Madagascar Coast Near Siren Base
6:00 PM
Archerfish, Albacore, and Flasher prowled stealthily beneath the waters along the shores of Madagascar, their torpedo tubes at the ready, hunting for any unsuspecting Siren Ship they could sink. They had been patrolling this sector since dawn, their patience wearing thin with each passing hour without a target.
"Man... this is boring; we've been here since morning," Albacore complained, her voice a low grumble through the comms.
Archerfish, equally bored by their fruitless submerged patrol, chimed in, "You're not the only one bored here; both of us are utterly bored."
Flasher, however, offered a different perspective, her voice tinged with a nervous hope. "Maybe—maybe we're lucky that we didn't run into one of the Siren Ships."
"Auuugh. Please don't pray for something like that! We really want some scores on our scoreboard," Albacore groaned, dismissing Flasher's cautious optimism.
Flasher, as always, began to whimper, her opinion once again diverging from the other two.
The other two Submarines found themselves back in their familiar role of babysitting her, trying to prevent her from making any more tell-tale acoustic noises.
"You go take care of her," Archerfish instructed, nudging Albacore.
"Why me?" Albacore protested.
"You made her cry, so it's your fault," Archerfish stated with a smug satisfaction.
Albacore grunted, reluctantly accepting responsibility for the sobbing Flasher. Time continued to pass, but the trio still couldn't find any Siren Ship to prey on.
In the encroaching darkness of the night, illuminated only by the majestic distant moon, small, dim streaks of light pierced through the ocean's surface. This provided the three Submarines, hunting beneath the water, with just enough visibility to pursue their quarry.
As they idled deep within the ocean's shadowy depths, their sonar emitted a sharp ping, signaling a detection directly in front of them.
The parting clouds above momentarily illuminated the dark depths of the ocean below. A single Siren Sub, either lost or simply conducting reconnaissance, appeared in their sights.
It was an awkward moment for the Siren Humanoid Sub, identified as a Lurker Mk-1. Archerfish, Albacore, and Flasher were momentarily stunned, simply staring in disbelief at the unexpected encounter with a Humanoid Siren lurking so close.
The Lurker Mk-1 moved its rigging, preparing to fire its torpedo. The trio of Submarines, in a sudden surge of surprise and shock, instinctively squeezed the triggers of their Submarine Rigging.
These WW2 Submarines were designed for maximum firepower, equipped with six torpedo tubes at their bows and four more at the aft.
Nine Torpedoes surged from the three Submarines, speeding relentlessly towards the lone Humanoid Siren. Huge plumes of water erupted on the ocean's surface as the nine torpedoes detonated simultaneously, obliterating the Siren Sub in a massive BOOM.
However, the immense underwater explosion dealt significant blows to their own ballast tanks. To prevent themselves from sinking further into the ocean's oppressive darkness,
Archerfish, Albacore, and Flasher all immediately surfaced, gasping for air, all of them having been injured by the powerful underwater blast.
"*Cough-Cough* Damn that Siren," Archerfish cursed, coughing violently as water rushed into her throat from the concussive force of the underwater explosion.
"That was too close for us to use a torpedo against a Submarine," Albacore added, also coughing.
Flasher, on the other hand, was lying prone on her Submarine Rigging, weeping uncontrollably. She had been utterly spooked by the Humanoid Siren appearing so suddenly in front of them and had accidentally squeezed the trigger mechanism of her rigging.
A few minutes later, a small fleet of ASW Surface Ships rapidly approached them at a swift pace of over 25 knots.
Frigate Belfast and her division of ASW Cruisers emerged into the moonlit expanse, visible now as the thick clouds began to disperse.
"Hallo... is everyone alright?" the flamboyant Seattle called out to the three Submarines, who were essentially sunbathing in the moonlight on the deck of their Submarine Rigging.
Flasher, seeing them, immediately burst into tears once again. She had just managed to compose herself moments ago, but now she was crying tears of joy, feeling safe at last.
Frigate Belfast gently scooped her up like a baby, comforting her to prevent further crying. "There, there..." she murmured, singing a soft lullaby to calm the distressed Submarine.
After Flasher calmed down, Frigate Belfast turned her attention to the other two. "Does everyone have injuries?"
Archerfish and Albacore shook their heads, indicating they hadn't received any substantial damage from the underwater explosion.
"Alright. Get onboard. We're heading back to William's Ship to check you guys for any damages that may not be visible to the naked eye," Frigate Belfast instructed.
USNS William Infirmary
Lafayette was in the infirmary of the cargo ship, visiting a friend who was lying in one of the medical beds while the Medical Staff conducted check-ups and scribbled medical notes.
The atmosphere of the room, which should have been friendly and harmonious, was instead permeated by a menacing aura that screamed murder, directed at one of the supposed visitors.
Lafayette and the others in the room knew exactly where that aura was emanating from and where the thick tension was forming. Right beside him stood Laffey-459, her obsessiveness reaching a point where she could only be described as... Yandere. Her two glowing red eyes were locked onto Albacore like a heat-seeking missile on its target.
Albacore felt no comfort from the soft bedsheets of the infirmary or the otherwise calm atmosphere, primarily because Laffey-459 was overtly asserting her territorial claim over the man to her left.
Saint Louis, who served as Lafayette's personal Paladin (or rather, babysitter), often found herself not defending Lafayette from danger, but instead caught in the middle of this particular drama. She frequently positioned herself as an intermediary, especially when situations escalated, knowing "the Season" for Laffey-459 and how things could quickly spiral out of control if not properly monitored.
"Miss Laffey, you're at it again," she reminded her, subtly urging her to respect boundaries and maintain control.
Laffey-459 visibly calmed down, as if pulling a lever, causing the oppressive tension in the room to dissipate and allowing everyone to breathe normally again.
"Sorry.... Laffey hates someone being close to Lafayette," she said in her usual nonchalant tone.
"Thank god... she calms down," Albacore breathed, genuinely thankful for the easing tension in the air.
"Sorry about that.... I've told her many times to stop being so obsessive. I hope you understand," Lafayette apologized, a hint of weariness in his voice.
"I—I understand your 'misery'," Albacore said, subtly hinting at Laffey-459.
Siren Research Facility
"So this is the where Siren created their Minions?"
Enterprise-80 asked, standing before the vast columns and rows of Chamber-Incubators. Inside, Siren Fetuses and a few fully developed Siren Minions floated eerily within the cylindrical glass chambers.
William once again began his scientific lecture, delivered in a manner that could lull anyone without a clue in science and biology into a deep sleep, as if they were being sung a lullaby.
"Oh boy, here we go again," Bremerton groaned under her breath as she heard William launch into his discourse.
"Give the guy some credit; he's been studying Siren Tech to give us some understanding. I've also heard he's always inside his Lab, doing some research about the Sirens," Baltimore defended him.
The man truly devoted all his time and efforts to uncovering the Sirens' weaknesses and their origins. The discovery of the Siren Minion and its subsequent DNA analysis had filled him with an almost childlike enthusiasm about their creation and how they were made.
Now, standing at the very place of their genesis, the excitement he had contained after that discovery finally overflowed, which was precisely why he was now delivering a lecture on the Siren Minions.
Enterprise-80 raised her hand, gently interrupting William from giving her the entire lecture on Siren Minion Biology. She merely wanted a few pieces of information, but William had launched into a full-blown academic presentation.
"I think that's enough lecture on their Biology. I'm just asking if they can intermingle with humans."
William, being a man with extensive knowledge in this particular field, responded confidently. "It is highly unlikely. They might possess some features similar to humans, but intermingling with humans is not possible without chemically altering the human sperm, which has virtually zero chance of survival under those conditions."
"So artificial production is their primary means of multiplication?" Enterprise-80 inquired.
William nodded again. "Yes, ma'am. That's how they manage to achieve their high numbers."
"So an altered human sperm only works on them, but without the Siren Machinery's help, they couldn't reproduce that much?" Bunker Hill-76 spoke, diligently writing down William's words.
"Precisely what I said," William confirmed.
Enterprise-80 steered the conversation back on track. "Regarding the Siren Minions, do we have countermeasures we can use to efficiently counter them?"
"Nah, just shoot 'em with our standard weapons. They're basically Stormtroopers in accuracy and Cannon Fodders in a firefight. So, yeah..." William dismissed the threat with a shrug.
"What about the other Facilities that the Sirens use?" Enterprise-80 pressed.
William immediately reverted to his normal, serious self. His enthusiasm about the Siren Minions subsided at the mention of the other Facilities.
"About that.... follow me," William said, leading them towards the main console, the Siren System that controlled the entire Siren experimentation.
Fortunately for them, thanks to the swift actions of Skipper's Boys, most of the critical files had not been deleted by Strategist Mk-II.
William pressed a few buttons, and the screen displayed the locations of the other Siren Facilities.
Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 were not particularly surprised by the isolated locations, places humans would rarely dare to venture.
Baltimore and Bremerton gasped, their mouths agape at the sheer remoteness of the other Siren Facilities.
"Tha—That many?!" Both Sisters exclaimed in shock.
Enterprise-80 focused her attention on the two Siren Facilities on the Southern American Continent.
One was situated deep within the Amazon Forest, closer to the Amazon River, far away from any human settlements, though the potential danger to human settlers still existed. The other was located at the southern tip of Continental America, closer to the Magellan Strait, a region known for its unpredictable weather and treacherous navigation for ships.
Bunker Hill-76 spoke, her voice contemplative. "Those two Siren Facilities are inside the American Continent. If this were our world, they would be bombed to oblivion if detected via satellite."
"America doesn't have to invoke the 'Monroe Doctrine' on these Sirens to bring about annihilation by raining bombs; their very existence is too dangerous for humanity to be left unsupervised. Is the use of excessive force on such parasites justified?" Enterprise-80 added, her expression grim.
The Monroe Doctrine had been revised in the middle of the 21st Century, right in the midst of the Cold War with China. This doctrine was once again revised to counter China's growing influence in Latin America and strengthen US influence in the Southern Continent.
The revision of the doctrine had raised some eyebrows among the global community, especially in the south. But the President of the United States of America elected that year had uttered a statement that remained etched in the minds of every UN Council member:
'If you have a problem with my foreign policy, I dare you to enforce it with your military.'
That was the statement that stuck, as America rapidly ramped up the Military Industrial Complex's production of the Arsenal of Democracy.
"Yes. That would be the exact same scenario if this kind of parasite built such facilities in the Americas. But how are we going to handle this new problem? It's spread throughout the world and across major continents," Bunker Hill-76 said.
"You're right, those Siren Facilities are widespread throughout the globe. We can't just send Shipgirls and Foot Soldiers into these isolated places."
Bunker Hill-76 checked her tablet, speaking as she scrolled through the files. "JS Maya is out of action as she received substantial damage, and she'll take another two or three months to recover. Arizona, on the other hand, has a more tremendous problem with his Submarine Hull and Ballast-Tanks; the underwater nuclear explosion ruptured a few of the pipes. He's currently available, but his Sub is not."
"That just leaves seven Ship Combatants. William is out of the fight as he's a Cargo Ship, and Denver is in the Sardigna Empire conducting espionage, so we have no option but to split this task."
William chimed in, his voice serious. "And that's the big issue: if we separate into small numbers... we might not know if any of the Arbiter Class would pop out of nowhere and ambush them."
Baltimore raised a hand and voiced her own opinion. "Why not just bomb those Siren Facilities? Conducting Air-Strikes would be more efficient than sending Ground Troops."
"No," Enterprise-80 disagreed with that plan. "There might be some human lives inside those Siren Facilities, so conducting Air-Strikes is not an option. Boots on the ground is what we need to confirm if the place was abandoned or operational."
"Not just that," William cut in, the screen then showing the other Siren Facilities in the cold tundra of the three continents. "Greenland has a Siren Facility hidden in the snow, in the south. Antarctica is where the last known transmission from the tracker that Skipper's Elite-Team had used ceased. And then this —he pointed at Siberia— I think our Russian friends are hiding something from the Alliance."
Everyone's eyes widened, their mouths agape, to find out that the Northern Parliament was hiding something in their backyard tundra.
Enterprise-80 and Laffey-200 were not particularly shocked. Enterprise-80 already had an inkling of what was happening inside Stalin's backyard.
Laffey-200's inherent distrust of Russians remained; even in this world, she was not surprised that their Russian Counterpart would engage in such an act.
William continued. "Furthermore. The Siren Facility seems close enough to one of the Gulags in the area."
"No wonder they were all quiet with all that's going on in the world! They were always silent to the point that the other Nations, and even the Crimson Axis Alliance, are both having suspicions about them!" Baltimore exclaimed in anger.
"Calm down there, Baltimore.... That's a political water we can't just storm that Siren Facility inside the Northern Parliament... politics should be the one in play. That is political water we can't traverse it," Enterprise-80 said, addressing the fuming Tomboy.
"Miss Enterprise is right, that is indeed political water. The Diplomats in Moscow should be the ones handling this matter," Bunker Hill-76 added.
"I think we need to report this to Washington D.C. This finding should be known by the higher-ups. Those Siren Facilities that are close to any of the Eagle Union Territories and Royal Navy's Colonies should be taken care of by their own forces... those that are isolated and hard to reach will be left to us."
She turned her attention to William. "I want this place cleared of all the staff we could salvage and reverse-engineer. Those Siren Fetuses should be delivered to R&D for extensive research, along with the Executor Class Sirens corpses."
William complied. "Yes, Ma'am."
After Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 left the area, he ordered the Soldiers and Manjuus to gather all the Siren Equipment and the Chamber-Incubators to transport them to the Cargo Ships docked at the Siren Base Pier.
Azur Lane had just 'Tactically Acquired' an entire base's equipment along with the Siren Experimentation. The whole situation was reminiscent of 'The Fall of Afghanistan,' where all the captured equipment was towed away by its new owner, but in this case, the new owner was the Azur Lane Alliance and the former owner was the Sirens.
The Chamber-Incubators were covered in tarps to hide their contents, and the Soldiers transporting them were given strict instructions under a high protocol: not to divulge any of the secrets they had discovered inside the Facility. Secrecy was paramount, as any leak to the public would cause widespread outcry, especially from those who had lost or had missing family members.
They planned to leak this secret only if all the Siren Facilities were cleared and destroyed. The possibility of human life inside each of the Facilities was high, given that they had found one man completely drained of his life force.
The remains of other men who had suffered the same fate as the man they rescued were also found, not in what one would call a graveyard, but rather a pit filled with decomposing bodies.
The other good news was their discovery of another Facility that resembled a cage or cell, with all its contents intact. Inside were severely malnourished men who looked strikingly similar to the images of men from Concentration Camps.
Many of them were barely able to move, lying still. Others teared up as they saw fellow humans and some yellow chickens with rifles entering and breaking the chains that bound them in place.
"What are you planning now, Ma'am?" Bunker Hill-76 asked as they both walked towards the Siren Main Base Facility.
"The storming of each of the Siren Facilities will require us more manpower than we intended. The only way we can conduct such an operation is through Spec Ops, and that's what we are currently lacking. Foot Soldiers and Shipgirls can handle the other Facilities closer to friendly territories. I'm sending Lucas and his Division along with Skipper's Boys," she explained.
"Why now?"
"Skipper and his men overheard a Siren conversation and mentioned that certain Siren Minions could dominate Ground Warfare. And I want those future threats to be eliminated."
"Understood. I'll inform Lucas and his Division along with the Elite-Team of Manjuus about their upcoming mission," Bunker Hill-76 said, not waiting a moment longer to change direction.
Enterprise-80, on the other hand, continued towards her destination, where the Union Army and Royal Army were gathered around a specific spot, surrounded by commotion.
She made her presence known, and everyone respectfully parted, creating an avenue for her to reach the center of the commotion. In the middle stood the Light Carriers: Princeton, San Jacinto, Wasp, Long Island, Bogue, and bini-bining Bataan.
In the very center of the Light Carriers was a single Siren Minion on its knees, both hands cuffed. She was motionless, showing no reaction to the men who were hurling slurs and insults at her.
Game recognized Game, and the men were there to "compliment" the losing side of the Game. They greeted the defeated opponent with slurs and middle fingers, the entire scene akin to a video game match where men cheered at their victory and shamed the losing team.
The Shipgirls were there to prevent the men from acting on their thirst for revenge. All of them literally wanted to obliterate this lone Siren Minion survivor.
The Geneva Convention had no provisions for them, so there were more men surrounding her, eager to stab her multiple times.
"What's with all the commotion!" Enterprise-80 shouted at them, ordering them to stop the harassment and the throwing of pebbles at the lone Siren Minion.
Both Soldiers from the Eagle Union and Royal Navy immediately snapped to attention as a Superior Rank was present at their location. The once-noisy men were now standing perfectly still, their mouths shut tight.
"All of you... dismissed," she commanded, and every soldier scattered, returning to their boring foot patrols in the area.
After the men dispersed, she turned her attention back to the Light Carriers. "Is this the only Siren Minion left?" she asked.
Wasp responded as the leader of the group. "Yes, Ma'am, this is the only one we managed to capture, as all of the Siren Minions inside the Facility were killed by the men.... The way they conducted the operation was like a total massacre; they didn't even stop after it collapsed on the floor."
"I see..." Enterprise-80 murmured, understanding what those men felt about revenge. Besides, this was their own doing.
They had trained these men for war and made them hungry for blood. They had trained them to be bloodhounds in preparation for the European Mainland Invasion. She couldn't blame them if they wanted to spill the blood of the last Siren Minion to survive the onslaught.
She then noticed a large lump on the head of the Siren Minion, the size of the lump clearly did not come from the small pebbles the Soldiers had thrown at her.
"What's with the lump on her head? Those were not made by the pebble stones that the Soldiers threw at her?" She pointed.
Bataan raised a hand, holding a slipper (a Weapon of devastation) in her other hand. "Umm... I did that," she said, a bit embarrassed by her actions.
"Well, she knocked her out with that slipper before everyone could shoot it. William told us to spare one for research. So we spared this one, but everyone got a sight of her and started targeting her. We stopped them from shooting, and that's how we ended up here."
Enterprise-80 rested both hands on her hips as she took a good look at the lone Siren Minion for a moment, then spoke. "Take her to New Jersey's Ship, Cmdr. Elena will take hold of this lone survivor. Her Battleship Division should be enough security if it tries something suspicious."
"Yes, Ma'am," Wasp responded, respecting the authority.
Princeton and San Jacinto dragged the Siren Minion by her feet, but before they could reach the pier where the battleship was docked, Enterprise-80 spoke again, giving another order.
"Before you leave her in Cmdr. Elena's hands, inform William about the lone Siren Minion's whereabouts. She still needs to be checked by him before we can get her into R&D's hands."
"Yes, Ma'am." They then shifted their attention to the two who were 'good' at that specific job.
Long Island noticed everyone's gaze was on her and Bogue. "W-Why us?!"
Wasp, with a smirk, replied, "This is the only thing you two are good at. Now go."
USNS William McLean
Lucas stood at the railing of the Cargo Ship's Superstructure, looking down at the ship's hull as the waves of the Indian Ocean slammed against the hull's waterline.
His personal version of peace was disrupted as a man in desert camo and a vest walked towards his location and joined him in his quiet moment.
"How's your ship?" he asked, a humorous but serious tone in his voice.
Arizona managed a faint smile, though behind it was a somber undertone. "Ruptured."
"Damn." Lucas was surprised that Arizona hadn't sunk with that foolish stunt of detonating a nuke underwater in a danger zone. He also noticed the hidden pain in Arizona's eyes.
Arizona was now the one to ask, "How is she?"
"She seems fine. The recovery will take two to three months if she takes the medication and gets some rest for the recovery," Lucas said, still feeling miserable after what had happened to her.
"Hope she recovers soon. I have a feeling that we will be busy tomorrow," Arizona said as he looked up at the starry sky.
"Sheffield, how is she?" Lucas inquired, noticing Arizona's somber tone.
Arizona let out a deep sigh. "Still cranky. I told her that she needed rest, but she brushed off her condition as nothing to be of concern." He sighed again. "It was an awkward time for us; the other maids were looking at us like we were something else."
Lucas curved his lips into a smile. "Why not go with it... you two seem to be getting along."
Arizona gazed up, looking at the stars. "It's complicated. We may have chemistry... but we're colleagues at best."
"I don't know about that... only time will tell if you accept what your heart wants."
Arizona glanced at him. "Well, look at you—a love guru for some reason."
Lucas broke into laughter, followed by Arizona. The two laughed freely and engaged in friendly conversation. They weren't allowed to get drunk on the job, but a few cans of beer would be sufficient for the two to enjoy these few moments of camaraderie before it was disrupted by a new order.
...
CGN-76 USS Bunker Hill
In the Nuclear Cruiser's Briefing Room, everyone took their seats as Bunker Hill-76 briefed them on the upcoming mission to the Antarctic Continent in the southern globe. Their next target was the Siren Facility in the snowy continent, where the last transmission from the tracking device had cut off.
Everyone felt as though their rest and recuperation had been prematurely ended. They hadn't expected another mission to be assigned to them after the hell they had just endured.
"Oh come on! We're too tired!" Cruiser Denver cried out.
"I'm not paid enough to do another mission," Columbia wailed in misery.
Montpelier simply lay flat on the table, utterly devoid of energy, unable to clear her mind from the overwhelming fatigue.
Birmingham sat motionless, too exhausted even to blink, complaining and letting out soft whimpers. She was completely drained by the fatigue.
"Great. My feathers will turn into popsicles the moment I step on that frozen tundra," Skipper voiced his own difficulty.
"Manjuus are not made to walk over snow and ice; we're not Penguins for that," Private added his complaint.
"I'm pretty sure we'll be popsicles as we walk halfway to our mission there, or not even reach it, because of some snowstorms that might appear out of nowhere," Kowalski offered his analysis of the mission's challenges.
Lucas rubbed his face, trying to cool himself off from the sheer ridiculousness of the mission they had just been given. "Why...? Why us? Is there any other division you could have sent on this mission?"
Bunker Hill-76, with no time or space to empathize with their exhaustion, responded in her typical serious, secretary-like voice. "This is the utmost important mission... we cannot just let this one slide."
She then pointed her laser pointer at the projected map of the Antarctic, specifically where the last transmission of the tracking device had ceased. "There is something important we cannot let the Sirens get hold of—a particular Siren Minion that is capable of Ground Warfare."
Everyone straightened their posture and raised their heads to look at the map at the mention of the particular Siren Minion capable of Ground Warfare. Their earlier grumbling ceased as they now felt the palpable tension of the next mission.
"If the Sirens gain hold of such capability... our next amphibious assault on each Siren Base would be far more bloody than our current casualties. We're lucky we're not taking casualties on the magnitude of Iwo Jima and Okinawa."
She then turned and faced them, concluding her explanation of the current circumstances. "According to Skipper and his boys, the Siren Minion mentioned was different from the other Siren Minions."
Skipper, being Skipper, attempted his approach in a flirtatious manner. "Yes, Madame, me and the boys had a good glance at that particular Siren Minion bitch that was inside of a bottle."
The Manjuus then high-fived each other. "Yeah."
Bunker Hill-76 was clearly not having any of the antics of these annoying yellow chickens in the briefing room.
Everyone fell into silence as they felt the uncomfortable and menacing aura that Bunker Hill-76 was radiating, clearly annoyed by the Chickens. Lucas tried to defuse the tension by shooting Skipper with a Taser. The rest of the Manjuus remained silent after Skipper received the electroshock.
In that silence, Bunker Hill-76 lowered the aura she was radiating. After that, she spoke as if nothing had happened, especially not the intense aura she had just emitted.
"And with that... I want you all to rest. Your operation will start at 0300. You're all dismissed."
As everyone was dismissed, they left the briefing room and headed to their respective ships to get some much-needed rest and a good night's sleep.
Lucas, on the other hand, went to William's Ship to discuss some matters with someone else before he went to bed. He needed to talk to someone to clear his mind and address the dangers that lingered within his thoughts.
As he walked down the hallway leading to the medical room, he muttered some words. "One problem after another, huh."
He knocked at the door of the medical room, making his presence known and asking for permission to enter.
"Come in," a woman's voice said, granting him permission to enter.