"What are you all afraid of?" Hikaru laughed and clapped his hands. "We're going to win. If you really can't shake the nerves, go tally supplies and prep logistics. Being busy beats being scared."
It was like they'd been waiting for that cue. California stood up first, then the five visiting shipgirls went to help.
This was the rear half of the warehouse. The original racks and weapon stands had been cleared to the far side, leaving this space open.
Resources, the galley line, and neatly sorted equipment were all laid out on the floor.
A short ways to Hikaru's right, a cutout had been opened in the wall—a door-sized slot currently sealed. If needed, it could be unbarred at any time to move equipment straight out from the warehouse.
That's the beauty of a defensive battle: supply is basically limitless, and you can swap loadouts on the fly.
If air pressure spiked, everyone could switch to AA. If the enemy tried a rush, they could trade into torpedoes and jab the Abyssals when they weren't looking.
For now, Yamato and the other visitors took the role of "combat logistics" runners; if the fight tightened to the point even they had to sortie, Tenryuu and Moskva would inherit the resupply line.
Outside—on the "front yard" by the warehouse—Taihou had just lifted a tumbler of orange juice from the catering table and taken a sip.
The table was piled with special dishes—some prepped yesterday by Yat Sen, some cooked deep into the night.
In fact, a compact stove had been set up inside the warehouse; if they needed to top up their special meals, Tenryuu could show her skills.
Seeing Hestia a little tense beside her, Taihou smiled. "It's fine. Once you're swinging, you get used to it."
"Carrier group, escort group—into the water with me," Lexington ordered.
The carrier group was one CVL plus three fleet carriers, with the missile destroyer Changchun switched to the "Full-Deck Assault" tactic, and Hestia riding with them for repairs.
The escort group was a mixed screen under Prince of Wales: Repulse, Helena, Leipzig, Fletcher, and U-47.
Missouri formed her own "group." She was the last wall in front of Hikaru—and also the prime swap slot—but for now she was slotted with the escort group.
Even so, she didn't surge out hundreds of meters like Prince of Wales and the others. The moment Missouri touched water, she stopped advancing.
Shipgirls only fight at full expression on the sea. In terms of power, it's like a person drawing strength from solid ground—sure, you can brawl in space, but everything feels wrong.
But Missouri's main job was protecting Hikaru, so she wouldn't stray far from the warehouse.
Two groups plus Missouri made thirteen—this was the core of the base's defense.
Across the way, Bismarck flicked a glance at her sister. Time for Tirpitz to take point.
Until they reached the Airfield Princess, the vanguard would sail under Tirpitz as flagship.
Tirpitz stretched lazily; for once she didn't whine about the hassle—maybe Bismarck had already "educated" her. Listlessly, she called, "Vanguard, ready for action."
Onto the water came the cold-eyed, uniformed Bismarck; Veneto with her legs crossed on her rigging like a mob boss sipping coffee; and Z17 in a white dress with bunny-ear ribbons—following Tirpitz out to sea.
It was… a look. A moe destroyer, a "godfather-cosplaying" battlewagon in a destroyer's frame (Veneto's silhouette making that illusion), and a sleepy, slouching Tirpitz. If not for Bismarck's iron-blood war-goddess aura, you'd think this party was hopeless—and even now, you might wonder if Bismarck could really carry them.
And they were heading out to do the most dangerous job on the map.
Beside the vanguard, the carrier group had already launched its air wings, and Changchun had even said hello with a volley of missiles.
[End of Chapter]
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