am I dating a lioness? A Siberian tiger?"
His imagination betrayed him, thinking an images of Wild Sharp-Fanged Catgirls with frowning face ad had a face of disgust.
Lost in thoughts of feline whiskers and claws, he didn't hear his name being called, multiple times alarm clock in the morning.
"HEY...! HEY—YOU!"
Startled, he looked up and nearly knocked over the table in surprise as he jolted on his seat.
Standing in front of him, cheeks flushed red like overripe tomatoes, was Hammann. And not in her usual rigging, either—she wore a fitted dress that somehow managed to scream both adorable and terrifying at the same time.
"Are you... lost or—?"
"I'm your date, damn it!!" she snapped, hands clenched into trembling fists, face ripped like tomato.
"Wait—WHAT?!" he shouted, almost knocking over the salt shaker as his whole body tensed.
Hammann flopped into the seat across from him not gracefully, not composed, just sat. Like a cat claiming its territory. She jabbed a sharp finger at his chest, fangs showing in her gritted expression.
"Listen here," she growled, "I only agreed to this because of Sister Yorktown, got that!?"
Lafayette bobbed his head like a broken bobblehead, her fingertip pressing dangerously close to him like a sharp knife.
Hammann crossed her arms, chest puffed with defiant pride as she leaned back. Her furrowed brows, twitching ears, and visible fang made her look like an angry oversized kitten holding the line between "tsun" and "dere" with a sharp eyes and frowning brows.
Lafayette exhaled a long, pitiful sigh and looked toward the celling. "Out of all the shipgirls... why you?"
He turned his eyes back to her and managed to mutter, "If Yorktown said... you'd fill in for her tonight, then I guess... I'll go along with her plan."
He awkwardly slid the menu across the table toward her. "Order whatever you want. Just think of it as my treat."
Hammann snatched the menu, her frown unwavering as she began scanning it like it had personally wronged her. Despite the lingering edge, she hadn't stormed off—small victories.
Lafayette, trying to play it cool, raised a hand and flagged down a waiter.
The date had begun, unusual with all the tension.
Arizona's Table
"Is this seat available?" she asked, her voice soft and monotone.
Arizona glanced up, his gaze meeting the figure casting a shadow over the table. He was surprised by who stood before him.
Sheffield draped in a sleek black dress that revealed just enough of her back to raise eyebrows was an unusual sight in a place like this. Her attire both surprised and puzzled him. He hadn't expected her, especially not like this.
"Quite unexpected for you to show up here," he said, maintaining his usual calm.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Same goes for you."
"Well then... have a seat," he gestured toward the empty chair across from him.
Sheffield sat down with graceful precision, her movements efficient, almost surgical, yet elegant. Arizona kept one ear tuned to his target, his eyes still on her.
"I was expecting someone new to assist me on this mission," Arizona muttered, casually swirling the drink in his glass.
"Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth wants this mission to succeed," Sheffield replied, accepting the offered glass of wine. "Any failure would stain the crown... and her image."
"She's a monarch. She can bury it under bureaucracy and a little power play."
"No."
That made him pause.
"If word got out," she continued, "your infiltration would be wasted. The stem would cut off its branches before we ever reached the roots. Then we'd be back to square one—only now, the ones we're watching would know they're being watched."
"That just makes it an easier game for me."
Sheffield raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine. "How so?"
"She could give me the order to eliminate them as I trace the root."
"That's not the deal," Sheffield said firmly, her tone sharpening. "Her Majesty wants brilliant people - not corpses. Treacherous as they are, she wants them caught... alive."
"Guess this mission's about to drag on - like this night," Arizona muttered, refilling his glass.
"So," he asked, casting a sideways glance, "any other Maids I should be expecting on this mission?"
"No," Sheffield replied flatly. "Just me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Short on staff now?"
She didn't blink. "Only Edinburgh and I know your identity within the Royal Navy Maid Corps. Per the agreement Her Majesty signed, your status remains classified. Exposing it would complicate future operations... significantly."
She took another measured sip of wine before continuing.
"As for the staff—there are more of us. They just aren't capable of handling this kind of task."
Arizona let out a long sigh. "Yeah... knowing the Maids, I figured. Would be a real operational problem watching them tumble around like some... trope out of a bad anime."
Sheffield smirked, barely. "You're not wrong."
Bar counter
Lucas nursed his bottle of beer, too absorbed in conversation with the bartender to notice the soft rustle of silk beside him. Someone had taken the seat next to his—quietly, without a word.
Out of habit, he gave a casual glance to his side, then nearly spat out his drink.
A woman in a stunning kimono adorned with delicate flower patterns sat next to him, her poise regal, her presence gentle but commanding. His gaze briefly passed over the faint hint of dog-like ears poking through her short gray hair... and then he saw her face.
"Maya??" he blurted in disbelief.
JS Maya turned toward the familiar voice, her own eyes going wide. She had barely noticed Lucas in his Service Uniform, assuming he was just another Army Officer relaxing at the bar. But now? She blinked, just as stunned as he was.
"Lucas??" She echoed, her voice a perfect match in shock.
In perfect synchronization, they pointed at each other with their fingers and said, "What are you doing here?"
Lucas held up a hand. "Wait—ladies first."
JS Maya took a moment to recover, then calmly ordered a glass of white wine from the Bartender. She gently swirled the drink, taking a small sip before responding.
"I just got back from a mission," She said, relaxing slightly. "Some of my colleagues told me I needed a break. St. Louis and Wales recommended this place—they said it was a good spot to unwind and clear your head."
Lucas gave a nod, lifting his beer with a knowing smirk. "Yeah, sounds like something they'd say."
She glanced sideways at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "What about you? Why are you here?" she asked, pointing playfully at his chest.
Lucas grinned, that familiar cocky spark in his eye. "I'm here for a fight."
JS Maya blinked to confirm. "A fight? Lucas... this is a Five-Star Restaurant, not your typical rowdy dive bar."
"Yeah, yeah - I know," He replied, waving it off. "But c'mon. They serve drinks, there's women, and there's always some punk who can't handle either. Fistfights aren't planned, Maya. Marines either find trouble, or become the trouble itself."
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You Marines... always chasing chaos."
"Damn right we do," He said, proud and unapologetic.
JS Maya let out a soft laugh, her earlier tension easing away. "Well then... good luck finding it."
Lucas lifted his bottle. "Kampai."
JS Maya raised her glass in return. "Kampai."
The two clinked their drinks gently and began chatting like old friends—stories of past missions, Funny encounters, and narrow escapes. Their conversation flowed easily, like no time had passed since their last meeting.
But peace never lasted long.
A few minutes in, a Drunken Lower-Rank Officer stumbled toward the bar, his gait sloppy, his manners nonexistent. He swaggered up beside Maya without so much as a greeting, breath reeking of cheap whiskey.
"Hey there, miss..." he slurred, leaning far too close. "Me and the boys over there think you should join us at our table."
Lucas didn't say a word. He was watching—calculating, like a trained Killing Machine his eyes move.
JS Maya didn't respond. Her body stiffened, skin crawling at the man's clear intentions. Her expression froze. She was trying to stay calm, but Lucas saw the shiver run through her. He silently watched, jaw tightening.
Then it happened.
The man its mind intoxicated with liquor reached out, and touched her rear.
JS Maya gasped sense the unexpected groping, her entire body recoiling her breath hitched. Her skin prickled with cold dread, her kimono trembled.
*Crack!*
Lucas was already on his feet and quickly grabbed the man's hand in a crushing grip and slammed his head down on the polished counter with a bone-jarring thud. Blood splattered faintly from the man's forehead as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Lucas turned to JS Maya immediately, wrapping an arm around her as she sat frozen at the counter table in shock. Then his gaze shifted toward the drunkard's table.
His expression turned deadly. He glared at the remaining group—a death glare so cold, so razor-sharp, it cut through the alcohol clouding their judgment. Then, with a deliberate motion, Lucas reached under his Uniform Coat... and produced a handgun. He didn't aim—just held it down by his side. But the message was crystal clear.
"Hey," He said voice booming without breaking eye contact. "I think your drunk buddy here just hit the curb."
The remaining men froze, then slowly got up and carefully lifted their unconscious friend from the floor. Blood still dripped from the wound as they dragged him toward the exit in total silence, disappearing into the night.
Lucas exhaled and turned back to JS Maya, only to realize something was wrong. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her hands trembled. She wasn't speaking.
"Maya?" he said, voice softer now. "Hey, are you alright?"
No answer. Her eyes stared blankly ahead as she hyperventilated.
Lucas gently pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. "It's alright. I'm here," he whispered. "Nothing's going to touch you. I promise... I won't let that happen again."
His hand rested against her back, slowly patting in a calming rhythm. JS Maya clutched his uniform tightly, her breathing still ragged—but after a few more seconds, the trembling eased. Her tears began to fall quietly.
Lucas motioned to the Bartender with a slight nod. A glass of water slid across the bar moments later at the Bartender's swift move.
As JS Maya began to calm down, Lucas loosened his embrace, giving her space to breathe.
"You okay now?" he asked again.
"...Y-Yeah," she whispered her voice still trembling. "I'm alright."
She reached for the glass and drank, her hands steadier than before. The cold water in her throat seems to calm her down at the tension.
Lucas offered her his handkerchief. "Here." She took it and dabbed her tears away, cheeks still wet and red with emotion.
Lucas turned to the Bartender. "Hey, those assholes, do you know them?"
The Bartender let out a tired sigh. "Yeah... they've been coming here for four days straight. Always drunk, always harassing women. Never thought they'd try something that bad..."
He glanced at JS Maya. "You're lucky, miss. Your boyfriend was here." He said with a curved-up lip.
JS Maya's eyes widened and she turned away, covering her flushed face with the handkerchief.
Lucas burst into laughter. "Hahaha—nah, we're not like that, buddy." He then slid a generous tip across the counter.
The bartender smirked. "Ah... I see," he said, collecting the tip with a knowing smile.
Enterprise Table
Enterprise-80 heard a sharp "slam", followed by a "thud". She turned her head quickly, just in time to catch the sight of a downed Officer being dragged away by his colleagues—judging by their behavior, a bunch of rookies.
Her gaze shifted again and settled on Lucas... who was now holding a hyperventilating JS Maya in a gentle embrace.
'What are those two doing?' she thought, tilting her head slightly.
"Oh, those guys? Bunch of rookie officers," Commander Thomas commented beside her, taking a sip of his wine. "They just got assigned here four days ago."
He muttered under his breath, out of her ears "...Damn Rookies."
Enterprise-80 glanced at him and pressed a button on her phone, subtly starting a recording.
"Is it always like this?" she asked casually.
"Most of the Senior Officers here know how to behave," Commander Thomas replied. "But ever since these fresh ones arrived, they've been stirring up trouble. Making life hell for the rest of us who've been around longer."
"I see..." Enterprise-80 muttered, her mind flashing back to her old world. 'Rookie officers are still dicks, no matter the world.'
Commander Thomas continued, unaware of her recording. "There was even news last night a Shipgirl reportedly put ten of them in the hospital. Broken jaws, busted ribs, the whole nine yards."
Enterprise-80 blinked. "Who?"
"Eye witnesses say it was a Modern Kansen. Someone named... 'Laffey,' I think?" Enterprise-80 nearly spat her drink.
"Those bastards are lucky they ended up in the hospital and not the morgue," she muttered instinctively.
Commander Thomas looked at her, stunned for a moment. "What was that?"
"Oh! Uh—nothing. Please continue," she said quickly, waving it off with a smile.
Commander Thomas shrugged and leaned back. "Anyway, this isn't new. Whenever a batch of overconfident Rookies show up, they always get schooled. Texas, Nevada, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Maryland, West Virginia—they've all delivered a few reality checks in their heads."
He topped off his wine. "And these rookies are only adding to the problem. After the problem with Sakura Empire diminished, those assholes fill-in. My job now is to keep an eye on these lower ranks and make sure they don't drag this whole base into disgrace."
Enterprise-80 processed the information with a thoughtful nod. "I see... Is that why you invited me here? Just to have someone to talk to?"
Commander Thomas paused, lowering his glass. "No," he said with a small smile. "I asked you out for a regular date. Nothing more, nothing less."
"...I see."
Her eyes wandered the room, checking if anyone had noticed her despite the disguise. That's when she spotted Arizona—dressed in an immaculate Royal Navy Officer's White Uniform, seated two tables away with an odd pairing.
Sheffield.
Queen Elizabeth must've been dead serious about rooting out whoever was undermining her reign if she'd sent an espionage specialist like Sheffield... even if her taste in clothing left much to be desired. Enterprise-80 understood instantly—Arizona's presence wasn't a coincidence. And neither was his choice of dinner companions.
But what nearly made her spit her drink out... was seeing Lafayette.
He was seated a table over, out on a date. That wasn't surprising - what was shocking was that he wasn't panicking or shy. He was talking normally, acting like an actual adult instead of the awkward, anxious mess he usually was around older women, or just girls.
She couldn't help but smile at his step in life.
Lafayette glanced nervously at his wallet as if it was screaming in pain to all the expenses as Hammann pointed toward the most expensive buffet item on the menu, pouting with stubborn confidence. Lafayette didn't plan for the whole buffet – and his allowance was crying.
Enterprise-80 stifled a curved lip.
Commander Thomas noticed her sudden expression and leaned in. "Is something the matter, Enterprise?"
"Oh—no, nothing. I'm just... tired, that's all," she replied with a polite smile.
'Dear God... please don't let any idiot provoke those two bozos into a fight...' Her thoughts screamed as her eyes darted toward Lucas currently in the exact spot where trouble brewed like morning coffee.
And to her horror, Lucas had already delivered a textbook knockout to a lower-ranking officer. Now Lafayette was also here, if he got dragged into a fight? This wouldn't just be hell. It'd be WrestleMania battle royal ... or worse—a full-on shootout.
Then came the bombshell.
"I... I asked you on this date because I love you," Commander Thomas confessed, cheeks red. "I've wanted to tell you for a long time, Enterprise. Since the first day I met you. You've been on my mind—every single day."
Enterprise-80 froze. Her mind scrambled for a way to keep her CV-6 disguise intact. 'Think, think, think—come on, Enterprise! How do I dodge this while staying undercover?'
"...Oh..." she said at last.
"...Oh???" he repeated, confused.
'Great. Just great. Nailed it, Enterprise. Totally ruined it,' she thought, deadpan.
Commander Thomas chuckled nervously, misreading the moment. "Oh ... Yeah, I know. It's kinda unexpected... coming from me of all people, right?"
"Y-Yeah... a bit," she replied, her inner monologue growling. 'She already knew it, because you always do watches over her around the base? Yeah. Not that surprising.'
He shifted in his seat, clearly bracing himself. "There's something else... another confession."
That caught her attention. She leaned in slightly, curiosity piqued. "Alright, I'm listening."
Commander Thomas downed his glass of wine in one go, his hands trembling. He took a breath.
"I also... love the other Enterprise."
Enterprise-80 raised an eyebrow as she casually sipped her wine. "Oh."
Not exactly new to her. Love letters flooded her inbox daily. So knowing the Commander's predicament wasn't that a surprise to her.
"I just... I don't know what to say," Commander Thomas mumbled, clearly unraveling. "I admire her—the way she commands a fleet, her presence, everything about her..."
He rubbed the back of his head. "Every time I see you, I think of her. Hell, I even mess up my reports write her hull number instead of yours..."
Enterprise-80 kept her poker face on. She watched him unravel like a man who had opened his heart only to find a bomb inside.
"When I look at you right now, it's like seeing her. Honestly... from far away, I can't even tell the difference anymore."
"Oof... that's rough, buddy," she said, taking another sip of wine.
Commander Thomas blinked. "Wait... that phrase..."
He stared at her in disbelief. "That's something the other Enterprise says..."
Enterprise-80 smirk, as her cover was blown by the Commander's mortified face. She undid her hair, tying it back into a familiar ponytail. Then she reached for her cap, placing it snugly on her head with a knowing smile.
"I'm listening... Commander~."
Commander Thomas's eyes widened. He gasped, grabbing his chest like he was about to have a heart attack, beads of sweat dropping like waterfalls.
"Please... don't tell me...?"
*Camera close-up to his mortified face*
"Yup. It's me," she leaned in cheeks rested in her hands. "USS Enterprise CVN-80." She said with a playful smirk.
Commander Thomas stood up so fast he nearly knocked over the table. His face drained of color, and his breathing became ragged. Then without any hesitation—he turned and bolted out of the restaurant like he was being chased by a Siren.
Enterprise-80 casually waved him off. "Well... there he goes." She said, watching him uses the Warp-Drive. She motioned for the waiter, holding up her empty glass. "Refill, please."
The entire restaurant had gone quiet, everyone staring at her now-abandoned table. Enterprise-80 looked around the establishment as the crowd all eye on her. Trying to salvage his dignity, she made some believable excuse.
"Don't worry, he just got called back to the office."
The crowd seemed to buy her little diversion and went back to their meals. The chatter and clinging of porcelain sounded.
Right then, Frigate Belfast walked in through the entrance. As Commander Thomas passed over her in a full sprint like in a Warp, he almost and nearly bumped her over, she paused in confusion before continuing inside.
Inside, she spotted Enterprise-80 waving her over. Seems like she was noticed at the entrance.
Without reacting to the stares and whispers of the crowd, Frigate Belfast calmly walked to the table and took the empty seat where Commander. Thomas once seated.
"...Why are you wearing her clothes?" she asked, tilting her head at the odd way of her choice.
"Long story short," Enterprise-80 sighed, "I got stuck in her date."
Frigate Belfast gave a tiny smirk. "Oh? I see. Well then... tell me everything."
~One hour later~
Lucas and JS Maya were walking toward the residential area of the Base. Streetlights cast their glow along the sidewalk, creating a quiet rhythm of light and shadow.
The accident from a moment ago still lingers, Lucas still looked wired-eyes darting like a Marine on foot-patrol, scanning for hidden IEDs. But every now and then, his grip softened as he held Maya's hand. It was subtle. But it was there.
Up ahead, on their way they saw two figures stumbling out of the Eagle Union and Royal Navy dorms.
The other one had injury.
Lucas raised a brow with a smirk. "The hell are you two doing coming outta those dorms?"
Arizona and Lafayette shared a look and back to the two.
"You first?" Lafayette asked, his cheek bruised, uniform wrinkled like he'd rolled down a hill.
"Nah, nah. You go. You're the tiny one," Arizona replied, his Navy Office Uniform dress jacket slung casually over his shoulder.
Lafayette groaned, hands raised in defeat. "Fine. After my date with Hammann, I walked her back to the Eagle Union Dorm. That's how you're supposed to do it after a date, right? Chivalry and all?"
"Wait—Hammann??" Lucas blinked in surprise.
JS Maya gave a small smile and patted him in the head. "That's sweet. Escorting her like that."
"You dated Hammann?!" Arizona laughed. "That cat's like an air-raid siren with legs. She's even more sensitive than any Motion Detectors and Alert Systems installed in the damn White House. That's an achievement, my guy."
"You got balls," Lucas added.
Lafayette scratches his head. "Well... I didn't really plan to date her or anything, but a date's a date. And I can't say no to Yorktown."
Lucas squints at him, noticing the bruise on his right cheek. "By the way... what the hell happened to your face?"
Lafayette sighs, scratching the back of his head again. "Well..."
Eagle Union Dorms, earlier that Night. After walking Hammann home, Lafayette stood in the dim hallway. The lights overhead flickered like a prologue something out of a horror movie.
Then movement. A shadow behind him. Glowing red eyes. He turned fast, breath catching in his throat.
There she was.
Laffey-459. Her figure barely lit, her eyes glowing like some kind of terminator. The flickering lights cast a cold, creeping shadow across her face.
"Why were you with her?" she said. Flat. Monotone. But menacing.
"L-Laffey, it's not what it looks like—"
"I've seen enough."
*SMACK*
Back in the present, Arizona and Lucas are doubled over, laughing their asses off.
"No way," Arizona wheezes. "You got punched by Laffey-459... because she saw you with Hammann?"
Lafayette just groans and mutters, "Yeah... she thought I was cheating."
Lucas wipes a tear from his eye, still grinning. "Man, that's rough. But honestly? Kinda deserved."
He then glanced at Arizona. "What about you, man? How'd your night go?"
Arizona took a drag from his smoke, exhaled slow. "Classified. But... kinda fun, somehow."
Lucas blinked. "Wow. That's... lame."
JS Maya didn't even look surprised. "I guess even you can't take a break from work, huh."
Arizona gave a small smirk. "Well... I wasn't alone."
That made everyone pause. Their heads turned toward him like missile guidance locking on.
Arizona shrugged. "Had some company. Not the kind I expected. Sheffield was... surprisingly tame tonight. Still cold, obviously."
Lucas leaned back with a grin. "Well damn, congrats. You found your match. You two are both weirdos anyway."
"We're not that weird. I mean... maybe? We've got similar vibes. Cold, harsh, sharp-edged, but were not that weirdos. Maybe? Damn, being a 'Silent killer' types do stir some feathers."
"Sheffield isn't weird," JS Maya said defensively, "she's just... always like that."
Arizona gave a side glance, memories creeping back in. 'She went commando (No Undergarments) at Sakura Empire. You think that's normal?'
He didn't say it out loud, but the unintentional flash was still burned into his brain like a cursed JPEG.
He cleared his throat. "Anyway. I'm walkin' a thin line. Disguised myself as a Royal Navy Officer tonight. It does raised some brows with the Royal Navy Maid Corps. An Officer and a Maid... Not exactly subtle."
Then he shifted gears, looking between Lucas and JS Maya. "Enough about me. What about you two? You look like you had a good time."
"Yeah," Lafayette grinned, nudging Lucas in the side. "You two look cozy."
JS Maya instantly turned red. "Oh—no! You've got it all wrong. We were just... walking home!" She waved her hands frantically, trying to fan away the embarrassment.
Lafayette and Arizona exchanged a look. That classic "oh we're gonna tease the hell out of them" expression.
Lucas groaned. "Seriously? We just bumped into each other at the Five-Star Restaurant. Pure coincidence. We walked back together. That's it."
Arizona raised a brow. "Really, dude? You're a damn Marine. You expect us to believe nothing happened? You cracked a Rookie Officer's skull earlier tonight for getting too handsy. You even pulled a gun."
Lucas shrugged. "He deserved it. And no, nothing happened. I treated her with respect."
He glanced at JS Maya. She turned redder and quickly looked away, avoiding eye contact like her life depended on it.
Lucas sighed, checking the time. "Anyway. It's late. We should head back."
Arizona stepped aside, gesturing to the path like a maître d'. "Lovebirds first," he said with a smirk.
"Seriously, dude...?" Lucas muttered, unimpressed.
~a few moments later~
As the group walked back toward the dorms, they came to a sudden stop. Blocking the path were twenty men—armed with pipes, bats, and bad intentions. Leading them was the same guy Lucas had slammed face-first into the restaurant counter hours earlier.
Lucas blinked. "Oh shit. I thought you were asleep." He said sarcastically at the one Rookie Officer he gave a quick nap.
. "Looks like he brought backup." Arizona sighed, not bothered body count.
"I'll stay with Maya. You guys handle this." Lafayette said, quickly sliding behind JS Maya like she was bulletproof.
Arizona grabbed him by the collar. "Nope. Time to man up, coward."
"I'm just a kid!" He retorts.
Lucas cracked his knuckles. "Alright then... who wants to fuck around and find out?"
That was all it took. No fancy monologues just pure chaos.
The alley exploded into chaos. Fists flew. Pipes swung. Bones cracked. It was an all-out brawl, no fancy moves, just raw street-fighting grit. The 20-man gang didn't stand a chance.
By the time the MPs and Port Security arrived, the scene was already over. 20 men lay groaning on the street and sprawled across the grass, every single one of them looking like they lost a fight with a battleship—and then got run over by another.
Lucas stood, shirt torn at the shoulder, flexing his sore knuckles. Arizona cracked his neck, equally roughed up but still standing strong. Lafayette had two matching bruises on his cheeks like he'd been kissed by karma. JS Maya, untouched, was calmly applying a cold pack to Lafayette's face.
And now? The four of them were called into Enterprise's Office at the middle of the damn night.
Enterprise-80 sat at her desk, one hand over her eyes, the other clutching a cold drink like it might cure the migraine she didn't deserve. The room smelled faintly of fine whiskey - leftovers from whatever drinking contest she and Frigate Belfast had gotten into earlier.
Now these four idiots were just salt in her hangover. She slowly lifted her gaze, her headache flaring with the fury of a thousand jet engines.
"...Do I even want to know?" she muttered.