Taranto Harbor, Sardegna Empire
July 18, 1942
11:00 PM
The fire at Taranto Harbor had finally been subdued—except for the fuel depot, which still burned brightly in the night like a pyre. Cmdr. Marco and the Sardegnan Shipgirls stood amid the smoke, locked in a tense argument with their Iron Blood counterparts. Without the Siren Weather Tower, their plans to suppress enemy aerial superiority were crumbling.
"What should we do now? Our means of denying their aerial assets are in ruins," Vittorio said, frustration clear in her voice.
"And what do you think Il Duce's reaction will be if this attack was the work of just one or two submarines?" Cmdr. Marco asked grimly.
"I have a feeling he won't take it well," Littorio replied, gazing at the flaming depot. "He's a man with pride... but no real confidence."
An Iron Blood soldier approached, holding out a pair of bullet casings. "Ma'am. You need to see this."
Friedrich der Große took the 5.56mm and .50 cal casings, studying them with narrowed eyes.
"This smaller round is unusual for a rifle... but the advantage is a higher clip capacity," she noted aloud.
"It's actually called a magazine, ma'am," the Iron Blood soldier corrected, holding up an M4 magazine.
"It's lighter than our STG 44s... and holds the same number of rounds," Friedrich mused.
"So they chose smaller bullets for more rounds?" Mainz asked.
"Nein," Friedrich shook her head. "It's about accuracy at range. That's the real advantage."
"No wonder we've taken so many losses. They're more accurate... and efficient." Littorio said, as she looked at their death toll.
Suddenly, a black car bearing the Iron Blood flag screeched to a halt at the harbor gate. Peter Strasser and four soldiers jumped out, moving with urgency. They didn't even park properly before rushing inside.
"Ma'am, orders from HQ," Strasser announced, holding out a sealed message.
The binary-encrypted code had taken hours to decode - too complex even for experienced Enigma operators. Transmission had been further delayed cause of the sudden change of coded to avoid Allied interception.
Friedrich opened the letter, reading it carefully. "Another mission, huh?" she muttered.
"What's it say?" Mainz asked.
Friedrich smiled darkly. "One of the Modern Kansen is escorting a convoy across the Mediterranean - bound for Gibraltar and Alexandria. They're backed by the Royal Navy. Our orders are to capture the Kansen... alive."
"Alive?" Cmdr. Marco raised an eyebrow. "How? If they're more powerful than even PR Ships?"
"Oh, dear Commander... did you forget?" Friedrich smirked. "Mainz and I are PR ships. All we need is to overwhelm their defenses. Once we breach the outer screen, it's over."
At that moment, another car pulled up—this one flying the Sardegna Empire's colors. Roma and three Sardegnan Soldiers climbed out, rushing toward the group.
"Il Duce has summoned us to the capital," Roma reported between gasps. "He demands an explanation for the attack."
Littorio sighed deeply. "Vittorio, I'm leaving the rest to you. Commander, Roma - you're with me."
"Yes, ma'am," the two replied in unison.
The three made their way to the waiting car, heading to the nearest airport in a haste for a flight to the capital.
Vittorio remained behind to assess the damage and determine what, if anything, could be salvaged after the devastating Tomahawk strike.
Friedrich leaned in close to Peter Strasser and whispered, "Contact Agir. We'll need her for this mission."
"Understood," Peter Strasser nodded, motioning for the soldiers to follow as they returned to the car.
Facing the rest of the Iron Blood shipgirls, Friedrich straightened her posture and declared. "Alright, ladies. Ready your ships and restock. Tomorrow... we hunt."
The Iron Blood Shipgirls echoed. "Jawohl!"
Mediterranean Sea
Beneath the calm surface off the Sardegna Empire, a single submarine cruised silently, avoiding the flying predators overhead.
After the devastating attack on Taranto Harbor, the Sardegnan Air Corps and Carrier Forces had been tasked with patrolling the entire ocean surrounding the Empire. Every aircraft was armed with anti-
submarine depth charges, and the bright moonlight robbed submarines of any chance to hide under the cover of darkness.
But the Submarine they were hunting wasn't an ordinary U-boat - it was America's Next-Generation Attack Submarine.
"Find anything?" Impero's voice crackled over the fleet-wide radio.
One of the escort Destroyers swiping the area with its sonar answered, frustration evident. "Negative, ma'am. No acoustic signature detected."
"They couldn't have just vanished," Impero muttered, glaring at the empty sea. "This is the area where the attack was reported. We should have picked up something."
She mumbled again under her breath. "Even the U-boats couldn't escape this fast without leaving a trace."
"Maybe the reports were wrong... and we're searching the wrong sector," suggested Vincenzo Gioberti.
"The Air Corps screwed up again!" Zara shouted from mid-fleet, throwing a full-blown tantrum. "Those Army flyboys are useless!"
Above them, in one of the Patrolling Aircraft, the Navigator glanced sideways at his Co-Pilot. "Is she always like that?" he asked.
"You'll get used to it," the Co-Pilot chuckled. "Zara always blames us whenever something goes wrong."
"Alright, enough chatter," the Pilot said with a teasing grin. "Focus on hunting that sub. If we bag it, maybe the ladies'll give us a reward."
The Aircraft's Crew chuckled at the joke, the tension easing slightly.
Meanwhile, far below the oblivious hunters, a lone submarine listened in on the entire conversation, hidden deep beneath the waves.
Inside SSN-856 USS Denver, radio chatter played quietly through the command deck speakers. The sub sailed forward at silent cruising speed, slipping past the Sardegna fleet undetected, heading steadily for the Empire's capital coastline.
Denver-856 sat in her command chair, arms crossed as she listened. "Sardegna Navy at its finest," she muttered dryly.
In the crew's quarters, Scylla and Maid Enterprise were fast asleep, exhausted from the firefight at Taranto Harbor. Manjuus and Meowfficers busied themselves around the submarine, maintaining silent running conditions.
One enthusiastic Meowfficer tugged at Denver-856's dress, suggesting with a scratchy drawing that they fire a torpedo at the fleet's lead ship to speed up their escape.
Denver considered it... but quickly shook her head. "No. Let's give them a nice wild goose chase instead."
Minutes ticked by. Thanks to her discipline, USS Denver remained undetected, gliding ever closer to Sardegna's capital shores.
Suddenly, an alert popped up on the monitor. One of their underwater probes had intercepted data from an undersea communication cable—a stream of binary code.
Denver-856 squinted at the screen. "What now...?" she mumbled, tapping the screen.
"That looks like binary code... Did anyone manage to crack it?"
The Manjuus and Meowfficers assigned to cyber-espionage operations shook their heads solemnly.
"So it's new..." Denver-856 said, frowning thoughtfully. "Iron Blood switched to binary coding this fast... Impressive."
She checked her wristwatch. "Already morning," she muttered.
Looking around the control room, she pointed at a Manjuu and Meowfficer sitting side by side. "You two stay on this. I want that binary cracked by sunrise."
The Submarine pressed forward into the glowing waters of dawn, hunting secrets no Sardegnan patrol would ever see coming.
Lafayette's Convoy Escort
Lafayette was not having a good time. He watched in mild misery as a convoy of Liberty Ships passed through the Strait of Gibraltar, feeling more annoyed by the minute - not because of the convoy itself, but because of his own escorts.
Specifically, the two Shipgirls assigned to him. They had been peppering him with random, endless questions since morning.
"Is something the matter, Master?" Cheshire asked sweetly, noticing his increasingly sour expression.
"I'm fine," Lafayette grumbled, trying (and failing) to sound convincing.
Cheshire's ears twitched, picking up on the lie instantly. "You're lying. Tell me what's wrong, Master," she said seriously, folding her arms.
~ Flashback ~
Lafayette hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before, despite the luxurious bed in the Girls' Dormitory. Cause he was in a Girls Dormitory.
Unable to settle, he wandered out onto the balcony to calm his nerves under the full moon.
"One night... Just one night here, and I still can't sleep," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
As he leaned over the railing, he noticed someone below in the courtyard. A woman in a flowing red nightgown, sipping red wine under the moonlight. Her long red hair drifted in the cool night breeze, and to his surprise, her ears were pointed, like Centaur's or Plymouth's.
Lafayette squinted. "...Is there no curfew here? And who the hell is that?" he wondered.
But then, so sudden for his sense the woman slowly tilted her head upward - and locked eyes with him for a brief moment after a cold breeze of wind run chills to his spine.
Lafayette immediately ducked down behind the balcony railing, heart pounding. From the corner of his eye, he saw her smile. A different in kind.
Two sharp fangs peeked out, the wine dripping from her lips looking horrifyingly like blood.
"Is she a Vampire?" Lafayette thought in sheer panic.
Then he remembered Lucas's golden rules for survival in situations like this:
Rule 1: You gotta be quick.
Rule 2: Don't fall down.
Rule 3: Whatever happens, NEVER look back.
Now wish yourself luck, kiddo.
Moving in slow, terrified motions, Lafayette crawled back into his room, locked every door and window, and then sprinted to the bed.
He threw the blanket over himself, clutching the pillow like a lifeline.
"It's just a dream. It's just a dream. No way that's a vampire..." he whispered over and over until he finally passed out from exhaustion.
The next morning, Lafayette was summoned to the Office. Commander Laurence led him down to the harbor where a group of Shipgirls waited.
"Sir Lafayette," Cmdr. Laurence said, gesturing toward one of the women, "I'd like you to meet Duke of York."
The woman wore an elegant Officer Grenadier jacket, standing tall and proud.
"Nice to meet y—" Lafayette began politely... but then froze mid-sentence.
It was her. The woman from last night. The woman in the red nightgown. The wine. The fangs. The moonlight.
Duke of York smiled, tilting her head playfully and pressing a finger against her lips - flashing those unmistakable fangs.
"Oh... It was you," she said, her voice silky, "watching me from the top balcony last night."
Lafayette turned pale. 'CRAP!'
~Flashback ends~
Lafayette quickly held his neck like someone was about to bite it out of nowhere. "Damn it, Commander Laurence... You said this whole convoy would be normal," he muttered under his breath.
"What's wrong, Sir Lafayette? Feeling lonely? I could give you some attention," came Duke of York's velvet voice right behind him.
Lafayette visibly quivered and instinctively clutched his neck tighter, spinning around like he was ready to bolt.
"Th-thanks for your concern! But I'm fine, really!" he said, already preparing an escape route in his head.
Duke of York let out a graceful laugh, amused by the very mortal fear in his eyes.
"Don't worry, Sir Lafayette. I won't suck your neck. I drink only pure red wine and bathe under the moonlight - it helps me conserve my strength. No need for blood sucking."
Cheshire chimed in, smiling cheerfully. "Yes, Master. Mistress Duke of York can't even suck blood unless the full moon is out."
Lafayette didn't know whether to be reassured or more concerned. "I don't know if that alleviate my concern about blood sucking."
Suddenly, a haughty voice cut through the air like a saber.
"Hahaha! You should've seen your face. You're supposed to be a man, and yet you're scared of a lady like Duke of York!"
A girl with twin tails, a royal cape, and a massive sword styled like a battleship's mast approached. The sword's handguard looked like a mast - intimidating, but also a little flashy.
"I'm sorry I didn't notice your presence earlier, Mistress Valiant," Cheshire said respectfully, bowing to the small but commanding figure.
Lafayette stared. 'So that's HMS Valiant... huh? That bratty confidence, that cape, that oversized sword... Yup, definitely Queen Elizabeth class. How'd I forget?'
He composed himself and extended a hand politely. "My apologies for the delay. I'm USS Lafayette of the United States Navy – 4th of the Constellation Class Frigate."
Valiant raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"Oh? A gentleman?" she smirked, taking his hand. "I sure to return such politeness. HMS Valiant, third of the Queen Elizabeth-Class Battleships. Pleased to meet you."
Lafayette blinked. 'Whoa. She's more poised than Queen Elizabeth herself... That's surprising.'
Duke of York gave her fellow Royal a nod. "It's been a while, Miss Valiant. How's Gibraltar? Still holding steady?"
Valiant replied with a smirk, though her voice had a hint of jealousy. "Yes, all's well here. Since my sister's too busy elsewhere, this corner of the world is mine to rule — at least for now."
"Still chasing the throne, I see." Duke of York said with a knowing smirk.
"Waiting for her to mess up. One slip is all I need." Valiant said with the typical Queen Elizabeth Class grin.
Lafayette raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Is this how Royal power struggles usually go?"
Duke of York replied smoothly, "Not quite. The selection of the next Flagship is decided by Parliament, not the Navy itself."
Lafayette raised both hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Sorry. Politics really isn't my thing."
"My apologies, Sir Lafayette," Duke of York said, placing a hand over her chest. "We didn't mean to drag you into internal Royal drama."
"It's fine," he sighed, glancing at the map table. "Anyway, back to business - Miss Valiant, where's the safest route for the convoy?"
"Our next cargo drop is at the port of Alexandria," Lafayette continued, drawing a line on the map with a pencil and ruler. "I've charted a course avoiding Sardegna Empire shipping lanes."
Valiant studied the line carefully. "Hmph... If we follow this, we'll lose at least an hour."
"Then what route do you suggest? Beside, this is your backyard, after all." Lafeyette said, his voice sounded like politics.
Valiant smirked with pride, as her 'reign' acknowledge at his small piece of sea. "Time is important, but safety is essential. I'll guide us through the fastest safe route that avoid confrontation with the Sardegnans. Leave the rest to me."
"That settled, then. We'll take the route you recommend," Lafayette said with a nod.
~ A Few Hours Later ~
Recon aircraft soared ahead, launched from Unicorn's flight deck. Spitfire flew over the sky of the glinting sun of the Mediterranean, piston engine roaring
"Unicorn here. The skies are clear," she radioed back.
"Copy that, Unicorn," Lafayette responded, eyes focused on the monitors inside the ship's CIC (Combat Information Center).
Valiant had claimed the CO's swivel chair and couldn't resist herself from spinning circles, feet swinging. "Wheee~ This is fun!"
"Lafayette rubbing his temples as he watches her lost some decorum. Could you please stop that..."
Meanwhile, the Meowfficers and Manjuus onboard were quietly quivering at Duke of York's presence. One Meowfficer brought a cross onboard knowing that they were tagging along with a vampire.
In the darkened lighting of the CIC, her eyes glowed faintly and her fangs were definitely showing at the curved of her lip.
"What's the matter, little birdy?" she cooed toward a trembling Manjuus and Meowfficers. "Something on my face?"
Lafayette slumped over the command table with a soul-drained sigh. "Please stop scaring my crew..."
Duke of York merely chuckled, amused by the chaos she casually caused. "My apologies... I just need some subtle destruction."
Valiant continued spinning in the chair, completely ignoring the seriousness of the CIC environment.
Lafayette shook his head. "Man... I miss those two bozos."
Crimson Axis Fleet
Friedrich der Große stood tall at the bow of her battleship, the wind gently tugging at her long coat. Beneath her boots, the deck bore the unmistakable symbol of her homeland — the swastika painted boldly across the steel. The ship cut through the calm Mediterranean waters like a blade.
Behind her, footsteps tapped lightly across the deck. Agir approached, dressed in her sleek summer attire - casual, yet always prepared.
"Do you really have to call me away from my secret mission... just to chase a convoy?" she asked, a touch of annoyance in her voice.
Friedrich didn't turn around. "Nein. I haven't interfered with your mission. Our task here is simple — a convoy hunt. We've been ordered to capture one of the Modern Kansen leading it."
Agir's interest piqued. "Which one? I've heard whispers about those futuristic Kansens..."
Friedrich's expression darkened slightly, eyes focused on the distant sea.
"The one that hunted down our U-Boats in the Atlantic."
Agir's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Oh... that one. The 'Shipboy' the poor U-boats ranted about in their final transmissions?"
"Ja. That Kansen."
Agir folded her arms, eyes glinting with mischief as her thoughts spiraled. "Mmm... a Shipboy, huh? I can't wait to get my hands on him..."
Friedrich activated her radio. "Peter. Report. Do you see anything in your patrol area?"
"Nein. Scout Planes report no sign of the convoy... yet," Peter Strasser's reply, her voice calm, focused.
"August, your status?"
"Nothing here either," August von Parseval replied.
Mainz's voice crackled through the comms next. "Are we sure they'll take this route? There are safer alternatives."
Friedrich answered with unwavering confidence. "Ja. If they're avoiding Sardegna patrol zones, this is the only viable corridor. We wait. They'll come."
Moments later, Peter's voice buzzed urgently. "This is Peter. I've made contact - a Spitfire is in the area."
Friedrich's eyes narrowed. "Spitfire? That's them."
She turned sharply, issuing the order. "All ships - battle stations! Prepare to intercept!"
The connection turns to Peter Strasser "Peter - send us the coordinates. We're moving in."
The Iron Blood Shipgirls surged into motion, sleek and deadly vessels cutting through the sea with synchronized menace. Above them, Scout Planes banked toward the growing disturbance on the horizon - the beginning of a confrontation that would shake the Mediterranean.
Lafayette's Convoy
"Big Brother, one of our Recon Planes was intercepted!" Unicorn's voice crackled over the radio, urgency sounded at her voice.
"Copy that," Lafayette replied, voice steady despite the tension. "All hands - battle stations!"
He glanced at the Enterprise Air-Surveillance Radar - a tight swarm of fast-moving blips was inbound.
Squinting against the sun, he could already see the silvery glints of Navalized Me 262s streaking toward them.
"All escorts — open fire!"
The Convoy's Escort Ships roared to life. 40mm and 20mm shells from Bofors laced the sky, an angry, buzzing storm of shrapnels trying to catch the jet attackers before they could strike.
Below the ongoing battle up in the sky, Lafayette's radio crackled again. "Duke, Valiant - enemy surface combatants spotted, 100 miles out!" he barked.
"We hear you," Valiant's crisp reply. "Come on, let's squash these pests."
"Agreed," Duke of York said calmly, already drawing her gleaming sword.
Moments later
At the edge of the convoy, Duke of York and Valiant intercepted the incoming threat - towering Iron Blood battleships, their riggings looming menacingly.
Facing them at the head was Friedrich der Große herself. Duke of York met her gaze coolly as they closed distance.
"My, my, Duke of York... I didn't expect to find you down here, basking in the humid Mediterranean sun," Friedrich teased, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"And I didn't expect you to be cozying up with the 'Pastas'," Duke of York shot back, her sword flashing defiantly in the light.
Nearby, Valiant squared off against Ulrich von Hutten - no further words were exchanged. Only gunfire and insults.
"Don't bite your tongue on me!" Valiant taunted as she unleashed hail with her 15-inch Guns at Ulrich.
Meanwhile, Mainz and Agir, slipping through the chaos, accelerated toward Lafayette's location. Overhead, Peter Strasser and August von Parseval harassed the escorts with relentless air raids from their Navalized Me 262 squadrons.
Lafayette braced himself. His RIM-116 Rolling Airframe Missile System spun up, locking onto the incoming jets. BOOM! BOOM!
Several Me 262s exploded in fiery blooms overhead.
Then, two fresh radar contacts popped up fast-moving. From hidden launchers aboard the convoy escorts, four Naval Strike Missiles streaked toward the surface contacts.
Mainz, seeing them coming, smirked.
"Retaliatory Shield." She activated one of her Defensive Skill.
A Shimmering Force-field materialized around her. All four missiles slammed into it with thunderous impacts - but when the smoke cleared, Mainz stood untouched.
"Holy shit! Did she just tank that?!" Lafayette gasped, stunned at the Force-field.
A second later - Agir roared, surging toward him like a dashing Lion on its prey. "Got you!"
Before she could strike, a blur of apron and cat-ears intercepted her – Cheshire on intercept.
"You're not getting near my Master!" Cheshire growled, parrying Agir's strike effortlessly.
"Go! I'll deal with her," Agir snapped to Mainz.
Mainz nodded and broke away, charging straight for Lafayette.
"Now then..." Agir turn her attention at Cheshire. "Just you and me puss in apron."
"Let see about that." Cheshire prepared a stance, her feline feature visible.
At his Enterprise Air-Sur Radar, Lafayette noticed the dashing threat towards him. His MK-110 57mm autocannon opened up - the shells hammered at Mainz, but once again, her Defensive Skill rendered the hits useless.
"Shit - she's getting closer," Lafayette cursed.
He gritted his teeth and drew his sword. No choice but to fight her at close range - where she held every advantage.
Their blades clashed violently as sparks flew – their gaze meet. Mainz gaze was precise, at Lafayette's gaze was fear and confusion.
"Not bad, kid," Mainz said, pushing him back with a heavy swing.
Lafayette disengaged, activating his ECM System to jam her targeting at longer ranges - but it was a double-edged sword. In melee, he was exposed - a Frigate against a Cruiser.
"Jamming my radar? Really?" Mainz said dryly, unimpressed by his attempt.
"Hey, you're a Cruiser, I'm just a Frigate. Give me a break!" Lafayette snapped back, grumbling internally. 'Why do women always complain?'
"We're enemies. That's all that matters," Mainz replied coldly.
At the distance, Javelin, Vampire, and Laffey-459 ducked and weaved under the raining bombs and small fire, their AA guns blazing in return.
"There's too many of them! We can't shoot them all!" Javelin cried out.
"These Planes are getting into my nerves!" Vampire shouted, snapping at the relentless bombing.
From further back, Unicorn launched all her Fighter Interceptors into the fray. Her interceptors raced to catch the Me 262s - but the jets were faster, slipping past and heading straight for Lafayette.
"Big Brother, enemy planes heading your way!" Unicorn's voice crackled over the radio warning him urgently.
Lafayette glanced up - a formation of Jet-Black Me 262s diving toward him at breakneck speed, armed with Armored Piercing Bombs.
Without hesitation, he opened fire, his 25mm Machine Gun System chattering as it tracked targets. The RIM-116 Rolling Airframe Missiles shot out with a mechanical scream, trailing plumes of white smoke as they streaked toward the intercept.
Jets exploded mid-air, smoke and fire staining the sky - but Lafayette made a fatal mistake.
He forgot about her. A blur of red and gray surged toward him. Mainz.
He turned too late. "Shit, I forgot about her."
Mainz's rigging-powered leg slammed into his gut with a "Zaku Kick". The force of the kick was strong and it sent his body flying - tumbling like a ragdoll across the ocean's surface.
She'd aimed precisely at exploiting his open flank and targeting a weak spot with surgical precision. The mission was crystal clear than the notes on binary codes: capture, not kill.
And she executed that directive flawlessly. Lafayette captured alive, means there's information they could extract.
Lafayette groaned, struggling to get to his knees in the water. His hands shook. His Rigging Systems flickered with internal damage.
He tried to stand... But the strength left him. His body crumpled, crashing into the ocean.
Mainz surged forward, catching him with her hands before he could sink. She adjusted her hold - careful not to damage his systems or body any further.
She activated her comms. "Target secured. Proceeding to rendezvous."
With a silent grace, Mainz turned away from the battlefield, dragging the unconscious Lafayette behind her like a trophy, and a threat.
Unicorn spotted the retreat. "I won't let you get away with Big Brother!" she cried, tears in her eyes.
In desperation, she launched her last wave of aircraft, emptying her hangar reserves.
But in her recklessness, she didn't notice an Me 262 swooping down - a jet under the command of August von Parseval.
BOOM!
A 500-pound bomb slammed into the ocean near Unicorn, the explosion engulfing her in smoke and debris.
When the smoke cleared, Unicorn was floating unconscious, bruised and burned, her outfit torn by the blast.
"Unicorn!" Javelin screamed, immediately breaking formation to rush to her side.
The destroyers disengaged at the jets above, they all speeds towards the unconscious Unicorn drifting at the sea.
On the front line, Friedrich der Große received the transmission about Lafayette's capture. A rare, pleased smile crossed her lips.
"What are you smiling at?" Duke of York demanded, catching the look.
"Nothing..." Friedrich replied coyly. "I think that's enough for today. I have other matters to attend to this afternoon."
Without waiting for a response, she turned her rigging away from the battle. "Ulrich, withdraw," Friedrich ordered.
"Jawohl, sister." Ulrich replied crisply, disengaging her fight against Valliant.
"Don't you run away from me you cowards!" Valliant shouted, fist raised.
Just like that, the Iron Blood Forces disengaged - retreating with chilling efficiency. No one knew what's their purpose of that attack – not a convoy raid, nor full on assault.
Duke of York's instincts screamed that something was wrong.
Her fears were confirmed when Cheshire radioed in, voice strained:
"Master has been captured! Unicorn's out cold!"
"Damn it!" Duke of York cursed, furious with herself.
She tried to pursue, pushing her rigging's engines to the limit — but it was too late. The Iron Blood Battleships had already slipped beyond radar range.
"It was a diversion all along... Their true target was Lafayette!" she realized bitterly.
"What's our next move?" she asked Valiant, forcing herself to focus.
Valiant folded her arms, thinking.
"Chasing them now would be a waste of resources. Let's finish the convoy escort to Alexandria. Once we resupply and regroup, we'll plan a proper rescue."
"Sounds good," Duke of York agreed, though every fiber of her being screamed to give chase.
At the Iron Blood rendezvous point
The Iron Blood fleet regrouped, Lafayette's unconscious body carefully at Mainz's care. He snuggled at her like a sleeping toddler on his mother's arms.
Agir crossed her arms, frowning. She can't bear watching Mainz having him.
"So that's him, huh? Didn't expect him to be so... compact." Then a mischievous glint formed on her eyes.
Mainz, still holding Lafayette firmly, gave a small nod. "He's a fighter. Didn't make it easy."
Mainz admitted, a rare note of respect in her voice.
Agir's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Mind if I keep him? I promise not to do anything too stupid," she joked, stepping closer.
Mainz narrowed her eyes, clutching Lafayette tighter, clearly unimpressed. "No."
"Aww, don't be like that..." Agir cooed, taking a step closer, her hands theatrically extended like she was ready to catch a baby bird. Her grin widened, and so did Mainz's suspicion.
Then - *Ping.*
Mainz's head snapped toward the sonar console in her rigging. She threw out an arm to block Agir. "Wait."
Agir froze, confused. "What?"
*Ping... ping...* Another sonar contact. Fast. Low. Underwater.
Mainz's voice was sharp now, her eyes scanning the readout. "Listen."
The two Cruisers stood still, silent as the wind, ears tuned to the sound.
Then it hit. The gurgling roar of cavitating water, followed by a sharp, high-pitched whine.
Agir's eyes widened. "Wait, isn't that—"
"TORPEDO!!"