London, Royal Isles
November 2, 1942
8:00 AM
The morning sun shone brightly above the capital, its light illuminating the full extent of the damage left in the wake of the storm that had just passed. The stillness that now replaced the tempest starkly revealed the devastation.
Duke stepped out onto the balcony and surveyed the city. It lay in ruins, ravaged beyond imagination, much like the Blitz that had scarred Earth in the early days of World War II. She glanced at the damaged buildings, recognizing some familiar landmarks, but noted with a sense of pride that the city folk had already begun to rally. They were diligently clearing the debris that littered the roads and extinguishing the last lingering wisps of smoke from the wreckage.
At first glance, the city seemed utterly devastated, but with time, and through the unwavering patience and resilience of its people, the entire city was already showing signs of life, as if it had never been bombed at all.
Duke winced inwardly at the sight. She had received the report early this morning: of the 100% damage inflicted by the Sirens, a shocking 20% had actually come from Dragon.
Early in the morning, still in her chemise, she found herself grappling with the immediate aftermath of the battle. She sighed and glanced at the bed where Dragon lay soundly asleep. Even in her sleep, Dragon was as carefree as she was when awake.
Duke had to face the undeniable fact that this Dragon, despite her overwhelming power, also possessed massive liabilities.
"Hey, wake up. We have to attend this Royal ceremony to face His Majesty, King George," she said, gently tapping Dragon to wake her up.
Dragon merely rolled over in bed, burying her ears under a pillow, and grumbled, "Five more minutes."
Duke's brows twitched imperceptibly at her sleepy-headed companion. "Why are you always like this?" she murmured to herself, a hint of exasperation in her tone.
~Much – Much Later~
Dragon slumped onto the couch, her posture devoid of any regality, as she complained about the mundane ceremony—or, more accurately, the "Publicity Stunt" designed to bolster public morale. It was meant to reassure the populace that despite the weathering storm, there were heroines who would rise to the challenge, bearing the blessing of God.
"God... remind me not to go to this kind of boring party again. The music was boring, and so were the people," Dragon grumbled, her voice laced with disdain.
"Hmm. It seems you're not the type of Shipgirl who would linger among the nobility," PM Churchill commented, recalling how assiduously she had avoided the aristocrats.
"My apologies if my companion performed terribly at the Royal Ceremony," Duke said apologetically, offering a slight bow of her head.
PM Churchill raised a palm in dismissal. "No need, some people feel the same way. I know Miss Dragon would prefer battle to small talk and giving speeches."
Dragon crossed her arms, a smug look on her face, and nodded in agreement.
"It was my idea to invite you two," PM Churchill admitted, a touch of embarrassment in his voice. "I did it all to instill some semblance of hope among the folk, that the heroines who saved the city would be rewarded. And apparently, everyone was pumped and eager at the news that the two of you were bestowed with a worthy title."
"At least the people got what they wanted," Dragon said, her head slumped back as she stared at the ceiling.
Duke nodded, then turned her gaze to the Prime Minister. "Tell me about the other Modern Kansens... are they informed?" she inquired.
PM Churchill remembered something, pulling open a drawer in his desk. Inside lay a decoded message. "Oh, here it is."
He extended the message to her, which she received. "Inside that message is the response. Washington will send two more Modern Kansens here to proceed with the current operation. The Siren attack may have delayed preparations by a few weeks, but the operation's schedule remains the same. Thankfully, Miss Enterprise extended the schedule by another month after realizing the Sirens might launch an attack. We had expected it to be a full invasion force, which caught us entirely off guard."
Duke nodded. "And what about the identities of these two Kansens?" she pressed.
"Let's see..." PM Churchill pondered, consulting the message. "It's Sir Lafayette's ASW Division... and Kidd. The latter is barely known to me, they said she was one of the Burke Destroyers." He finished with a shrug, still unsure about Kidd's precise identity.
"DDG-100 USS Kidd, the 50th Arleigh Burke-class Destroyer," Duke informed him, providing the exact designation.
Dragon recomposed herself on the couch, resting her index finger on her lip. Looking up, she pondered aloud, "So, she's here. I never expected another one of America's Destroyers to be in this world."
"Last thing I knew... she would be retired from service in the 2040s. Quite odd to think that an old vessel like that is still seaworthy after 45 years of service," Duke remarked.
Dragon turned to glance at her. "Tell me... you're supposed to be out of service in the 2030s. Quite odd for you to say she's old, when you're old yourself."
Duke's brows furrowed, her low grumbling escalating into a growl. "Can you still show some respect to your elders?" she snapped, before delivering a sharp lump to Dragon's head.
Dragon clutched her head where the lump had formed, light smoke still bellowing from the impact. "Ouch," she whined.
PM Churchill was left speechless. Of all the bizarre occurrences in the world around him, the confusing age of Shipgirls puzzled him the most. From the start, he had assumed the two were youngsters, comparing their youthful looks. His assumption was now thoroughly shattered. Iron Duke was clearly much older, and Dragon was apparently over 30 years old back in their original world.
His head began to ache; he rubbed his temples with his hand. "This is confusing..." he uttered.
"Confusing?" Duke echoed, with a slight tilt of her head.
"This whole age thing," he explained, gesturing vaguely with his left hand.
"I get you, old man," Dragon said, with a thumbs-up.
Duke turned a sharp glance at Dragon after hearing her casual retort to the Prime Minister. "Dragon... mind your manners," she chastised gently.
PM Churchill let out a hearty chuckle, clearly amused by the two. Their contrasting personalities often reminded him of certain Shipgirls in the Royal Navy: Those with strict, disciplined demeanors and those who were endlessly happy-go-lucky.
"No need for that, I'm quite used to it. Some of the girls used to call me that, or 'Pops'," he said with a wave of his hand, as he fetched a glass from his desk drawer along with a bottle of whisky.
The two Shipgirls watched him return with alcohol. The sight wasn't hardly unfamiliar to them, as history clearly showed that the man was exceptionally fond of his spirits.
"He sure does love alcohol," Dragon commented, a knowing smirk on her face.
Duke sighed, finally letting go of Dragon's ear after pinching it as a mild reprimand for her lack of decorum. "Well, let's hope he doesn't get caught by Miss George."
Dragon rubbed her now-sore ear. "She won't, she's not here at this moment."
...
Atlantic Ocean
An Arleigh Burke-class Destroyer cut purposefully through the rising waves, its flared bow plowing through the surface with efficient grace. Accompanying the Modern Destroyer was Lafayette's ASW Division, composed primarily of World War II-era Fletcher-class Destroyers.
Kidd stood proudly at the mast of her ship, the strong gust of wind blowing her hair and the distinctive feather in her hat.
"Yo hoo...." She whispered to the wind. Like Jack Sparrow, facing the bracing the call of winds of the salty sea bracing for the Atlantic.
Kidd along with Lafayette were sent to Royal Isle to perform crucial convoy escort at the build-up of troops of the up-coming operation.
Behind the sailing Warships were columns and rows of Cargo Ships heading Mediterranean Sea.
...
Guantanamo Bay
The sun shone intensely, and everything below shimmered with heat, as if an oven had been left open, threatening to scorch everyone in the kitchen. Along with the blazing sun above, a simmering heat emanated from the two individuals who likely despised each other's very existence.
Laffey-200 and Zumwalt were on their absolute best behavior, yet their animosity toward one another remained palpable and thoroughly maintained. Their stare was intense as the blazing sun poised above.
( IMAGE )
Despite their intense glares, someone still managed to radiate joy and a bubbly attitude. Laffey-724 simply circled around the two, who stood like unmoving pillars.
Laffey-724 oblivious to the simmering heat coming from the two continue her child wonder as she spun around happily as if dancing in circles.
"Why do I have to be with you..." Zumwalt began to speak, his words breaking their silence, which had only been disturbed by the cheerful tone of a child running around in circles between them.
"I can handle this escort mission... alone..." he declared, his tone low yet clearly audible.
"So can I... I can handle this myself, without you in existence," Laffey-200 retorted in the same clipped tone as his.
"Let's finish this then." Zumwalt raised his hand, gripping his sheathed Katana.
"I could say the same," Laffey-200 agreed, as she slowly hovered her hands over her holstered Desert Eagles.
The two exchanged heated gazes, as if another battle was about to commence, but then something appeared directly in front of their view. Both immediately ceased their aggressive posturing.
Laffey-724 jumped up and down between the two, her bunny ears bouncing up and down, making her the most prominent sight amidst their tense exchange of glares.
"No fighting," she chirped, wagging both of her hands to get their attention. "Laffey doesn't want any fighting with friends." She continued to jump up and down, an embodiment of innocent disapproval.
*Silence*
Laffey-724 spread her hands wide, motioning them to stop. "No fighting."
"I do believe you have to take care of that." Zumwalt said, abandoning his fighting stance. He couldn't fight properly with a kid running around.
Laffey-200 ceased her stance, leaving the two Desert Eagles in their holsters. She slowly lifted Laffey-724 off the ground and carried her.
"You live for the day," Laffey-200 stated, as if issuing a final warning.
"Tsk." Zumwalt clicked his tongue. "Foolish Bunny." He trailed off.
The two parted ways, no sharp glances exchanged, just complete ignoring each presence.
Cleveland-31 and Canberra watched the exchange, observing the intense heat generated by the two large combatants, arguably the most powerful warships in the US Navy's arsenal.
The two LCSs were no match for any of the larger ships. While their speed was a notable advantage, in terms of firepower, they were merely glorified speedboats armed with rockets and guns. They were not equipped to stop the two drawing their weapons at one another.
"Why are we even here?" Cleve-Dude quipped, feeling the lingering aura of tension emanating from the two. "I mean, these two can demolish the Sirens on their own."
"I think we're on the wrong team here, it feels like we're just here as life insurance, floating around for the two." Canberra added, agreeing with his sentiment.
As the two LCSs felt the simmering heat from both the sun and the lingering presence of Laffey-200 and Zumwalt, the Manjuus, by contrast, remained perfectly cool. This kind of tension was like a walk in a park filled with toxic gas, and they were already equipped with hazmat suits. The nonchalant aura that sometimes emanated from Laffey-200 was something they had grown accustomed and endured.
"It's the same heat," Agent F said, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.
"It's the same, but different," Agent U replied, making a series of gestures to emphasize his point.
Cleve-Dude turned his eyes on the two Manjuus in tuxedos. "How can you two say that? I mean, we're literally standing in an open oven when those two are clashing with animosity."
Agent U looked up, pulling his sunglasses down as the sun glinted off the shades, and stared at him. "You'll get used to it."
Canberra and Cleve-Dude exchanged glances, both doubting they would ever get used to breathing the same air as the Manjuus.
It would probably take them a year just to tolerate the same "toxic" air.
...
Detention Center
Enterprise-80 walked alongside Amagi as they headed toward the detention cells where Akagi and the others were held.
The hallway they traversed was meticulously clean, almost like a surgical room in a high-tech facility, yet the stark reality was that they were walking through a prison block.
"Are you ready to greet her?" Enterprise-80 began the conversation, her tone low and measured.
Amagi nodded, her brown hair swaying gently. "Yes. I am the one who made the request to visit Akagi."
Enterprise-80 turned her attention to the long, straight hallway, where the fluorescent lights on the ceiling softly flickered. "It was an easy request, surprisingly. I thought it would be difficult to convince the President to grant this, but here we are."
"Yes, I thought the same... I thought they would hold me for further quarantine," Amagi said, letting out a slight chuckle to lighten the mood.
"You certainly are optimistic, as the others were told," Enterprise-80 remarked, her attention fixed on the leading Agent in front, though she often glanced side to side, assessing the hallway.
The Agent in front stopped at a door made of cell bars.
Agent Kevin turned to face them and gestured. "Here we are."
Agent John unlocked the cell bar doors, allowing them to enter the cell block where the captured Shipgirls were kept.
This particular cell block was specifically designed to restrain Shipgirls, as regular cells wouldn't suffice for containing Kansen powers. However, at the moment, it didn't matter, as they had taken precautionary measures to temporarily remove their superhuman strength, allowing them to settle in first.
...
In one of the cells, Akagi sat crouching on her bed. The silent walls were the barriers keeping her from the outside world, and her only conversations were with the other occupants in the cell block: Odin and U-505.
Odin, in her own cell, was reading a book, one of those exclusively available or given to her by the detention staff. The books she was reading contained no political messages, no grand idealism, just bible.
U-505 was the newcomer to the cell block. She fell victim to Lafayette's ASW Division, specifically the "Grand Thief U-Boat" mission which include U-Boat Hunting. For starters, she was having a hard time adapting to her new environment, often sobbing in the corner, as being a POW was hard enough.
Unlike the other two, she received no interrogations, having only been interrogated once upon her capture. Her security seemed quite loose; she had reading materials and coloring books, and nothing else.
The passage of time meant nothing to Akagi, marked only by the mundane interrogations she frequently faced. They weren't torture, but they were annoying, with the same questions repeated endlessly because she refused to answer their inquiries.
Her fox-ears drooped, mirroring her mood, as the only light came from a single window. Her eyes darted to the solitary ray of sunlight, as if it were the single rekindling spark of hope within her.
The usual silence of the cell block was so profound that it had become normal for the occupants. Their conversations, even when low, were clearly audible to one another.
Akagi's mind swirled in a world of hopelessness, thinking that this day would be no different from any other. She would wake in the morning, be interrogated, eat lunch, be interrogated again, and then sleep.
Or so she thought.
Her fox-ears twitched imperceptibly as she heard some noises echoing down the corridor of the detention center hallway.
The tone of the voice was so familiar that it was etched in her memory. Her eyes widened in genuine surprise, her gloom instantly dropping as her attention snapped to the hallway, piercing through the bars of her cell.
"No... it—it can't be." Her voice hitched, overcome with emotion, unable to hold back her tears.
Through the cell bars, figure stood wearing a warm smile that turn rain to sunshine like summer through winter.
"Amagi Nee-sama."
"It's been a while... Akagi." Amagi said, also tearing up after seeing her sister for such a long time. Her voice was soft, yet her surging emotions made it crack.
Enterprise-80 simply watched from the background, allowing the two sisters to have their moment. Odin and U-505 in their respective cells peaked through the bars that kept them confined.
This was also their first time seeing the face of Enterprise-80 who led the Task Force that had become well-known, not just within the Azur Lane Alliance and Crimson Axis, but among the Sirens as well. Her name had become a profound concern for Iron Blood's Higher-Ups, spurring a technological resurgence in weapon research and manufacturing.
Both Iron Blood girls bore faces of sympathy, yet Odin's expression was subtly different. She was genuinely happy that Akagi had her sister back.
"Amagi.... She's—she's alive..." Odin uttered in surprise, seeing her completely alive.
U-505, however, was utterly confused by the person's identity. She hadn't been around at the time Amagi was alive and well.
Back at the Fox-sisters.
Akagi bolted off her bed and rushed to the cell bars that separated them, reaching out, tears streaming down her reddening cheeks.
Amagi, with equally tearful eyes, reached out, holding her. "Akagi... I'm sorry..." she said, the words catching on her tongue as emotions continued to spill from within her.
"Amagi Nee-sama—how...? How are you alive?" Akagi asked, collapsing to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
Amagi knelt down to meet her eye to eye, bridging the long years of their separation and anguish.
"It's alright... you can let it all out. I'm here now, Akagi. I'm not going to leave you. As your older sister, it's my obligation to be with my sister," Amagi said softly. Akagi cried into the comfort of her sister's embrace, releasing all her pent-up emotions—anger, loneliness, and prejudice.
Akagi let out a torrent of mixed emotions. She hadn't cried like this since the day she learned of her sister's death, an event that had been profoundly painful for the young Akagi.
Minutes passed until no more tears were shed. Amagi and Akagi then engaged in a heartfelt sisterly conversation. The discussion revolved around Amagi's story: how she had ended up in the hands of the Sirens and why everyone had presumed her dead.
It was a tender, tearful reunion between the two. Eventually, their conversation shifted to Akagi's recent actions. With all her love, Amagi did not hold back the sermon she had prepared for her sister. And, just like any typical older sister, Akagi found herself being interrogated about her wrongdoings.
Even through the lecture, Akagi felt a profound sense of relief and joy. It was her sister, after all, guiding her back to the right path after the many wrong choices she had made in her life.
Amagi with her tough love.
As the Fox-Sisters returned to their usual routine, Enterprise-80 watched them, her expression unreadable save for an almost imperceptible curve of her lips. Her attention then subtly shifted to her side.
Odin, gripping the bars of her cell, had her eyes fixed on Enterprise-80. "What's the point of keeping us here? If you're not torturing us for information, what's your real purpose?" she demanded, her voice edged with frustration.
Enterprise-80 responded, her tone level. "I have other plans than to let you rot here in detention."
Odin squinted, her skepticism evident. "What do you mean you have other plans for us?" Her voice suddenly rose, demanding a clearer answer.
"I have no intention of destroying Iron Blood. My goal is to restore everything to the way it was before, when Iron Blood was still part of Azur Lane. I have a plan to face the Sirens. For now, stay alive. There is a reason why you are here, and we are not treating you as enemies. We consider you guests."
Odin continued to stare at her, but in her mind, Enterprise-80's last words floated like a riddle, hinting at a future yet to unfold. 'Another plan for us?... What does she want to do? She doesn't plan to destroy Iron Blood, but she plans to conquer it.'
She fell into deep thought about Enterprise-80's true goal. If she wanted to reunite Crimson Axis with Azur Lane, she could have used a diplomatic approach, similar to the one employed with the Sakura Empire.
Then it dawned on Odin: no one in Iron Blood would ever bow to such a demand, and the only way to achieve it would be through invasion.
Her thoughts were lost in the void of uncertainty, unsure of what the future held for Iron Blood. She opted for a silent prayer that everyone back home was doing their utmost to create weapons that could counter the Alliance's growing technological edge. She hoped, too, that the Higher-Ups recognized the changing tides and wouldn't remain entrenched in their own biases.
As Odin fell silent in contemplation, her face contorted, imagining the potential screw-up if those in the higher echelons ignored the very real danger.
Enterprise-80 suddenly looked to her right, where she saw U-505 looking at her, dumbfounded.
U-505 saw that she was being observed and quickly lowered her head to avoid her gaze. However, because she was holding the bars, her forehead made a comical 'Ting' sound as she bumped to it.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed, proudly covering her forehead. The scene was utterly comical.
"Hmm," Enterprise-80 hummed, holding her chin thoughtfully as she continued to look at him.
"So, you're U-505?" she asked casually, her tone a soft whisper.
'Even in this world, you're still caught,' she thought to himself, a wry amusement briefly crossing her mind.
U-505 kept her head low, not in shyness, but in profound awareness. The aura she felt was on par with what she experienced in Bismarck's presence—an unmistakable aura of authority.
She peeked slightly to compare Enterprise-80's face and act of nonchalance. One thing was profoundly clear about the figure she was observing: a total presence and absolute control.
...
Pearl Harbor
At the hospital beds, William sat, looking utterly bored. After fighting off both TB and Purifier's floating head, he had landed in the infirmary with several broken bones and bandages covering him. He had certainly paid the price for "the Family."
Opposite his bed, Enterprise-6 lay with her usual expression—the same one she'd worn the moment she landed in the hospital bed, mirroring William's own weariness.
"It's been several days..." she wailed in complaint about her situation. Her injuries were relatively shallow, yet Vestal had confined her for more than a day.
William shared her sentiment. "I feel the same way... I want to leave these beds too. There are projects and research I need to finish on time."
Both then let out a synchronized sigh of exasperation.
Their complaints were heard as Vestal arrived, accompanied by the others: Yorktown, Hornet, and Cmdr. Thomas, all visiting.
"I have no other excuses to confine the two of you, so I had to take this opportunity to break you both out of your habit of literally working yourselves to death," Vestal said, her brows furrowed and her tone pitching high with exasperation.
Enterprise-6 grunted. "All of my injuries are healed. There's no point in keeping me here any longer."
"This is for your own good, sis," Hornet interjected, her tone always cheerful and bright.
"Enterprise," Yorktown began, her voice soft and reassuring. She sat at the side of her bed, her hand firmly holding hers. "You need to rest... you cannot rush into battle when your body can't handle the condition. For now, rest—leave the rest to the others." She finished with a warm, comforting smile.
Enterprise-6 responded with a small smile of her own, a subtle tugging her lips. Standing beside, Hornet nudged Cmdr. Thomas on his side, subtly signaling him to speak.
His grumbling was noticeable. In an awkward turn of events, he flustered and scratched the back of his head, struggling to find his words.
"Come on, Commander," Hornet chirped, a cheeky grin on her face. "I believe you have something to say."
Cmdr. Thomas coughed to clear his throat. To avoid further embarrassment in front of everyone, he opted to spoke of the recent briefing, to avoid the romantic tension between him and Enterprise-6
"Recently, this morning, we received a call from Miss Enterprise—the other Enterprise," he corrected himself, clarifying the distinction to prevent any misunderstanding.
Hornet and Enterprise-6's brows furrowed in unison, like hopes and dreams seemingly dashed flat at the concrete floor.
"He opted for the recent briefing to avoid humiliation," William muttered from his opposite bed, bearing the same disappointed expression. "Classic diversion."
Cmdr. Thomas ignored them and continued, "She'll be arriving here tomorrow along with some newly arrived Modern Kansens."
The phrase "newly arrived Modern Kansens" bewildered them. Even William, initially confused, quickly dove into deep contemplation about these new arrivals.
"What do you mean... newly arrived Modern Kansens?" Enterprise-6 inquired, her voice sharper than before.
"Just as the communication stated; the rest, we don't know," he said with a shrug.
"Yes. Even we weren't sure what the communication meant, so we asked Lucas and Essex about it. They, too, were clueless," Yorktown added, as she had been present at the briefing in her capacity as Adm. Nimitz's Secretary Ship.
"Washington did provide the names of the newly arrived Modern Kansens, though," Cmdr. Thomas clarified. Everyone immediately turned their attention to him, eager for the information.
Cmdr. Thomas recalled the names on the list. "The names were: LCS USS Cleveland and Canberra, and LPD USS Anchorage."
Enterprise-6 and Vestal's eyes widened upon hearing some of the familiar names like Cleveland and Anchorage.
William rubbed his chin, contemplating the odd choice of teleporting an LCS into this world, where virtually everyone could outgun them.
"DDG USS JP Jones, USS Kidd, and USS Zumwalt."
William ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. "No, this can't be. Zumwalt was one of the most controversial ships that ever existed! Most of its capabilities were kept hidden, and just like Laffey, who was devoid of combat experience back in our world, Zumwalt would be more of a pain in the butt than Laffey when it comes to combat!"
Everyone fell into a state of deep concern. They knew how much of a loose cannon Laffey-200 could be on the battlefield; now, having another one, possibly even worse, was truly alarming.
William broke character entirely, his mouth dropping open after hearing Zumwalt's name. Vestal, beside him, was taken aback by his sudden reaction, which usually only surfaced "if things didn't go as planned, yet still had to be gotten along with."
"What!!!!!!!!!!!! Zumwalt!!! Any ship but that one!" he yelled, surprising everyone present.
"What's wrong with that?" Vestal asked, concerned, as William muttered like a madman to himself.
William ran his hand through his hair, making it even messier. "No, this can't be. Zumwalt was one of the most controversial ships ever built. Most of its capabilities were kept hidden. And just like Laffey, who was largely devoid of combat experience back in our world, Zumwalt would be more of a pain in the butt than Laffey when it comes to combat!"
Like Laffey, who thirsted for combat and blood, Zumwalt yearned for 'Power' and dominance. Zumwalt was envisioned as the 21st-century warship that would revolutionize naval warfare with its new dawn of long-range naval guns. However, the Rail Gun proved problematic due to its overheating rails when fired simultaneously (which was essential for a warship's long-range naval artillery), and other systems that were too advanced ultimately failed due to their untested nature, becoming "legacy systems."
After its refit, the Zumwalt Class became the most powerful warship afloat, carrying a formidable Hypersonic Missiles in exchange for its other weaponry. Its existence was then rivaled by the advent of the DDG-X or Laffey Class Destroyers.
And with that deep-rooted rivalry from their old world, Laffey-200 and Zumwalt would undoubtedly make everyone's life in Azur Lane much more interesting.
Everyone fell into a state of concern, knowing how much of a loose cannon Laffey-200 was on the battlefield. Now, having another one was genuinely worrying.
"No! You can't be serious!" Vestal's voice boomed, capturing everyone's attention. "I know Laffey is a bit of a loose cannon, but the way you characterized this Zumwalt makes him sound like a really big deal!"
"He is a big deal," a voice sounded from the doorway. Lucas entered without them noticing him.
"He is a big deal, I tell you that," he repeated, walking toward them. "They were the cutting edge of a ship—if you know what I mean."
They all fell silent. William smirked, understanding the reference to Zumwalt's distinctive angular shape.
"The whole class was designed to be stealthy, avoiding radar and other detection methods. It was our answer to the retiring Iowa Battleships with their big guns."
Hornet whistled, impressed with the capabilities of this "Zumwalt guy." "He must be strong."
"....Right...." Lucas said, his tone suggesting he didn't want to delve too deeply into Zumwalt's procurement nightmare and controversial history. He gestured for the Commander to continue.
"Commander?"
Cmdr. Thomas resumed. "The rest are: SSN-23 USS Jimmy Carter and USNS T-AKE 10 Charles Drew."
Everyone turned their attention to William as one of his class of Cargo Ships was now in this world. That news clearly lightened his mood, knowing his sibling was here.
"This seems interesting," William said, a mischievous smile slowly forming on his face.
Vestal, ever vigilant, didn't fail to notice. She gave him a light smack on the head, reminding him of her presence and her determination to stop him from doing anything stupid or, more specifically, any complete violation of creating banned weapons of war.
"William.... I am not going to let you and your sibling do anything stupid without my supervision," she warned, her eyes glowing menacingly, her face shadowed with resolve.
William felt like shrinking under the aura she was exerting. "Fine... I won't," he mumbled, his eyes subtly turning to the side, hinting at a different meaning.
Vestal grabbed his face and forcefully turned it to make him look at her. "Look at me, William! Look at me!"
William hesitantly met her gaze.
"No more making weapons that are banned under the treaty," she declared, forcing him to make an oath he seemed reluctant to fully commit to.
In comparison to William and Drew: William was a physicist, meaning he was inclined towards scientific and technological advancements. Drew, on the other hand, was a Doctor, meaning she was involved in biology and chemistry. Combined, the two formed a duo whose potential creations might not even be covered by the Geneva Checklist.
( IMAGE )
As the "two lovebirds" devolved into their mundane nature of bickering and scolding, Cmdr. Thomas continued, this time ensuring he wouldn't be disrupted.
"And lastly, CVN-71 USS Theodore Roosevelt."
"Another Carrier?" the girls echoed in unison, as if having one was already more than enough.