Rome, Sardegna Empire
June 29, 1942
7:00 AM
After the almost disastrous operation last night, Denver-856 and her two maids looked like people who had gotten into a late-night brawl - rather than dignified servants of the Royal Navy.
"Good morning," Denver-856 greeted as she spotted her two maids, who had just woken up late for their duties.
"...Morning... Mistress..." Maid Enterprise mumbled, yawning as she rubbed her eyes.
Her glasses weren't even properly aligned, hanging precariously on the right side of her face. Scylla's hair was a complete mess, curled up in every direction from sleep.
Denver, without a word, prepared two cups of tea and handed them to her maids. "Here you go."
"Mistress Denver, we maids should be the ones preparing the tea for you," Maid Enterprise said, visibly embarrassed at being served by her Mistress.
Denver-856 waved her hand dismissively. "No, this is your reward for doing your best last night," she said, trying to ease their concerns.
Maid Enterprise suddenly turned flush, then tears swelled-up into her eyes. She teared-up from being praised.
"Whoa, I just brewed you some tea... is it really that bad?" Denver-856 said, puzzled by her maid's sudden emotional reaction.
Scylla spoke up, wiping her teary eyes. "This is the first time we've ever been praised by our own mistress."
Denver-856 scratched her head awkwardly. "Okay... if that makes you happy, then I guess it's fine."
Just then, a sudden ring from one of her submarine communications devices interrupted the moment. Denver-856 immediately stopped what she was doing and pressed the button to receive the transmission.
An encrypted message appeared, sent to her laptop. Denver-856 quickly opened it, her fingers flying over the keys as she decrypted the incoming binary code Iron Blood's latest naval cipher.
Her eyes widened as she read the message flashing on her laptop's screen: High-priority convoy, lead by one of the Modern Kansen. Iron Blood fleet on Sardegna were ordered to interception – and capture the said Kansen.
Without hesitation, she sprinted toward her bedroom and quickly changed out of her pajamas into her diving suit.
As she rushed down the stairs into the living room, she barked orders to her two maids. "Scylla, Enterprise! Watch the house for me. I'm heading out to save the convoy!"
"Wait! Mistress Denver, take us with you!" Maid Enterprise pleaded, trying to convince her mistress.
"No, we'll only get in her way," Scylla said, stopping her companion with a hand on her shoulder. "Take care, Mistress Denver."
Without wasting another second, Denver-856 bolted out the front door, sprinting toward the beach, making sure to avoid the prying eyes of the local civilians.
"Why did you stop me?!" Maid Enterprise shouted angrily at Scylla.
Scylla, calm as ever, folded her arms. "She's a Silent Killer. If we tagged along, we'd only slow her down during her hunt."
"But she's alone! She can't face an entire fleet by herself!" Maid Enterprise tried to argue.
Scylla shook her head. "Are you not listening? She's a Hunter-Killer. She sank fleets of ships back in her world. I don't think even the Iron Blood fleet can stand against her."
SSN-856 USS Denver
Denver-856 climbed down the ladder into one of the Submarine's lockout trunks. The water inside, used for Navy SEAL deployments, slowly drained as she descended.
Opening the hatch door to the next bulkhead, Denver-856 was greeted by a group of Manjuus and a Meowfficer she had previously assigned to decrypt Iron Blood's binary codes.
"How's everything?" she asked as she stepped fully inside and closed the hatch behind her.
The Meowfficer, standing at attention, gestured for her to follow. Denver-856 followed the little officer through the narrow halls to the center of the submarine, where a map of the Mediterranean Sea was spread across a table. Red and blue markers were placed across different strategic points.
The Meowfficer tapped its paw twice at the map once at the convoy's current location, and once at the Iron Blood fleet's expected rendezvous point. Drawn lines showed the Iron Blood's most likely naval routes.
Denver-856 couldn't help but grin. "You little bastards... plotting something like this behind my back."
The Manjuus and Meowfficer blushed shyly from the unexpected praise.
Denver-856 knelt down and gave them each a quick head pat, affectionately ruffling their fur. "Good work. I'm proud of you guys."
Standing up, she turned toward the control panel. "Alright. Set course toward the Iron Blood rendezvous location."
The submarine began its dive toward operational depth, silently slipping into the ocean depths. USS Denver surged ahead at over 30 knots — hunting for the Iron Blood fleet that dared to threaten her convoy.
After the Iron Blood fleet regrouped at the designated rendezvous point. 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 focused, straining their ears — and then they heard it: the distinct sound of cavitating water at high speed, slicing through the ocean unnaturally.
"What's up with those two..." Peter Strasser said, raising an eyebrow at their sudden stiffness.
"Let them be, we have our target in our hands anyway," Friedrich der Große said calmly. "Are we being followed?"
"Nein. No planes nor surface ships in the area," August von Parseval reported, her recon planes circling above them, providing aerial cover.
"Gut, that means our operation is a success," Friedrich announced with a slight nod.
"Wait, isn't that... TORPEDO!" the two Cruisers shouted suddenly.
"Torpedo?" Peter Strasser echoed, confused - and then everything exploded.
Without warning, a thunderous explosion erupted under, her. Mainz was hit directly, a plume of seawater shooting up into the air from the underwater blast. The force of the explosion knocked her out instantly, her body thrown back like a broken doll.
"MAINZ!" Peter Strasser cried out in horror.
Both Mainz and Lafayette floated unconscious above the ocean's surface, their forms bobbing on the rolling waves. The Iron Blood Shipgirls immediately shifted into ASW (Anti-Submarine Warfare) formation, moving with sharp urgency to counter the unknown predator lurking beneath.
"Peter, any sign of torpedoes?" Friedrich asked, her voice tight with anticipation of the next attack.
"Nein. No sign of torpedo trails or submarines in the area," Peter Strasser said, her Aircraft sweeping the surrounding waters, searching in vain for any trace of a Submarine.
"What about Mainz? Are we going to leave her like that?" Ulrich von Hutten asked, glancing nervously toward the floating Cruiser.
"She's not going to sink, she's only down. We need to prioritize this underwater threat first," Friedrich said, her jaw clenched.
"Are we facing a group of Submarines?" August von Parseval asked, frowning as her planes continued their patrols.
"Nein. I didn't detect any acoustic signatures of Submarines... are we even fighting a submarine?" Agir muttered, doubt heavy in her voice.
The eerie silence, broken only by the crushing sound of the waves, tightened like a noose around them. The unknown predator casts a shadow, without ever showing itself, was sowing fear and anxiety among the surface ships.
"Agir, did you detect it?" Peter Strasser asked, sweat beading on her forehead from mounting fear.
"Nein," Agir said grimly, her sonar screens still blank. A heavy, grim expression was plastered across her face as the predator remained invisible on her instruments.
Iron Blood had once used these tactics themselves haunting the Atlantic to terrorize the Eagle Union and Royal Navy Shipgirls.
Now, the tables had turned. The very fear they had once spread was now being weaponized against them.
They could have retreated back to Sardegna Empire, but abandoning one of their own was unthinkable. The two Iron Blood Carriers hovered anxiously, unable to spot even a silhouette beneath the surface.
"Show yourself, damn it!" Peter Strasser yelled in frustration and rage.
Without warning, another explosion erupted beneath August von Parseval. A towering column of water shot into the sky, the shockwave knocking her unconscious instantly.
"Scheiße! August is down!" Peter Strasser shouted, horror etched across her face.
"It's toying with us!" Friedrich exclaimed, losing her patience at the unseen hunter beneath them.
"Schwester, what should we do?" Ulrich von Hutten asked urgently, clenching her fists as she looked to Friedrich for direction.
Agir, heart pounding, performed a hard-turn maneuver to evade the next torpedo. But no matter how she turned, the torpedo matched her path perfectly.
The MK-48 Heavy Torpedo closed the distance with brutal precision. With a muffled roar, it exploded underneath Agir, the underwater shockwave throwing her violently to the surface, leaving her unconscious like the others.
Far below, deep in the cold depths, the SSN-856 USS Denver lurked in silence. Inside, Denver-856 herself coolly guided the MK48 Torpedo via its wire connection to her submarine. She handled the controls like a gamer playing with a joystick, eyes flicking across the monitor where the torpedo's targeting system displayed its prey.
"Boom," she said softly as the torpedo struck Agir. "Three down. Three more to go."
Above the Surface
Friedrich, Ulrich, and Peter Strasser were now in a full panic as they watched Agir get knocked down by a single Torpedo hit.
Through her rising panic, Peter Strasser began wildly dropping depth charges across the ocean in a desperate attempt to hit anything lurking beneath. Above, her Me 262 Aircraft followed her frantic orders, dumping depth charges randomly, but none of them found a target.
"Peter, calm down!" Friedrich barked, trying to rein her in before she wasted all their resources.
But it was already too late. Another violent explosion erupted under Peter Strasser. The shockwave blasted her into the air, and she crashed onto the surface, floating unconscious like the others.
"PETER!" Friedrich screamed in horror as she watched her fall.
With Peter Strasser incapacitated, her squadron of Me 262s, now pilotless, began to lose altitude. One by one, the jet bombers spiraled down uncontrollably, falling like broken toys from the sky.
Ulrich von Hutten had to dive and dodge frantically to avoid the falling wreckage. "What now, Schwester?!" she cried out, looking toward Friedrich for orders.
"Send a distress call to the Sardegna Empire - tell them our situation and exact location. Now!" Friedrich ordered, voice tight but firm.
"Are you sure, Schwester?" Ulrich hesitated for a brief moment.
"...J-Ja..." Friedrich replied, swallowing her pride.
She was left with no other choice, they were hopelessly outmatched by a single unseen underwater predator that was devastating them without mercy.
Ulrich von Hutten immediately sent out the distress signal, broadcasting their location and emergency status to the nearest Sardegnan Shipgirls.
Just as she finished, she spotted two incoming torpedoes slicing through the water towards them.
"Schwester! We need to move! Now! Schwester - SCHWESTER!" Ulrich shouted, shaking Friedrich violently to snap her out of her frozen state.
But there wasn't enough time.
The torpedoes detonated in a massive underwater blast. The shockwave threw both Friedrich and Ulrich several meters into the air before they slammed into the surface of the ocean with a heavy, sickening splash.
Both were knocked unconscious instantly.
As Friedrich's limp body drifted downward into the cold water, she opened her eyes just long enough to see it. Through the swirling currents and bubbles, she caught a glimpse of the hunter that had destroyed her fleet.
It was sleek, black, and menacing the most Advanced Underwater Killers America had ever unleashed since the Seawolf-class. The lines of the hull, the silent, brutal efficiency of its movements, it was beyond anything Iron Blood had fielded.
'That design... that shape... it's... intricate... and superior to ours...'
The thought floated sluggishly through her mind as she sank. And then, Friedrich der Große lost consciousness.
The SSN-856 USS Denver surfaced smoothly beside the unconscious Frigate. Denver-568 herself, along with a team of her Crew /Manjuus, quickly fished Lafayette out of the water using grappling lines and some floatation.
With Lafayette safely aboard, the Submarine began to cruise westward at full speed, heading toward Alexandria. Behind her, the shattered remains of the once-formidable Iron Blood strike team floated helplessly across the vast blue ocean.
The silent predator had claimed victory without ever being seen and left.
~Few moments later~
"... Hey... wake... up..."
Lafayette slowly opened his eyes as he heard a soft feminine voice calling to him. His vision cleared, blinking against the bright sun that beat down on him. Above him was that of Denver-856 – looking at him in a crouching position.
He sat up quickly and looked around. He was sitting on a metallic surface, its exterior covered in dark, rubbery anechoic tiles.
"Wait... where am I?" he muttered.
"In heaven, asshole," a tomboyish voice said from beside him.
He whirled around to see the speaker. "Denver?" he asked, still dazed.
"Yep, the one and only," she said with a cocky grin. "Good thing you woke up. I was this close to giving you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
"You were about to do what now?!" Lafayette blinked, confusion plastered across his face.
"Eh, ignore it," Denver-856 shrugged casually.
"O...kay..." he said, still trying to piece together what was going on. He glanced around the deck. "Where are we?"
"We're heading to Alexandria," she explained, placing her hands on her hips and smiling. "After I fished your sorry ass out from the N@zi bitches."
"What happened to them?" he asked hesitantly.
"The usual," she said nonchalantly, like she'd just finished some house chores.
"I... I see..." Lafayette understood exactly what she meant and how deadly serious it was.
"You should contact your Convoy Escorts. They must be worried sick about you," Denver-856 advised, nudging him.
"Right," he nodded.
He quickly grabbed a nearby field radio and began broadcasting his status. The comms exploded with a frantic chatter, worried voices came Cheshire and Javelin, but one message caught him completely off-guard.
Unicorn was unconscious, injured by a 500-pound bomb, and had been rushed to the nearest hospital in Alexandria. Laffey-459 said on the line directly, no lies. The color drained from Lafayette's face.
Denver-856 immediately noticed his grim expression. "You alright?" she asked, voice softer now.
"Yeah... just got some bad news," he muttered.
"Hmm... I see," she replied, not pressing further. She knew that look of anger mixed with helplessness.
Overhead, a PBY Catalina Patrol Plane spotted the Modern Submarine cutting through the waves toward Alexandria. The big flying boat circled cautiously to confirm the visual identity submarine below.
Onboard USS Denver, a Manjuu armed with a FIM-92 Stinger Missile almost blew the entire Patrol Plane out of the sky - if Denver hadn't intervened just in time.
"Hold it!" she yelled, pushing down the Manjuu's launcher down – out of the plans flight path. "It's an Allied plane! Don't shoot!"
Several other Manjuus holding Stinger Missiles slowly lowered their weapons, muttering sheepishly.
Above, the Catalina Pilot squinted through binoculars. "Submarine identity confirmed. It's one of the Modern Kansens," the spotter said.
"Sending information back to base," the Radio Operator added, tapping the transmission out.
The Flying Boat then flew towards the port after confirming the affiliation of the Modern Submarine.
Port of Alexandria
FFG-65 USS Lafayette sailed slowly into the port entrance, guided by tugboats and patrol craft at the entrance.
The battered Frigate was greeted at the harbor by a small group: Javelin, Laffey, Vampire. Valiant, Duke of York and a stern-looking man in a Royal Navy Officer's Uniform, standing tall at the end of the pier, waiting for him.
'That uniform... must be the Base Commander,' Lafayette thought grimly.
As the Frigate docked and the gangway was lowered, he barely made it halfway down before being swarmed by his worried escorts.
They tackled him in a tight hug right there on the gangway, before his boots even touched solid concrete.
"Where's Unicorn?" he asked immediately, voice urgent.
The girls exchanged looks and quickly led him toward the nearest hospital. Inside, Unicorn lay unconscious in a hospital bed, pale but alive. Doctors and Nurses were bustling quietly around her.
"Did you tell Illustrious about her situation?" Lafayette asked, sitting heavily beside the bed his expression somber.
"Not yet," the base commander replied stiffly. "We're being careful not to leak any information that could compromise Royal Navy operations in the Mediterranean."
"Then inform her," Lafayette said, tone sharp. "She has the right to know what happened to Unicorn."
"Sorry, but orders—"
"Tell her. NOW." Lafayette's voice cracked through the hospital room like a thunderclap, his demeanor dark and terrifying.
Everyone in the room, even the veterans felt a cold shiver run down their spines. Javelin and Vampire even yelped, instinctively backing away. Laffey-459 unfazed, just only lay her hand over his shoulders.
Valiant stepped forward with a frown. "Just do what he says, Commander. You don't want to get on his bad side."
The base commander paled and nodded quickly. "I-I'll send the transmission immediately," he stammered, hurrying out toward the nearest communications room.
The tension slowly ebbed from the air. Lafayette exhaled, his shoulders slumping.
"Sorry... for scaring you all," he said quietly, guilt flickering in his eyes.
But in his heart, the guilt was heavier. He had promised Illustrious he would protect Unicorn and now she lay here, injured, because he had failed.
"It must be hard, huh?" Duke of York said softly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You made a promise to Illustrious about Unicorn's safety."
Lafayette nodded silently, his eyes never leaving Unicorn's small, fragile figure. "Yes," he whispered.
"And I will be held accountable for this kind of fuck-up." His voice was tinged with gilt.
...
Sardegna Empire
Friedrich der Groẞe slowly opened her eyes, the bright light of the infirmary dazzling her senses. She instinctively raised a hand to shield herself as she sat up, her body protesting the movement.
"Oh, you're finally awake," the Sardegnan doctor said, helping her rise gently.
"What happened...?" she asked groggily.
"You and your friends were found unconscious, floating in the middle of the sea," he said.
"My friends...?" Friedrich turned her head, her gaze falling upon the other Iron Blood Shipgirls lying unconscious in nearby hospital beds. Her hands gripped the bed sheet tightly.
"...I see."
A sharp voice broke her thoughts. "I can't believe you let yourself be defeated by a single submarine. This isn't like you, Friedrich."
Friedrich turned toward the source and saw a woman standing at the entrance, clad in the sharp lines of an ƧƧ uniform.
"Guten Tag."
"Kommandant Erica..." Friedrich muttered.
"Good. I was starting to think you lost your memory after taking a hit," Cmdr. Erica said with a smirk. She waved the Doctor away, who took the hint and quietly left, giving the two women privacy.
Cmdr. Erica walked over and sat on the edge of Friedrich's hospital bed, folding her arms.
"Tell me. How did you lose to a single submarine?"
Cmdr. Erica was no ordinary officer. She was the mind behind the Iron Blood's evolving Wolfpack strategies. Her tactics had changed the course of many battles, adapting when flaws surfaced.
Taking a deep breath, Friedrich recounted what had happened. Her tone was serious, but the events she described sounded almost unbelievable, if it had been anyone else reporting it, Cmdr. Erica might have dismissed it as exaggeration. But Friedrich was not someone prone to flights of fancy.
"Guided Torpedoes. Silent approach. Total surprise," Friedrich summarized grimly.
Cmdr. Erica frowned. "So, they were using Acoustic Homing Torpedo... the same kind we use?"
"Nein."
"Oh?" Cmdr. Erica's eyes sharpened, leaning in slightly.
"The torpedoes were different," Friedrich said. "Agir, with all her speed and agility, should have been able to dodge a standard acoustic torpedo. But this one -," she shook her head, the memory bitter. "- this one outmaneuvered her. It chased her down and struck true."
Cmdr. Erica's expression hardened. She stood up and started for the door with sudden urgency.
"Where are you going?" Friedrich called out.
"I need to report this to HQ. If such a submarine exists with that kind of weaponry our supply lines in Africa are in serious danger." Erica stopped at the doorway, looking back.
"Thank you, Friedrich. You've just given me exactly the intelligence I needed for another secret project."
"Wait," Friedrich said.
Cmdr. Erica paused. "What is it?"
"I believe... that Submarine can also Launch Missiles."
"Ja, like what we experimented with before—"
"Nein." Friedrich's voice was grave. "It launches missiles while submerged."
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Cmdr. Erica felt a chill creep down her spine. Superior Torpedoes were one thing but missiles launched from beneath the ocean? That was something else entirely.
"Wha?!" Cmdr. Erica was taken aback, almost involuntarily.
"It was that same Submarine," Friedrich continued. "The one that devastated the entire Taranto Harbor."
Taranto Harbor
Cmdr. Erica stood in the center of the drydock, her sharp eyes scanning the battered hulls of Iron Blood Ships. Most of the vessels had suffered grotesque damage: their keels bent upwards from vicious underwater explosions.
Mainz and Agir, two heavy cruisers, lay in the drydocks, their hulls propped up for emergency repairs. Without waiting for clearance, Cmdr. Erica had barged into the restricted zone -protocols be damned to inspect the damage herself.
Walking up to Mainz's keel, she crouched down, running her gloved hand along the torn and twisted metal. The explosion hadn't ruptured the sides, where the Torpedo Defense Systems would have minimized the damage. Instead, the blast had struck the keel - a deliberate and surgical strike to cripple the ship entirely.
"This torpedo wasn't designed to punch a hole in the side," she muttered. "It was designed to snap the ship's spine."
She touched the worst of the damaged sections, her fingers tracing the brutal handiwork.
"Fascinating," she whispered, a genuine note of admiration creeping into her voice.
A sharp voice suddenly barked from behind her.
"Who goes there?!" Two Sardegnan Harbor Security raised their rifles toward her.
"This is a restricted area! Hands up, don't move!" one shouted.
Cmdr. Erica turned slowly, her expression calm and unbothered. She stood to her full height, letting the sharp lines of her ƧƧ uniform and the gleaming Iron Cross on her collar catch their attention.
"You're pointing weapons at a high-ranking officer of the Iron Blood military," she said coldly. "That's a very dangerous mistake, young men."
The two guards froze. Recognition hit them a second later and with it, panic came into their faces of as they recognized.
"S-sorry, ma'am! We didn't recognize you... we thought you were..." the security stumbled, "...someone looking for trouble."
"I understand," Cmdr. Erica said, smoothing her uniform casually. "After recent events, your nervousness is... acceptable. You're dismissed."
"Yes, ma'am!" they barked before scrambling away.
A voice from above echoed down into the drydock. "Really... using your rank to scare our security. That's very shady of you."
Cmdr. Erica looked up, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Ah, Vittorio. I thought I recognized that judgmental voice."
Vittorio Veneto stood at the drydock's edge, her hands on her hips, glaring down. "What are you doing here, Cmdr. Erica? This area is restricted."
"You are restricting me? - an Iron Blood officer... from inspecting our damaged ships?" Cmdr. Erica said mockingly.
The two locked eyes, the air between them almost sparking with animosity. Their mutual hatred was no secret.
Cmdr. Erica had always mocked Sardegna's military strength or lack there gut, and insulted their leadership. She once even mocked Mussolini's haircut to his face. Worse, she openly ridiculed Sardegnan cuisine, referring to the Sardegna Empire as the "Crimson Axis Underbelly."
Vittorio despised her. She despised her for her arrogance, her rudeness, and her endless disrespect.
For years, the two had been a constant thorn in each other's side, sabotaging attempts at cooperation between Iron Blood and Sardegna. They were like two unstable chemical elements, mix them, and an explosion was inevitable. Only one man could usually mediate when things threatened to spiral into disaster: Cmdr. Marco.
But today... Cmdr. Marco was nowhere in sight.
...
Shores of Rome, Sardegna Empire Capital
Denver-856 crept along the shoreline, moving quietly through the shadows. The capital's security had tightened considerably after the devastating attack on Taranto Harbor. Patrols were thick, the tension in the air unmistakable. The Empire was on high alert for any potential threats.
The Sardegnan Politicians and Military Brass had officially declared the attack an act of espionage, carefully avoiding the painful truth: that a single submarine had nearly obliterated an entire harbor overnight. Admitting such a humiliation would only rub salt into the wounded pride of the Empire.
After a tense game of hide and seek with the patrols, Denver finally slipped through the alleys and reached the Safe House/Rented Home disguised as an ordinary residence. Slipping through the backdoor into the kitchen, she was greeted by a familiar voice.
"Welcome back, Mistress Denver," Maid Enterprise said warmly, bowing slightly.
"Yeah, I'm back," Denver replied, quietly shutting the door behind her. "Where's Scylla?"
"Oh. She's currently on a mission."
Denver-856 raised an eyebrow. "What mission?"
"Iron Blood's Submarine Commander, Cmdr. Erica - she's inspecting the damage at Taranto Harbor and assessing their damaged ships." Maid Enterprise informed her. "The last part we intercepted from the Iron Blood shipgirls' comms."
Denver-856 held her chin thoughtfully. "So... they managed to limp back to port after all."
Maid Enterprise shook her head.
"No. They were rescued. They sent a distress signal, and the nearest Sardegna Shipgirl responded."
"I see..." Denver clapped her hands together decisively.
"Alright. Let's head out and listen for rumors."
"As you wish, Mistress Denver," Maid Enterprise said with a small curtsy, lifting her skirt slightly.
...
Next Day – Sardegna Beach, Rome
After the night attack on Taranto Harbor, Cmdr. Marco decided to take another detour from his usual mundane routine. He strolled along the beach where he often crossed paths with Mistress Dian, a woman whose aura of self-centered power was unmistakable. With his security detail trailing him, he wandered the shore, hoping that by some luck he might encounter her.
To his surprise, he noticed the same maid from before and another he hadn't yet met. Curiosity piqued, he casually approached them.
"Umm... excuse me?" he began.
Scylla stiffened slightly, and Maid Enterprise fumbled. "Ye-Yes?"
"Is Mistress Dian with you? I noticed your group and thought she might be nearby."
"Um..." Maid Enterprise stuttered, clearly caught off-guard.
"Mistress Dian is in the water, taking a swim this afternoon," Scylla answered, rescuing the situation with a calm, emotionless tone.
"I see..." Cmdr. Marco shifted awkwardly under her sharp gaze. "Umm, and you are...?"
"Sina. I'm one of Mistress Dian's maid on duty," Scylla replied crisply.
-And his name is John—
The sudden shift in atmosphere made Cmdr. Marco a little uneasy. Still, he pressed on. "Would you mind telling her I stopped by?"
But before they could answer, a ripple of movement at the water's edge caught everyone's attention.
There, emerging from the calm waves, was Denver-856 clad in a simple yet elegant swimsuit, strands of wet hair clinging to her shoulders. It gave the illusion that she'd merely been enjoying a casual swim, though in truth, she'd only just returned from a covert mission.
She strode toward the beach, sand sticking to her wet feet. Maid Enterprise immediately rose, rushing to her side with a towel, draping it over her shoulders.
Cmdr. Marco stood frozen, mouth slightly open, as the scene unfolded before him.
Noticing his stunned expression, Denver-856 smiled politely and spoke.
"Good afternoon, Commander Marco. May I inquire as to the reason for your visit?"
Snapping out of his daze, Cmdr. Marco cleared his throat. "Ah, yes... I just wanted to ask if you were available next week."
Denver-856 tilted her head thoughtfully, recalling her schedule. "Yes, I should be free next week."
He cleared his throat again, this time more awkwardly.
"Il Duce is hosting a gala next week. I'd be honored if you would accompany me as my escort and meet some of my friends and colleagues."
"Sounds fun," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of giddy excitement as part of the act, of course.
A blush crept up at Cmdr. Marco's neck as he scratched it nervously. But before the moment could stretch too long, another voice broke the tension — one they hadn't even noticed until now.
"Cmdr. Marco," came a low, calm voice.
Everyone turned, startled, to find a girl standing nearby — her presence so subtle that it was almost unnatural.
"Oh, Köln - don't scare me like that!" Cmdr. Marco said, his voice cracking. "And don't pop out of nowhere like a ghost."
- Köln, remembered yet forgotten waifu potential-
Köln calmly adjusted her glasses. "I've been with you the whole time. You simply failed to notice."
Cmdr. Marco glanced around, bewildered. "Did I?"
His security detail exchanged glances, nodding awkwardly. "Yes, sir."
Denver-856, ever quick-witted, teased. "My, Commander~ I didn't realize you were so quick to forget such potential."
"Excuse me?" Köln blinked, slightly taken aback by the comment.
"Oh, nothing — just admiring your keen observation skills," Denver-856 added sweetly.
Köln, undeterred, continued with mechanical precision.
"That's precisely why I accompany the Commander. He has a... tendency to deviate from protocol."
Denver-856 nodded with an amused smile. "Smart. I'm Dian." She extended a hand.
Köln took it, her grip firm. " Köln, Iron Blood Shipgirl."
"It's nice to see a new face here in Sardegna," Denver-856 said, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"Likewise," Köln replied, her glasses glinting in the sunlight.
Meanwhile, Scylla and Maid Enterprise silently avoided eye contact, careful not to betray any accidental recognition of their identity in front of an Iron Blood Shipgirl.
Next week's gala would be very interesting now that everything is at the menu of espionage.