Following the successful raid on Madagascar, which, according to intelligence reports, targeted the last known remnants of the Siren presence, the Researchers were ecstatic. They meticulously examined the valuable loot retrieved from the Siren Base by the task force.
The discovery of certain Siren vulnerabilities proved to be a significant revelation. The previously feared hypnotism employed by the Sirens could now be effectively countered, a major breakthrough for Azur Lane.
More sophisticated weaponry, such as lasers and advanced missiles, were temporarily set aside. Their intricate technology required advanced digital analysis that was not the immediate focus. Instead, the researchers concentrated on the Terrier Missile technology provided by William. This technology, though historically introduced in the 1950s on Earth, appeared to be a full decade ahead of its time within their current world.
The technology transfer had been remarkably swift, almost unimaginably so. The Eagle Union and Royal Navy needed to establish a foundational understanding before delving into ballistic missile development. Under William's guidance, they were making steady, albeit gradual, progress in Missile Technology.
Having now grasped the fundamentals of Missile Technology, their attention shifted to finding a suitable ship hull to accommodate the sophisticated Air-Defense system.
--USS DDG-1 USS Gyatt, Boys---
The Special Siren captured from the Antarctic Siren Base was now confined to the maximum-security section of the Research Base at Azur Lane Pearl Harbor. This exceptionally high level of security was deemed necessary due to the unknown, and potentially devastating, capabilities of this particular Siren, which had been specifically designed for Ground Warfare.
William's team of Researchers was spearheading the project to fully understand its potential in land combat and how it might fit into the broader strategic picture.
It was unequivocally clear to everyone, even the highest authorities in Washington, that the Sirens were actively amassing an army for a land invasion. Their last attempt at a major land invasion in Mainland Europe had resulted in significant losses, forcing them into defensive trenches as relentless human waves nearly overwhelmed them.
Now, the rules and tactics of the battlefield had evolved. The Sirens desperately desired a Leader-Class unit to command their ground troops effectively. However, this critical plan was now in jeopardy due to the decisive and successful raids on Madagascar and Antarctica. The Sirens were clearly scrambling to formulate a retaliation; they could not allow Azur Lane and its new Modern Kansens to defeat them so decisively and repeatedly.
As the Sirens formulated their counter-strategy, another, far more pleasant, development was unfolding at Azur Lane.
The intense period of Siren raids and grueling combat missions had finally come to an end. The Shipgirls at last had the opportunity to indulge in some well-deserved relaxation on the sunny beaches of Hawaii.
...
September 5, 1945 – At the Beaches of Hawaii
The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow over the pristine sands. The ocean waters were crystal clear, inviting and cool. The seagulls, while characteristically noisy, were a minor annoyance compared to the recent, harrowing missions and fierce battles the Shipgirls had endured. For now, there were no urgent missions or the oppressive, looming threat of war. The Modern Kansens and Shipgirls were simply basking in the simple joy of hot summer days.
The stressful paperwork and demanding patrol missions were temporarily forgotten. Everyone had been granted a much-needed day off as a reward for the successful raid in Madagascar, a testament to their collective efforts.
However, not everyone was present. Adm. Nimitz and a significant portion of his staff were in Washington, D.C., engaged in crucial discussions about the profound implications of the events in Madagascar. The weapon used to decimate the Siren Fleet in a single, devastating strike was the subject of intense scrutiny and questioning among all the Allied Nations of Azur Lane.
The secrecy surrounding the Nuclear Weapon had been irrevocably shattered. The appearance of multiple blinding flashes near Madagascar, coupled with the weapon's immense, undeniable power, had every Allied Nation within Azur Lane clamoring for one in their own arsenal.
But Enterprise-80 firmly rejected their requests with a resolute "No." She argued passionately that this weapon was far more dangerous than the Sirens themselves if it were to fall into the hands of humans who lacked a comprehensive understanding of its creation and the absolute devastation it could unleash upon humanity.
She reasoned that if one nation were to possess such a weapon, they would become unstoppably dominant, effectively forcing everyone else into submission. Furthermore, if another nation were to somehow develop their own, it would inevitably lead to a chilling repeat of the Cold War on Earth, complete with subsequent, dangerous nuclear testing.
Enterprise-80 desired a world entirely free of nuclear weapons. For the present, however, the use of nuclear weapons against the Sirens was authorized only in the direst of circumstances, as an absolute last resort.
Back at the Beach
The rhythmic crashing of waves against the sandy shore provided a soothing, almost hypnotic, backdrop for the Shipgirls lounging on the beach and those basking under the warm sun.
Sunblock was diligently applied to protect their delicate skin from painful sunburn, while others eagerly rushed into the refreshing sea to escape the oppressive heat.
The scene resembled a true paradise, with beautiful women in their colorful swimwear and the boys accompanying them in their casual shorts.
Your Old-Man William exuded an almost forced aura of youthful energy, embodying the spirit of "I'm not old" and a somewhat strained "Hello, fellow kids" as he strolled along the beach in his vibrant Hawaiian shirt adorned with bright floral patterns and matching shorts.
William steadfastly insisted he wasn't old, merely a 40+ year-old Cargo Ship nearing his decommissioning date in the US Navy. He was still going strong, thankfully without any creaking joints, which would undoubtedly cause Vestal unnecessary worry.
Beside him were the Manjuus, who had, quite inexplicably, brought along a pot and some explosive powder for some sort of myth-busting experiment involving a pressurized pot-bomb. Or perhaps it was simply an unauthorized, redneck-style firecracker. The pot they carried was clearly visible to the other beachgoers, sparking various speculations. Were they planning to cook something, or was it simply a bizarre, desperate attempt to gain attention?
Their thoughts, it turned out, were both right and wrong at the same time. The Redneck Manjuus were, indeed, likely going to cook up something else entirely, something that would inevitably attract unwanted, explosive attention.
As William ambled along, oblivious to the curious glances he was attracting, a soft voice from behind suddenly captured his attention. He quickly turned to face the speaker.
"It's good to see that you're finally taking a break from all the work you've been immersed in," Vestal said, her swimwear elegantly accentuating her small figure.
Upon hearing her voice, William swiftly extinguished the cigarette in his mouth and unceremoniously stubbed it out on the head of the Manjuu standing innocently beside him.
The unfortunate Manjuu let out a high-pitched scream, reminiscent of a man in agonizing pain meme.
--Yeah, William, you were definitely in regulation.--
The Manjuus also hastily concealed their makeshift pressure firecracker, the pot and powder being shoved into hidden corners beyond Vestal's keen line of sight. Like William, they knew they would face her considerable wrath if she discovered their planned myth-busting activities on the serene beach.
"Can a guy even have a smoke?" William muttered under his breath, just loud enough for himself to hear, careful to keep his voice low so Vestal wouldn't catch it.
Vestal's eyebrows twitched slightly as her keen ears picked up his mumbled complaint. "It's your day off, but that doesn't give you a free pass to smoke without my supervision," she said in a firm undertone.
William, the (old) man that he was, immediately backed down before the diminutive woman with the impressive assets before him. "Alright... alright. Jesus. At least let me smoke; I'm old enough."
Vestal sighed, knowing his penchant for finding loopholes in her rules. "Fine... I'll allow you to smoke."
A smile flickered across William's face at Vestal's reluctant approval, but it quickly vanished as she raised an index finger, signaling a condition.
"On one condition..."
"And what might that be?" William asked, bracing himself for a condition that would hopefully be within the realm of science, and not some inexplicable magical demand.
"Well, how about you take me on a date tonight?"
The Manjuus dropped their concealed pot onto the sand in utter shock, the sound echoing their surprise.
A genuine, wide smile spread across William's face at the simplicity of the condition. "That is scientifically possible."
"What??" Vestal blinked, surprised by his overly analytical response.
"Sure, why not? It's date night," he replied casually, shrugging.
"Good then, enjoy the day." Before she could walk away, she offered a piece of stern, final advice. "Oh, I almost forgot. No explosions or experiments on the beach, got it?" she said, her tone turning strict once more.
William, attempting to feign innocence, avoided her gaze. "Yes, Ma'am," he mumbled childishly.
As Vestal walked away, William playfully nudged his Manjuu companions on the head and spoke. "Sorry, boys. No fireworks tonight, and no Myth Busting at the beach."
The Manjuus, who had eagerly prepared the pot and explosive powders, were, to put it mildly, not pleased.
Boys would be boys, after all, especially when explosives were involved.
Many of them protested his decision to cancel their beachside experiment, but William reasoned with them, emphasizing the potential for accidental injury.
The Manjuus, however, were not easily dissuaded. They quickly reorganized their explosion experiment to the nearby cliffs, a location where no one could be harmed, or so they thought. They figured that a sufficient amount of explosives combined with the pot and the cliff face itself would do the trick.
One thing led to another, and the cliff face erupted in a deafening explosion, taking the Manjuus with it as they were thrown back. They had inadvertently created a Homemade GBU using nothing more than a pot and explosive powder.
Thankfully, due to a combination of scientific principles and sheer dumb luck (or perhaps profound stupidity), they didn't end up as fried chicken despite the massive explosion.
"Yup. Good thing that shit happened at the cliff with all the Fried Chickens," he muttered to himself as he heard Vestal's voice booming indignantly in the background, undoubtedly having witnessed the blast.
"So much for a date night now, huh," he sighed, knowing his plans were likely ruined.
On the Other Side of the Beach
Against the backdrop of pure white sand and towering sandcastles built by others, Lafayette and Laffey-459 were diligently constructing their own sandy fortress with their bare hands.
The idea of building a sandcastle wasn't entirely Lafayette's; it was primarily Laffey-459's suggestion. He had been persuaded by her quiet enthusiasm and now found himself as the primary architect and builder of this sandy endeavor. His advanced Aegis System and extensive US Navy Data Files proved surprisingly helpful in designing a remarkably stable structure made entirely of sand.
It was a task where many others had previously failed, their sandcastles crumbling before completion.
Observing the two was Saint Louis, still on guard duty as dictated by her recent paperwork. Richelieu had seized this opportunity to garner some attention for the Iris Libre. Lafayette, having recently earned the esteemed title of Dragon Slayer from the Royal Navy Crown, provided an ideal opportunity for Richelieu to showcase the Iris Libre by assigning Saint Louis as his watchful Paladin.
For this casual occasion, she wasn't wearing her usual heavy armor but rather a more weather-appropriate attire swimwear... with strategically placed armor plating.
She stood there, her gaze fixed intently on the two diligently working on their sandcastle. The unique design captivated her attention, making it difficult for her to look away.
"That's quite a wonderful Sand Castle, Sir Lafayette," she commented, genuinely admiring the architectural design.
Lafayette paused, then looked up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Thanks... it's actually quite challenging for me, even with a simple design," he admitted, a hint of humility in his voice.
"Yes, it's simple, yet the architectural design seems remarkably well-executed," she complimented, truly impressed.
Lafayette simply nodded in acknowledgment of her comment.
Laffey-459 carefully flipped over a bucket of sand, slowly removing it to reveal the molded shape. "This one's ready," she announced to gain his attention.
Lafayette turned his focus to the newly molded sand and began shaping the design. He added some wet sand to increase the volume, then carefully removed portions to carve out the desired details. After another minute of meticulous reshaping, the Sand Castle was complete.
They both stepped back to admire their creation from a distance. It was astonishing for the time invested and noticeably taller than some of the other sandcastles nearby.
"Well... not bad for a first try," Lafayette remarked, offering his own modest assessment.
"It's better and bigger than the others," Laffey-459 stated in her usual nonchalant, yet factual, manner.
"It was magnificent," Saint Louis added with genuine admiration, reinforcing the praise.
"Well, it's not that good-looking compared to the others," Lafayette countered, attempting to downplay his accomplishment.
"Do not discredit your work, Sir Lafayette. It is superior to the others in my opinion," Saint Louis insisted, holding her ground.
"Yes. Laffey saw it better," Laffey-459 echoed, supporting Lafayette.
As they stood and appreciated their creation, the peaceful tranquility was abruptly disrupted by a familiar noise assailing their ears.
Lafayette and the other two beside him turned to face the boisterous arrival of their friends. The Trio had found them, and like any beach outing with friends, chaos ensued as the Sakuran Destroyers arrived.
(Author's Note: I need to be careful about this; I don't want the FBI to come knocking at my door.)
"Hey, there you two are!" Javelin called out, waving her hands enthusiastically as she ran towards them.
Trailing behind her was the Beaver Squad in their youthful swimwear, led by Charles Ausburne, who also called out their names.
"Hey, you two. Don't leave us out of the fun," Yukikaze exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips as if she had just caught a large fish in a stream.
"What are you two doing, boss?" Charles asked, noticing Laffey-459 sitting behind Lafayette.
"What do you think I'm doing..." Lafayette replied, clearly uncomfortable with their intense stares.
Charles tilted her head and then spotted the impressive Sand Castle he had built. "Whoa, you built a castle!" she exclaimed in genuine surprise.
Javelin's eyes sparkled at the sight of the sandy architectural masterpiece, her voice filled with joyful admiration. "Wow. I didn't know you built this; it's wonderful!"
"That looks amazing, Big-Bro Lafayette," Unicorn chimed in, sharing Javelin's enthusiasm.
"Laffey and Lafayette built it," Laffey-459 corrected, ensuring credit was properly assigned.
Yukikaze's voice suddenly boomed, filled with an excited idea. "Hey! Can you make a Pagoda Castle?!"
Lafayette was dumbfounded, his face blank and his mouth agape. "EH?!"
Everyone turned their attention to him, eagerly awaiting his response. Lafayette had just completed his very first sandcastle, a modest but impressive feat, and was now being asked to construct a detailed Japanese Castle complete with a multi-tiered Pagoda-style tower.
"Are you gonna make one, desu?" Ayanami inquired, her eyes wide with anticipation.
Lafayette gathered his composure and, after a moment's thought, decided to decline. "Umm, sorry, I can't."
The Sakuran Girls pouted, their initial enthusiasm visibly deflated by his response.
"What a bummer."
"Fine! We'll make one ourselves," Yukikaze proclaimed with determination, with Yuudachi and Shigure nodding in resolute agreement.
The Sakuran Girls then set about building their own Sand Castle, basing the design on a Japanese Castle with a Pagoda Tower. They tried their very best, but the tower kept collapsing repeatedly, and parts of their intricately carved designs kept falling off, much to their frustration.
Lafayette and his friends watched their struggle with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. Laffey-459 tugged gently at his arm, subtly urging him to help the struggling Sakuran girls.
Lafayette relented and offered his assistance. He advised them not to use too much water when molding the sand, to avoid carving too deeply, and crucially, to strengthen the structure by making the lower levels significantly wider than the top. With a little time and shared effort, the Japanese Castle finally stood tall, complete with its characteristic Pagoda design.
Howe's Cookie Shop Branch
Just beyond the sandy expanse of the beach, silhouetted by the swaying leaves of coconut trees in the gentle summer breeze, a vibrant tent stall offered a delightful variety of summer food, grilled items, and chilled drinks – the perfect refreshments under the warm sun and after a refreshing dip in the cool ocean.
Arizona, dressed casually in summer shorts and a shirt with a simple apron, stood watch over this small business branch of Howe's Cookie Shop. He was, in essence, employed right there on the open sandy beach.
He expertly flipped a patty on the grill as he prepared a burger for one of the customers, simultaneously preparing a cold, refreshing drink.
The customers were completely oblivious to the true identity of the diligent employee serving them. Arizona maintained his disguise as "Aizen the Shop Employee" as he efficiently handled their orders with a practiced ease.
"Here's your order, sir," he said, handing it to a waiting customer with a polite smile. "And here's yours, ma'am. Hope you enjoy," he added with a friendly, unassuming demeanor.
The couple accepted their orders with smiles of their own, completely unaware of who they were interacting with.
Arizona didn't take his temporary job lightly. He had clearly mastered the art of socializing while in disguise. His friendly demeanor seemed to be working perfectly, and no one had suspected that he was anything other than a regular, earnest employee working under Howe's management.
'It seems my disguise has worked so far, and no one recognizes me,' he thought to himself with a small, internal nod of satisfaction as he waved goodbye to the departing couple.
As they walked out of his sight, he turned to the side and noticed a Maid in her swimwear sitting quietly on one of the folding chairs under the shade of the tent's roof.
Sheffield, still recovering from her injuries, no longer had her left arm in a sling, a clear and welcome sign of her recovery. Although she was officially off duty and in need of rest, the unsmiling expression on her face suggested she wasn't enjoying a single moment of this tranquil, forced idleness.
"What's with the face? It's your day off," Arizona remarked to the stoic maid, trying to lighten the mood.
"I hate being treated as such. A week of rest is a luxury for others, not for me," Sheffield stated flatly, her tone devoid of emotion.
"Well... at least be thankful that you have such a luxury. Some don't," Arizona pointed out, ever the pragmatist.
"I just hate being useless and stuck."
As Arizona observed her, an idea sparked in his mind. "Hey." His call drew her attention, and she turned her gaze towards him, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
He continued, "If you want to be useful, why not help me here? This small business is a branch of your Mistress's Humble Cookie Shop."
Sheffield pondered for a while, the shades of the tent providing a welcome reprieve from the hot sun. Her eyes flickered back to him as she considered the unexpected offer. She chose to take it.
"I suppose your offer isn't that bad," she conceded, rising from her seat with a decisive movement.
Arizona grabbed one of the extra aprons hanging by the cooler and handed it to her. She took it and immediately wrapped it around her waist with practiced efficiency.
"You kinda look good in that," Arizona commented blandly, stating a simple observation.
"Are you referring to the apron... or the swimwear I'm wearing?" Sheffield asked sharply, catching him off guard with her directness.
"Can it be both?" he replied in his typical flat, expressionless Arizona tone, unperturbed.
"So... you're a pervert yourself," she said without making eye contact, a hint of accusation in her voice.
"Hey, it's just a commentary. Not all men are perverts just by making observations," he defended himself, genuinely confused by her implication.
"Knowing you, you won't be," Sheffield said, dismissing his defense with a faint, almost imperceptible, smirk.
Moments later, a customer approached the stall.
"Hello, how may we help you, dear customer?" the two greeted a customer who had come to their stall to order some summer food.
As Sheffield served the food, a sudden, deafening Boom! echoed unexpectedly across the beach. Both of them, even Arizona who was expertly at the grill, tilted their heads to glance at the source of the distant explosion.
They saw a gust of sand blow outward, and in the center, Laffey-200 had just unleashed a powerful kick that resulted in a literal sonic boom.
They were clueless as to what had just happened, but Arizona vaguely remembered his Manjuu friends, specifically Skipper and his crew, though Skipper himself was nowhere in sight. Kowalski, Rico, and Private looked up, their expressions suggesting a ball had just been kicked high above them, soaring into the heavens.
"What... the... hell...." Arizona muttered, utterly bewildered.
Earlier
Skipper and his boys had been attempting to impress any of the adult Shipgirls they could find in the area, trying desperately to elicit a giggle or a blush, but their PR stunt had failed miserably.
"Ah, women. We'll get them eventually," Skipper declared, clearly disappointed along with his crestfallen crew.
"Maybe we should try another approach that doesn't involve flirting, sir," Kowalski offered his logical opinion.
"Sorry, Kowalski, but I am not that kind of guy," Skipper said, puffing out his chest with an exaggerated sense of bravado, if he even possessed a chest to puff.
"Right, Sir," Kowalski responded, unconvinced.
"By the way... where's Private? I ordered him to scout for our Goddess," Skipper said, squinting in every direction, trying to locate their missing comrade.
"Oh, oh! Skipper, Skipper!" Private flapped his hand/wings excitedly, pointing towards the person they were trying to locate. "Found her!"
"Boyah!" Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico immediately ran in that direction with renewed determination.
At that Direction
Laffey-200 was peacefully sunbathing in her swimwear, enjoying the warmth, surrounded by her self-proclaimed Secret Service/Bodyguards: Agent Frank and Agent Ulysses, affectionately known as Agent F and U.
They were on guard duty, armed with high-powered weapons, resembling a Manjuu version of Men in Black or an Secret Service detail.
They weren't her official bodyguards, but rather they were there for every idiot's safety, strategically positioned to prevent anyone from getting too close to her for their own well-being. Because once you breached her personal space or disturbed her peace and quiet...
You would, quite literally, be reduced to peace. For your own safety, the unspoken rule was clear: stay away and do not flirt or mess around, because you would find out the consequences in the most painful way possible. She was the very definition of shoot first, ask questions later.
"Goddess!" Skipper shouted as he approached.
"Halt!" Agent F and U intercepted Skipper and his boys, their rifles raised defensively.
"This is a restricted area, turn around," Agent F stated, his rifle pointed menacingly.
"What are you gonna do, shoot me?" Skipper retorted, brazenly challenging them.
Agent F and U exchanged a quick, knowing look and then turned back to him. "Yes."
At her folding beach chair, Laffey-200's brows twitched slightly as she sensed a disturbance to her precious tranquility. It was truly a blessing for the entire base when she remained silent and still, thereby avoiding any ruckus or significant destruction to any establishment in the area. She had even sent a bunch of Rookie Commanders to the infirmary, not from combat injuries, but because they had FAFO'd with the wrong person.
Now, anyone with experience and a knack for avoiding sudden, painful death could sense the radiating aura emanating from her within a kilometer (or "freedom per foot") radius.
She rose gracefully from her folding chair and moved towards the source of the commotion, her shadow casting a menacing form that engulfed the four Manjuus who were creating the disturbance.
Agent F and U stood there motionless and silent, knowing in their core that they were royally F*cked-Up. Neither of them uttered a single word as the atmosphere around them became thick and suffocating, akin to the silent, deadly air of Chernobyl.
"Godde—"
Before Skipper could even finish his address, he found himself blasting off like Team Rocket, surpassing even NASA and SpaceX's most ambitious space launches as he broke through atmospheric friction with his mach-f*ck acceleration directly into outer space.
Skipper had achieved Wingardium Leviosa by foot, no magic wand required. Laffey-200 didn't need any spell casting for this one; she simply delivered a swift, powerful kick between his chicken legs and sent him soaring into the cosmos.
Rico, Private, and Kowalski witnessed the first-ever Manjuu launched into outer space without the assistance of a space launch from Florida.
On the Other Side
Cmdr. Thomas felt a profound sense of unease as he found himself inexplicably at the beach alongside the Yorktown Sisters. He hadn't been planning on coming to the beach at all, but somehow, he was now sitting right next to Enterprise-6.
His presence on the beach was a complete mystery to him. Despite being a Naval Commander, he rarely visited the beach for relaxation, usually preferring to be buried under mountains of paperwork in his office.
"Say, Cmdr. Thomas. It's quite odd to see you resting at the beach. Did my sister do something to change your mind?" Hornet teased, observing the two who were visibly blushing, sensing a budding connection.
"Hornet!" Enterprise-6 exclaimed, feeling intensely uncomfortable with her sister's pointed remark in front of the Commander.
Cmdr. Thomas certainly didn't look like someone who would willingly go to the beach given his usual demeanor, yet here he was, on the sandy shores of Hawaii, without any recollection of how he had arrived.
He let out a defeated sigh, acknowledging that there was nothing he could do about his current situation but try to make the best of it. "Well...." he began.
"I'm not supposed to be here," he stated, recalling the bizarre events just before he inexplicably found himself at the beach.
Hornet and Enterprise-6 leaned in, finding his words rather suspicious. How did he end up here like a lost child when they had initially encountered him already at the beach?
"I was in my room, just finishing getting dressed, when my door suddenly burst open. I instinctively ducked under my table, thinking I was under attack."
"Eh?" Hornet gasped, surprised.
"Then how did you...?" Enterprise-6 asked, her curiosity piqued by the unfolding mystery.
Cmdr. Thomas continued his baffling story. "That's what I thought, until I cautiously peeked out and saw Manjuus in Kevlar vests and assault rifles. That's the last thing I remember before... I was here. At the beach, with my hands tied."
Enterprise-6's eyes widened in dawning realization. She abruptly stood up, knowing instantly the culprit behind the Commander's sudden and forceful appearance at the beach.
"It has to be her," she said, the pieces of evidence in her mind falling perfectly into place.
"Who is it, Sis?" Hornet asked, noticing the serious, almost exasperated expression on Enterprise-6's face.
Cmdr. Thomas also became serious, eager to learn the identity of the person who had so brazenly kidnapped him from his dorm and unceremoniously deposited him on the beach with his hands tied.
"Who is it, Enterprise?"
Enterprise-6 looked at the two, her face grave. "It's CVN-80," she said with a serious, almost resigned, undertone.
"Huh!?" Cmdr. Thomas was left utterly speechless by that shocking revelation.
Hornet whistled softly. "Wow, that's quite an ingenious plan," she said with a hint of admiration, despite the methods used.
"Why would she even do that?" Cmdr. Thomas now asked, his anger slowly rising at the indignity of having been kidnapped, forcibly dressed in summer attire, and then unceremoniously dropped off at the beach.
Enterprise-6 recalled Enterprise-80's earlier words about the Commander – that if he wouldn't go to the beach willingly, she would handle it with 'force.' But her deep thoughts were interrupted.
"Seems like my plan partially worked," a familiar woman's voice said from directly behind them.
They all turned around and saw Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 in their swimwear. Behind Bunker Hill-76 stood a child with platinum hair and an overly colorful hammer. Enterprise-80 looked at them, noting their bewildered expressions, though Hornet seemed to have anticipated this kind of stunt from her sister.
Cmdr. Thomas's mouth hung open wider than a Looney Tunes character's as he gazed upon Enterprise-80. His brain seemed to cease functioning for a moment before Enterprise-6 gently tapped him on the shoulder, snapping him back to reality.
He was awe-struck, resembling a statue if he hadn't moved for an hour.
"You alright, Commander?" Enterprise-6 asked, noticing his temporary mental shutdown.
Cmdr. Thomas snapped back to reality as his mental gears started turning again. He became instantly flustered in front of Enterprise-80 and quickly turned around, trying to hide his bright red face.
"So, what do you mean your plan partially worked?" Hornet inquired, cutting to the chase.
Enterprise-80 shrugged. "Well... I expected the Commander would love to have a little sand between his toes, but he's more annoyed than I anticipated."
Cmdr. Thomas finally cooled down from his total fluster and faced her, his voice laced with indignation. "How could you possibly think I would love being here if I was kidnapped from my quarters, had both my hands tied, handcuffed even? They even changed my Navy Uniform to a Hawaiian Shirt without my consent! They undressed me while I was tied behind my back!"
Enterprise-6 and Hornet were utterly shocked to hear that the Commander had been tied up while being changed.
"Ha-How?" Enterprise-6 stammered, aghast.
Enterprise-80 held her chin thoughtfully. "Seems like the Manjuu Marines overdid it," she mumbled, a hint of amusement in her voice.
She clasped her hands together, attempting to sweep the embarrassing incident under the rug. "Sorry, Commander, but what happened to you there was out of my control. I sincerely apologize for the mistreatment. I only ordered my Manjuu Marines to kidnap you from your quarters and drop you off here at the beach."
"You can't just shove it under—" Cmdr. Thomas began to protest.
Enterprise-80 raised an index finger, cutting him off. "No need for you to get angry." She gestured towards the two of them. "Just enjoy the moment for now; tomorrow will be the start of another mission."
She glanced at the two, who remained silent, still processing the bizarre turn of events. "Enjoy the silence, for now. The chaos at the Main Base can wait until tomorrow. Soak yourselves in the salty sea and take your time... There might not be another time like this. Alright, Dismissed."
She said, her tone firm yet understanding, before leaving them and heading towards their designated spot to relax. Silence followed as Cmdr. Thomas and Enterprise-6 processed what had just occurred.
"Alright," Hornet broke the uneasy silence. "I'll be in the water. I'll leave my sister in your care, Commander," she said before sprinting off towards the ocean.
Silence permeated the air once more, punctuated only by the distant cries of seagulls.
Cmdr. Thomas hung his head low, realizing there was nothing he could do about his situation. He couldn't simply leave; he was here now and had to seize the opportunity, just as Enterprise-80 had said, 'There might not be another time like this.'
"Guess we're stuck here, huh," he mumbled.
"Ye-Yeah..." Enterprise-6 stammered, still a little flustered by the unexpected turn of events.
The silence lingered between the two as they didn't quite know what to do, having been left alone together. Their silence was heavy, both keeping their mouths shut, with only the sound of their beating hearts audible in the pervasive quiet.
Cmdr. Thomas finally broke the silence again, attempting to find some common ground. "So... wanna grab something...?" He pointed towards a store stand on the beach that sold drinks.
Enterprise-6 looked in the direction he was pointing. "Seems like a good idea, Commander."
He waved her along. "Come on, let's go," he said as they both got up and headed towards the store stand to get some refreshing drinks.
Back to William and Vestal
William had almost lost all hope for his dinner date with Vestal. His Manjuus, a chaotic bunch of rednecks, had attempted some ill-fated myth-busting on the beach, but they ended up significantly altering the topography of the nearby cliff as it dramatically exploded.
A bunch of redneck Manjuus had literally blown up the cliff beside the beach with a pot filled with explosive powder. Their myth-busting was, technically, a success, if you could call it that way. You could indeed change a landscape with a pot full of explosive powder.
Those repentant redneck Manjuus were now lined up, sporting various bandages, kneeling with their hands raised in a pose of surrender alongside William himself.
Vestal looked at them with a profound sense of disappointment. She had expected William to act like the responsible adult he was. She knew Americans could be rowdy when it came to explosives, but she hadn't anticipated them completely changing the landscape with a mere pot of explosive powder.
(America!!!!!!!!! F** yeah!)*
"I think you've all learned your lesson now," she said after giving everyone a 'little' squeeze to the ear, a universal sign of scolding.
"Yes, Ma'am...." they whimpered in unison.
"Good. Don't do it again."
As they continued to whimper in muffled pain, Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 arrived, with a mysterious package trailing behind them.
"What happened here?" Enterprise-80 asked, observing William and his Manjuus kneeling with their hands in the air.
Vestal pointed dramatically at the once-present Hill Cliff that had been utterly obliterated by a pot of explosives.
"Look what they did! They blew up a Hill Cliff with a pot filled with explosive powder!" she exclaimed indignantly, her voice rising in frustration.
Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 looked at the flattened area where the Hill Cliff used to be, both struggling to suppress their amusement with muffled chuckles.
"Looks like that could be useful in our espionage missions," Enterprise-80 commented with a teasing tone, seeing the destructive potential.
Vestal was utterly exasperated, knowing both Enterprises were incredibly stubborn and prone to finding practical applications for even the most chaotic events. "Everyone could have been hurt by that explosion!"
"Vestal, chill we—" William tried to interject, attempting to defend himself, but was quickly silenced.
"Shut up! I didn't ask you to speak!" Vestal yelled, her patience clearly at its breaking point.
Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 immediately stopped laughing, remembering they were here for a different reason entirely – to deliver a gift.
This was what William had specifically asked her for before the start of the assault on the Siren Base in Madagascar. had finally delivered. Enterprise-80 had been concerned that William might resort to illegal means to obtain one of these. She had asked the Admiral beforehand, and now she had exactly what he requested.
Enterprise-80 cleared her throat, drawing their attention. "I'm not here to laugh; I'm here to grant your request, William."
William looked at the child with platinum hair, who was hiding shyly behind Bunker Hill-76's back. His eyes lit up, having clearly been expecting one of these Bulins.
"Is that... a...." he stammered, awe-struck by the sight.
"Yes. Your eyes are not deceiving you. What you're looking at is a Bulin Custom MK-III, a new batch coming straight out of the factory," she said, introducing the newest addition.
William got up from his knees and, with a broad grin, lifted the Bulin into the air like a proud father lifting his daughter. The Bulin Custom MK-III didn't object in the slightest and simply giggled along with him, thoroughly enjoying the moment.
Out of context, they both looked perfectly like a father and daughter, sharing a genuinely joyful bond.
Vestal could now understand why this particular Bulin had been present in the Lab, seemingly mingling with their work, seeing how close the two already were.
Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 both rested their arms on Vestal's shoulders, and in unison, they spoke, "Congratulations."
"What???" Vestal asked, utterly confused by their congratulatory tone.
"An addition member to the 'family'," Enterprise-80 said nonchalantly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
As Vestal blushed crimson with embarrassment, William spoke, loudly proclaiming his ambitious goals after finally obtaining a Bulin Custom MK-III. This was his true objective, the very reason he had asked for one in the first place.
"Finally... I can make a Starship!"
William was already planning to cram Rail-Guns, Shield Deflectors, and Phaser Cannons onto the CVN-80 USS Enterprise. He was going to add even more "pew-pew" to their Super-Carrier, turning it into a formidable vessel from science fiction.
"What in God's name are you going to do with that Bulin, WILLIAM!?" Vestal yelled, her concern now deeply rooted in the Bulin's safety in William's hands.
In the Water
Out in the sparkling waters, where everyone was swimming and floating, Lafayette and his friends were engaged in a lively game of ball. Some tossed it, others threw and blocked—it was a fun, carefree activity for them all.
Lafayette, on the other hand, with his floatation devices attached somewhat awkwardly to his arms, struggled to stay afloat on the surface.
"Great.... How did I get myself into this?" he muttered, a wave crashing over his face, leaving him spluttering. He might be a Kansen designed to float with his rigging, but he was certainly not a submarine.
As he battled for stability, Javelin shouted, tossing the ball with enthusiasm. "Lafayette, the ball!"
Lafayette turned to face her, but was unexpectedly hit square in the face by the very same ball. His attention had still been focused on William and his unusual 'family' over on the shore.
Lafayette's Aegis Combat System, designed to track complex threats, utterly failed to identify the simple, bouncing beach ball. Due to this bizarre, mundane failure, the Frigate received a direct hit... in the face.
"Nice shot!" Yukikaze exclaimed, not quite grasping the gravity of the situation.
"Lost focus again, huh...." Laffey-459 muttered to herself, observing him knocked out and floating listlessly in the water.