"Accelerate. Anyone who falls behind, form your own groups and make for the objective. I don't care if you have to crawl—be there by 1500 tomorrow." Marshal Hanza gave the order, then fixed the shipgirl leading the column with a long look.
"Iowa—make sure you know what you're doing."
"As the head of this relief operation, I'll take full responsibility."
Her voice was cool, unyielding.
So she was Iowa herself—the lead ship of the Iowa-class, a six-star battleship.
—
"At speed, armament, and power, our Iowa-class are the longest, fastest, most powerful—and the last battleships ever to retire. We're a hundred times better than any Yamato-class," Missouri said, blithely ignoring the way Yamato's face darkened nearby. She clung to Hikaru's arm and shook it eagerly. "Let my little sister join the fight, pleeease?"
Hikaru's head was spinning from all the nuzzling. "But Lion, Fusou, and… Huten also want in."
"Lion's got nothing on my sister—other than, uh, being well-endowed," Missouri sniffed, taking a swipe at the Royal Navy's top battleship. She leaned in with a plaintive whine. "Even if you ignore combat power—think how you ditched me back at base for days. I was bullied and humiliated. Don't you want to make it up to me, just a little?"
She rubbed against his arm again, to the point it felt like she was rubbing his brain smooth.
"Okay, okay—stop shaking me." Hikaru surrendered. "Wisconsin truly has the best big sister."
"Of course! I'm the best big sister in the whole base!" Missouri whooped, grabbed Hikaru's cheeks, and planted a smacking kiss on him—completely missing the quick, hooded looks Bismarck and Lexington traded across the room.
By now the sky was full dark; air raids had given way to another night of torpedo swarms. Last night's attack had forced Bismarck and company to harden up their patterns; the strikes were two or three times heavier tonight, but the defenders were calmer—and sharper.
They'd gathered in the warehouse to lock down tomorrow's "rotation plan."
Hikaru could rotate secretaries and the head cook to swap present-world shipgirls with those in the inner base. Missouri had just been named head cook to replace Yat Sen. She was really a bruiser from the combat crew; the actual cooking tomorrow would fall to Lexington—perfect wife model. If Lexington was swamped, Moskva or Tenryuu could cover; their special dishes didn't last quite as long, but they'd do.
To keep the battle day orderly, assignments had to be crisp.
Playing it safe, Hikaru spent 600 diamonds to buy three Elite Damage-Control Fairies, and another 200 diamonds for twenty Quick Repairs—leaving 480 diamonds in reserve. That brought damage-control fairies to fourteen, quick repairs to thirty. He centralized the pool: Bismarck, Tirpitz, Missouri—anyone charging or guarding Hikaru—got at least one fairy; everyone, even Alaska and Yamato, received a quick repair. Extras sat in a common cache: grab what you need when you need it.
Tactics were Bismarck's department. Hikaru's headache was the bench.
Pushing his psyche hard, he could swap out two shipgirls over twelve hours—the interworld transfer cost a lot of mental strain. In a pinch, risking real neural burn, he could force a third. In other words: if Missouri got blown up to heavy damage, he'd swap the next in; if that one was about to sink, he'd swap again.
The problem was the slots—two, maybe three at most—while the line to help was a mile long.
Everyone wanted to fight.
Hikaru's first cut for the rotation was Lion, Richelieu, North Carolina, and Wisconsin.
But after Missouri's long pleading, he could only offer Lion an inward apology and bump her down the order.
Strictly speaking, Lion was the least powerful of the four. He'd ranked her higher because, well… she was stunning, and he had a soft spot. Wisconsin wasn't quite her sister's equal, but she was close enough.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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