Royal Isles
June 30, 1942
08:00 AM
"So... that's the Royal Isle?" Lafayette asked, squinting at the silhouette of land rising on the horizon.
"Yes. That is the Royal Isle," Hood replied, her gaze softening as she looked toward home.
Lafayette, along with several Royal Navy Shipgirls detached to the Pacific, was finally returning to Britain now that the Sakura Empire threat had diminished. His division had been reassigned to provide convoy escort against Iron Blood U-Boats and Siren submarines in the Atlantic. Currently, they were accompanying a convoy of over one hundred Liberty Ships carrying ammunition and supplies from the Eagle Union to the Royal Isle.
As they neared the harbor, Unicorn and Javelin began waving enthusiastically at the welcoming crowd. Royal Residents onshore waved back in kind, their excitement visible even from afar. Military parades were set up, and reporters buzzed around the docks. The celebration wasn't just for the returning shipgirls—it was also in honor of a rumored arrival: one of the Modern Kansen.
"Are they always like this?" Lafayette asked, flinching as he backed away from the onslaught of camera flashes and flying kisses.
Hood chuckled at the expression of pure anxiety etched across his face.
"Don't worry... they always do that whenever a fleet returns from deployment," she assured.
He glanced at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "You're sure about that?"
She nodded with a warm smile. "Positive."
Javelin tapped his back, causing him to jolt and spin around in a panic. "Don't worry! We'll guide you through the base!" she said cheerfully.
Unicorn nodded behind her with a quiet smile.
"Okay... just—please don't sneak up on me like that again," he said, still trying to catch his breath.
Hood let out a ladylike laugh, then straightened her posture and addressed the group.
"Alright, everyone, listen up. Don't get distracted by the reporters' questions stick to your orders."
Within minutes, the shipgirls began disembarking. Battlecruiser Hood was instantly mobbed by a flurry of Reporters and Photographers, desperate for interviews and headlines. She gracefully descended the gangplank prepared by the harbor Manjuus, maintaining her regal composure amid the chaos. Military Police and Harbor Police formed barriers to control the media surge.
Lafayette followed behind Hood, shielding his eyes from the constant bursts of camera flashes.
Hood turned briefly to check on him. "Are you alright, Sir Lafayette?"
"Yeah... but these flashes are way too bright."
"You'll get used to it," Javelin reassured him.
Unicorn added, "Yes. I used to be afraid of them too. But Big Sis Illustrious helped me."
He nodded, then looked to Hood with more determination. "I'll be fine. I can handle this."
As their boots touched solid concrete, a man in a crisp Royal Navy officer's uniform stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully.
"It's good to see you again, Lady Hood."
"The pleasure is mine, Commander Laurence," Hood replied gracefully.
She then gestured beside her. "This is our guest—Sir Lafayette."
Lafayette extended his hand, trying to suppress the twitch in his eyebrow. "You can just call me Lafayette. Pleasure to meet you, Commander."
Cmdr. Laurence accepted the handshake with a firm grip. "Likewise, Sir Lafayette."
"Lafayette is enough," he said quickly, masking his irritation at being called 'Sir'.
Hood caught the subtle tension in his face and offered him a quiet, understanding smile. "We should get going. Prime Minister Churchill is expecting us at 10 Downing Street."
"Right this way," Cmdr. Laurence said, gesturing toward a parked black 1940s staff car. A squad of Royal Navy Maids opened the doors with professional elegance.
Lafayette mumbled to himself, "Maids? Shouldn't knights be doing this sort of thing?"
Hood heard him and responded without turning.
"You see, Sir Lafayette, Maids or Light Cruisers handle VIP escort duties. Knights, or battleships, are deployed in frontline combat. They're currently elsewhere, securing the coasts. For now, the Maids are sufficient as our security."
"...I see."
Javelin, Unicorn, and the other shipgirls boarded a separate vehicle bound for the Royal Navy's main base and Dormitory. Meanwhile, Laffey-459 sat beside Lafayette in his car, and promptly fell asleep the moment the engine hummed to life.
The motorcade cruised through the streets of London for nearly an hour. Citizens gathered along the sidewalks, waving Eagle Union and Royal Navy flags in celebration. Word of the Eagle Union's Modern Kansen had clearly spread far.
Lafayette looked out the window in disbelief. "I didn't know I was this famous..."
Hood smiled faintly. "Well, the news of the Modern Kansens defeating an entire Siren fleet - including an Arbiter. That news spread like wildfire across both factions."
Cmdr. Laurence leaned in, lowering his voice to a hush. "Is it true? About the Submarine named Arizona? Her Majesty's compiled report described him as an Efficient Operator... but also a cynic. Then there's this Denver—she's apparently quite adept in espionage missions. Her scoreboard is off the charts."
Lafayette blinked, caught off-guard by the question. "Uhh... I haven't read Her Majesty's report, but—yeah. I'd say half of that's true."
Even Lafayette couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine when he thought of Arizona's unsettling ability to vanish without a trace beneath the waves only to reappear behind enemy lines, leaving wreckage in his wake. And Denver? Her erratic pattern of movement meant no one ever saw her coming until a Siren vessels was already sinking.
Cmdr. Laurence exhaled slowly, clearly disturbed. "So... the report was right. He really is a capable agent."
"Yeah..." Lafayette nodded. "You could say that."
The car slowed, finally arriving at 10 Downing Street. Swiftsure was waiting at the curb and opened the door for them. Lafayette gently nudged Laffey-459 awake. They stepped out, followed by Hood and Cmd. Laurence.
Standing at the grand entrance was a disheveled man in a suit holding a half-smoked cigar and a sharp-eyed woman in a grenadier officer's uniform.
Lafayette froze and whispered to himself under his breath. "Winston Churchill..."
Royal Navy Dormitory
Javelin stared blankly at the sky, her hands resting on the windowsill. Her eyes had been distant ever since they'd left Pearl Harbor.
Unicorn, seated beside her with a plush bunny in hand, finally broke the silence. "Is something wrong, Javelin?"
Javelin blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "Oh, sorry, Unicorn. It's nothing. I was just thinking... about Ayanami. I wonder how she's doing since we left her back in Pearl."
Unicorn gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. Everyone in Pearl is good friends with her. I'm sure she's doing just fine."
Kansen Dorm - Azur Lane Base, Pearl Harbor
Lucas was halfway underneath a heavily modified 1940s hotrod - well, what used to be one. The roof had been sawed off, its passenger capacity increased with extra bench seating welded to the rear, and the whole engine had either been rebuilt or outright replaced with a brand-new metal 3D-printed block. A turret-style machine gun mount now sat dead-center, like it belonged there the whole time.
Lucas grunted, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Wrench?" he called out, extending his hand blindly from beneath the chassis.
A soft voice answered as a tool dropped into his hand. "Wrench, desu."
Lucas paused mid-motion. "...Maya?" he asked slowly.
The voice didn't match. Sound robotic and devoid of emotion also out in the pitch.
He quickly slid himself out from under the car and sat up only to see a familiar figure sitting nearby in seiza, calm as ever.
"Ayanami? What are you doing here? Where's Maya?"
Ayanami looked up at him, unblinking. "Maya-san is busy organizing her second sortie this week. She asked me to assist you with fixing the car," she said in her usual deadpan delivery.
Lucas stared for a moment, unsure if this was a prank or not. "...Oh-kay."
He slid back under the hotrod, holding out his hand again. "Alright, next one long socket, 14mm. Kinda looks like a shiny bullet casing."
Ayanami handed him something completely different than he asked.
"Nope. That's a ratchet."
"...This?" she offered another.
"That's a spark plug."
"...This?"
"Okay - yes. That's the one. Thank you." He chuckled awkwardly and went back to connecting the driveshaft.
A few minutes later, footsteps echoed outside the garage. Frigate Belfast appeared, arms crossed, expecting a regular maintenance check. What she saw instead stopped her dead in her tracks.
The car she and Enterprisep-80 had purchased a modest collector's item was now a half-apocalyptic ride with extended seating, exposed roll bars, and a literal machine gun turret installed in the center like it was a battlefield taxi.
Frigate Belfast's eye twitched. "What in God's name are you doing?!"
Ayanami turned around with her usual calm. Lucas rolled out from under the car again, wiping his hands on a rag and leaning against the fender.
"This was all per your direct orders: increase the passenger capacity, replace or upgrade the engine, and reinforce the axle to handle the extra weight."
Frigate Belfast pointed furiously at the gun mount. "Yes, I do remember! But what the hell is that?!"
"Oh. That?" Lucas looked over his shoulder. "That's for security purposes – of course."
"Security purposes?!" Frigate Belfast pinched her temple and sighed hard enough to summon smoke. "Maybe we should've just bought a damn Willys Jeep..."
Lucas smirked. "Hey, I thought fancy people liked hotrods. So—boom. Here's a ride."
"Classy people?" Ayanami tilted her head, clearly puzzled by the new moniker.
Lucas nodded. "I'm talkin' about the Royal Navy."
Ayanami blinked. "Oh. I see." She still didn't.
Frigate Belfast gave up. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the driveway, climbing into the base's JLTV complete with a mounted CROWS turret, and drove off with a growl. It wasn't exactly ideal for groceries, but it could survive a warzone and a checkout line.
Ayanami tilted her head again, watching the JLTV vanish down the road. "That's a big car—desu... You can use that for grocery shopping?"
Lucas shrugged. "I mean... it's got better suspension than a 1940s car. So, yeah. Probably."
Royal Navy
Lafayette sat on a couch with Laffey-459 beside him, munching happily on a plate of cookies served by the Royal Maids. Across from them sat the Prime Minister of the Royal Navy. Winston Churchill himself.
"Another convoy escort in the Mediterranean Sea to supply Gibraltar and Alexandria?" Lafayette asked.
"Yes," Churchill replied. "Those bases are currently being modernized to accommodate larger vessels, such as the Super Carrier Enterprise. The only viable route to deliver the necessary equipment and supplies is by sea. We'd like you to escort the Cargo Ships bound for the Mediterranean."
"Well, escorting Cargo Ships through dangerous waters was my secondary mission back in my world, so this won't be a problem," Lafayette said.
"Thank you, Sir Lafayette."
"But... there's one issue." Lafayette raised a finger.
"Oh? What seems to be the problem?" PM Churchill asked, raising an eyebrow.
"My weapons and division are sufficient to repel a first wave attack... but if surface combat turns into close-range engagements, I'll be overwhelmed."
PM Churchill gave a reassuring smile. "No need to worry—we'll dispatch two Battleships or Battlecruisers to reinforce your division by tomorrow."
"I think that would be enough," Lafayette nodded. They shook hands. "Thank you for the warm welcome."
"No, I thank you for delivering the blueprints for the infantry weapons," PM Churchill said.
Indeed, Lafayette's mission wasn't just escort duty. His secondary objective was to deliver blueprints for automatic weapons, anti-tank rockets, and some aerospace technology.
As he turned around, he called, "Come on, Laffey."
Laffey-459, still working on the cookies, looked up lazily. "Laffey is still eating."
Lafayette looked back at PM Churchill, a bit sheepish. "Can I...?" he pointed to the remaining cookies on the table.
PM Churchill chuckled, lifting a glass of beverage - chuckling. "Of course, take them. I have my own."
"Thank you, Prime Minister." Lafayette grabbed the plate of cookies and Laffey-459 by the arm - and began walking toward the exit. One of the maids opened the door for them, blinking as she saw Lafayette carrying a plate and gently dragging a sleepy Shipgirl.
As they walked down the hallway, Officers, Politicians, and Shipgirls alike stared as Lafayette passed, dragging Laffey-459 and balancing a plate of cookies.
Hood turned as she heard the footsteps. "Ah, Sir Lafayette! How is—" she paused mid-sentence, catching sight of his current situation. "Oh..."
"It went well," Lafayette said casually, glancing at Laffey-459 who was still nibbling on a cookie.
Cmdr. Laurence appeared and gestured to Swiftsure. "Swiftsure, please give Lafayette a paper bag for the cookies."
"As you wish, Master," Swiftsure bowed and disappeared for a moment, returning promptly with a paper bag. She transferred the cookies and handed it to Laffey-459, who hugged it protectively.
They exited the estate and boarded a car, heading toward the Royal Navy Dormitory to rest after their long journey and meeting. An hour later, they arrived.
The Dormitory was a luxurious structure, drawing everyone's attention as their vehicle pulled in. Shipgirls mostly Destroyers, since the Cruisers and Battleships were deployed peeked from balconies and windows.
"Can this place get any fancier?" Lafayette muttered sarcastically. "What is this, Buckingham Palace?"
"Well, Her Majesty does live here," Hood replied.
"Wait... I thought she lived in Buckingham Palace?"
"She resides here as the fleet's flagship. His Majesty the King lives in Buckingham Palace."
"King George the battleship... or King George the human?"
Hood burst out laughing. "The human, of course, Not the battleship."
Lafayette scratched his head. "Sorry, my bad... got confused between the two."
As they talked, Cmdr. Laurence approached with a maid walking behind him. She wore a cat-eared headband and had tiny fangs showing as she smiled.
"Sorry to keep you waiting outside. Security's been tighter lately after the Iron Blood espionage incident."
Lafayette mumbled, "So, enemy spy activity is increasing. They must be onto our next operation..."
"Oh, by the way," Cmdr. Laurence added, "I'd like to introduce you to Cheshire. She'll be your personal maid appointed by Her Majesty herself."
Cheshire stepped forward, curled her hands into mock paws, and gave a playful teasing, "Meow~ Master... I'm Cheshire, at your service."
Lafayette jumped. "Did she... just... meow?!"
Hood and Cmdr. Laurence chuckled at his expression.
"I don't like this one." Laffey-459 flatly said, cookie in mouth.
"All right, that's enough, Cheshire," Cmdr. Laurence said. "You're making him nervous."
"Yes, Commander~" she replied with her usual mischievous tone.
The Dormitory Gates opened. Inside, maids and shipgirls gathered, some having tea parties and others chatting in the garden.
Lafayette spotted familiar faces waving to him. Unicorn and Javelin sat under a parasol, waving him over.
"Hey! We saved you some seats!" Javelin voice boomed cheerfully, pointing to two open chairs.
As he approached, Cheshire moved to pull the seat out for him.
"Uhh... I think I can do that myself," he said.
"No no~ A maid should help her Master every time," she said with a sly smirk.
Lafayette's thoughts raced. I've got a bad feeling about this...
Laffey-459 causally sat – munching her cookies
Alps Mountains - Sardegna/Iron Blood Border
A Steam Train thundered through the snow-covered cliffs, its engine chugging against the crisp Alpine air. Red flags fluttered along its length, each marked with the Iron Cross. The Cargo Cars rattled behind it, hauling steel towers, antenna parts, and cables the kind of cargo that raised questions, even among the crew.
Inside the Passenger Cabin, the warmth of the coal stove clashed with the chill of suspicion.
"So... escorting cargo now, Agir? Is that really your excuse?" a woman with long twin-tails and a gold cross on her cap narrowed her eyes.
Across from her sat Agir, lounging casually in her seat. Her silver hair and devilish horns gave her an almost mythic look especially in contrast to the uniformed seriousness around her. She gave a lazy smile.
"Ja. Herr Bismarck ordered me to see this delivery through. Sardegna requested it. I'm just the muscle," she said with a playful shrug.
"Funny how we weren't informed," Peter Strasser snapped.
"It was a sudden assignment. Not everything goes through the usual channels these days." Agir's tone was light, teasing.
"You little—"
"That's enough," a deep, calm voice cut through the rising tension. Friedrich der Große stepped into the car, her imposing figure and calm confidence quieting the room. "Herr Bismarck values this mission's secrecy. Only a handful of us were briefed."
"And yet it's public enough to send you?" Peter Strasser muttered, directing at Agir.
"Peter." Friedrich's tone was firmer this time.
Köln, out of the presence – spoke for the very first time. "It was deliberate. Only a handful were cleared to know. This operation is classified above our own."
Peter Strasser blinked. "Köln?" She glanced sideways. "When did you—?"
Köln adjusting her glasses "I've been sitting behind Agir this whole time. You just ignored me."
- Köln exist, yet forgotten-
Agir finger on her lip, smirks. "I thought that silence was a personal choice."
Friedrich took a seat across from them. Köln sat beside her. The train gently rocked on the rails.
Köln adjusted her glasses (again), spoke. "The truth is, we believe someone's been tapping into our undersea cables. That's why the briefings have been kept analog and... discreet."
Agir smirked. "See? Told you it wasn't personal."
Peter Strasser crossed her arms and looked away with a grumble.
A trolley squeaked across the floor. Mainz rolled it forward and began setting down mugs of coffee. "Coffee?" she said sweetly, maybe too sweetly.
Peter Strasser took a mug without comment. "So Herr Bismarck changed the plan again?"
"Nein," Friedrich said as she sat across from her. "The plan remains. We're here to assist the Sardegna Empire against Azur Lane. But paranoia runs deep these days... and rightfully so."
Köln nodded. "Agir and I are here to observe. If Azur Lane makes a move in the mountains or targets this tech, we need to report it immediately."
Peter Strasser arched a brow. "Observe? With those horns? Subtle."
Agir chuckled, tapping one horn with a fingernail. "I have my tricks."
The others exchanged skeptical glances. None of them had ever seen her without them.
Before Peter Strasser could retort, the cabin door slid open, the cabin door slid open. A cold gust slipped in as Ulrich von Hutten entered, her long black coat gothic dress, trailing behind her and her small crimson horns.
"We're twenty minutes from the Sardegna station. Prepare for disembark."
"Danke, Ulrich," Friedrich replied with a nod.
Sardegna Empire Train Station
The air was thick with the cold of winter, snowflakes swirling in the chill breeze that gusted across the platform. Vittorio, Roma, and Cmdr. Marco stood in the shadows of the station, waiting for the arrival of the Iron Blood train.
Cmdr. Marco's hands were tucked deep into the pockets of his coat, his nervous energy radiating from him in waves. He kept glancing down the tracks, his mind still haunted by memories of the accident that had nearly cost him his life, Mainz and her... unpredictable nature.
Roma noticed his unease and gave his side a gentle nudge. "Don't worry, Commander. Mainz will behave this time. I've seen Friedrich's report."
Cmdr. Marco exhaled slowly, though the knot in his stomach only seemed to tighten. His thoughts, half-forming, circled around the image of Mainz.
"I hope you're right," he muttered, his voice tinged with dry humor. "Is Mainz really going to be on her best behavior?"
Roma smirked softly. "She has to be. You're not going to die on me, Commander," she added, as if trying to convince both him and herself.
Cmdr. Marco swallowed hard. 'I'm too young to die,' he thought, steeling himself for the inevitable.
Vittorio shifted her gaze to the tracks, her sharp eyes catching the distant shape of the steam train making its way through the snowy expanse. A thick cloud of white smoke rose from the train's smokestacks, the engine's mighty roar echoing against the mountain cliffs.
"Looks like the train's here," she said, her tone calm, almost detached from the tension that gripped Cmdr. Marco.
Minutes later, the train slowed to a grinding halt in front of them, its iron wheels screeching against the frozen rails. The Iron Blood soldiers disembarked first, their footsteps heavy in the snow as they began unloading the cargo with practiced efficiency. Iron Blood shipgirls followed shortly after, their tall, imposing forms cutting through the cold air like specters from another world.
Then, at the back of the line, Friedrich emerged, stepping off with an air of quiet authority. She was the last to leave the train, her dark uniform sharp against the white backdrop of snow. She paused, glancing at the assembled group.
Cmdr. Marco stiffened when he saw Mainz step off the train, her piercing gaze immediately locking onto his. The two exchanged a long, loaded look. Mainz's eyes narrowed as her lips in a thin line.
A shiver ran down his spine as he quickly looked away, his unease bubbling just beneath the surface.
Roma, nudged him sharply in the ribs. "Commander," urging him to straighten up and maintain his composure.
Cmdr. Marco recomposed himself after that quick stare-down between her and him.
Friedrich glanced at Sardinian, sensing the silent tension. "My apologies for the wait, dear Vittorio,"
Vittorio waved her hand dismissively. "No need to apologize. You've arrived just at the right moment. So, how's the cargo?"
Friedrich gave a small nod, her posture shifting slightly as she gestured toward the covered object at the end of the platform. "Come. See for yourself."
The Iron Blood soldiers moved quickly to remove the thick, tarpaulin cover that shielded the cargo from the cold. As they pulled it away, the object beneath was revealed—a towering, metallic structure that resembled a cell tower, though its design was sleek, futuristic, and decidedly unfamiliar.
Cmdr. Marco's eyes narrowed. "That's... quite an intricate design for an antenna," he remarked, stepping closer, his curiosity piqued despite his discomfort.
Friedrich rubbed the cold metal with a gloved hand, her fingers tracing the contours of the structure. "Ja, it is. This will be making its debut in combat against Azur Lane. We've been mass-producing them in the Baltic and North Seas, getting ready for the push."
Cmdr. Marco's eyes darkened, and he muttered under his breath, almost to himself, "The power to summon storms in the ocean... is now in human hands."
Friedrich's smile spread wider, more predatory, as she leaned slightly closer to him, her voice low and deliberate. "Ja. The power to command the storm... is now ours."
Cmdr. Marco swallowed hard, his voice faltering as he tried to keep his composure. "Y-Yeah..."
Royal Navy Dormitories
6:00 PM
Lafayette followed Cheshire down the hall, the eyes of the other Shipgirls following them with interest. Some tried to avoid eye contact as they passed.
Cheshire stopped in front of a door and gestured to it. "Here's your room, Master~" She flashed him a smile, her two fangs peeking out.
"Thanks," Lafayette said, reaching for the handle, but Cheshire opened the door for him before he could.
"I think I can manage," he muttered, but before he could close the door, she stopped him.
"Master, do you need me to prepare a bath for you?" she asked, tilting her head with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Lafayette hesitated. He wasn't familiar with the shower knobs here, and the thought of fumbling with the controls made him nervous. "Uh, sure. Just prepare it for me."
A few minutes later, the bath was ready. Lafayette moved toward the door, about to leave, when he noticed Cheshire standing there, waiting.
"I'm just going to take a shower..." he said, slightly annoyed.
"Oh, as your personal maid, I'm inclined to help with everything," she replied with a playful grin.
Lafayette frowned. "Even the shower?"
"Yes – meow," she added, doing that cat thing of hers.
Lafayette groaned internally. 'This is insane. A maid helping me... even in the shower?' He rubbed his temples.
"Out," he said firmly, pointing at the door.
"But, Master, I'm here to help you take your shower." Cheshire said, tilting her head in mock confusion.
"Just... get out. I can handle this on my own."
"But, Master," Cheshire insisted.
"No," he said sharply, "Just bring me breakfast and help with my work, but that's it. I don't need someone undressing me or being in the shower with me. I'm not a kid!"
"But—" Cheshire whined, clearly not understanding.
At that moment, Hood appeared in the doorway, having heard the commotion. She quickly stepped in between the two, sensing the tension. "Sir Lafayette, I apologize for Cheshire's behavior."
Lafayette sighed, his frustration boiling over. "No need to apologize. I just don't like being treated like a kid."
Hood turned to Cheshire. "Sir Lafayette values his own privacy. He doesn't like anyone touching his personal belongings or being too forward, even if they're a maid."
Cheshire blinked in confusion. "But... don't little kids need help from their maids?"
Lafayette stared at her, his eyes narrowing. "Do I look like a kid to you?"
The two locked eyes, but Lafayette found himself closing his eyes at the Maid's unique features (cat-ears and fangs). Cheshire noticed but didn't react.
Just then, Cmdr. Laurence appeared in the hallway, his voice cutting through the tension. "What's going on here?"
Hood stepped in. "It's about Sir Lafayette's privacy. Cheshire tried to undress him without his consent."
Cmdr. Laurence turned to Cheshire. "Eagle Union members aren't used to having maids. They handle their own things, like bathing and changing clothes. What you did is a violation of his privacy. Next time, just ask."
Cheshire's ears drooped, and she bowed to Lafayette. "I'm sorry, Master."
Lafayette sighed, feeling awkward at the sight of her bowing. "It's fine, just... don't do it again."
Portsmouth, Royal Navy
A US Navy Frigate sat berthed alongside the Battlecruiser Hood at one of the piers in the harbor. Armed Manjuus and UGVs (Unmanned Ground Vehicles) patrolled the area around the frigate, moving with mechanical precision. The Dockyard Workers and Royal Soldiers watched in confusion as the small, wheeled robots circled the ship.
One Soldier squinted at the UGVs, a bewildered expression crossing his face. "How does that thing work without anyone controlling it?"
The Second Soldier scratched his head. "I don't know. I'm not paid to figure that out."
A nearby dockyard worker overheard them and chimed in. "That thing belongs to the new ship over there." He gestured at the frigate.
The two Soldiers exchanged glances. "What's it for?"
"I don't know," the Worker replied with a shrug. "It's been circling around that ship, back and forth, non-stop."
"How do they control it?" the First Soldier asked, genuinely curious.
"I don't know. Ask one of those Manjuus." He pointed at the Heavily Armed Manjuus stationed nearby.
The first soldier frowned. "Nope, I ain't asking that."
Meanwhile, at the edge of the harbor, hidden among the trees, two figures in makeshift Ghillie Suits were observing the scene through binoculars.
The man with a distinct German accent spoke first, his tone skeptical. "Looks like it has fewer rotating radars on top than most warships."
The second figure, with a Latin accent, nodded. "Yeah, and what's up with those square shapes on the ship's superstructure?"
The German man's gaze hardened as he studied the ship. "How can this under-armed ship strike fear into our U-boats?"
He didn't wait for an answer, his eyes narrowing as he spotted something crucial. Manjuus were methodically loading an RUR-5 ASROC Launcher with Missiles, the entire process slow and deliberate. Each ASROC missile was carefully removed from its protective casing and placed into the launcher.
"Is that...?" The Latin-accented man's voice trailed off in recognition.
The German man's eyes flicked between the ship and the weapons. "Yeah. That's the weapon the U-boats were terrified of, based on their description on the weapon. We need to report this to HQ. The ships are reloading and preparing for their next sortie."
With that, the two men began crawling back through the brush, their movements careful and silent. As the setting sun cast long shadows over the harbor, the forest masked their retreat, allowing them to slip away unnoticed.