At the shrill blow of the whistle, the beach volleyball battle between Team America and Team Royal Navy officially commenced. The eager crowd roared, cheering for each team with the expectation of a hard-fought victory and displays of true sportsmanship. Yet, it was clear to all that this match was destined to be brutally intense.
Queen Elizabeth, the formidable captain of Team Royal Navy, was granted the honor of the first serve. With all her supposed 'might,' Lizy strained to strike the ball over the net and onto the opposing side. However, her effort fell woefully short, the ball didn't even come close to crossing, instead dropping with a soft thud onto their own side of the court.
A palpable silence descended upon the beach as everyone present processed the astonishing misstep. Queen Elizabeth's initial serve had utterly failed, falling embarrassingly short of the net.
Mere moments later, a wave of uproarious laughter erupted from the crowd, particularly from the Eagle Union contingent. People laughed, releasing a pent-up centuries of laughter.
Then, the booming voice of the announcer, Essex-12, blared through the speakers. "What the actual hell was that?! You strutted in here threatening everyone with your supposed superiority, and you can't even serve a ball over the net? Are you kidding me right now?!"
"I'm going to shove that microphone right up your ass!" Queen Elizabeth retorted at the announcer, her significant yell cutting through the noise.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty... please calm down. We are in the middle of a game; we mustn't be distracted by such trivial remarks," Warspite interjected, gently restraining the Queen from storming the announcer's cottage.
Essex-12 continued to provoke the Queen with her jokes, deliberately missing the letter 'T' from her every sentence. Illustrious, sensing the game's momentum slipping away amidst the commotion, stepped in.
"My sincerest apologies for this brief interruption. The game will resume momentarily. Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, requires absolute concentration, and the crowd's noise is a hindrance... could you please grant Her Majesty some quiet space to focus?"
Upon hearing Illustrious's calm voice, the entire crowd fell silent, affording the Queen the quiet she needed for her next serve. Everyone watched with bated breath as the Queen prepared herself, this time with intense, unwavering concentration.
Queen Elizabeth took a deep, steadying breath, closing her eyes. Every spectator and player could feel the sheer, overwhelming focus radiating from her.
She opened her eyes, and with a mind-boggling burst of force accompanied by a fervent war cry, she launched the ball. Everyone's eyes widened in disbelief as the ball, with devastating power, slammed directly into the net.
Just like before, it felt as though everyone present collectively lost another one of their remaining brain cells.
Illustrious finally broke the awkward silence. "Umm... third time's the charm, perhaps?"
The crowd, unable to contain themselves any longer, dissolved into fresh peals of laughter. Team Royal Navy collectively flushed with profound embarrassment at their Queen's spectacular failures.
Everyone on Team Royal Navy reached an unspoken conclusion: a server replacement was necessary. Warspite was quickly appointed the new 'Server,' and Queen Elizabeth was substituted out for Edinburgh.
The ball was now on Team America's side. Saratoga was the one to serve it across the court.
Sheffield leaped, poised to block the incoming ball. Her eyes met Arizona's, an unspoken connection passing between them like a silent current.
"Laffey!" Sheffield called out, signaling for the Middle Blocker/Hitter to take the shot.
Laffey-200 sprang into the air, her right hand cocked and ready to smash the ball back to the opposing side of the court. Her eyes glowed a vibrant red, and a deathly aura radiated from her, sending a shiver down the spines of the male players. Her sheer presence turned their legs to jelly as "Mozart – Lacrimosa" began playing ominously in the background.
"Fuck!" Arizona cursed under his breath, realizing Laffey-200 was about to strike.
Laffey's advanced Aegis Combat System quickly identified her targets. As the ball drew inches closer, she rapidly calculated her angle of attack and optimal targets. Her primary focus, however, was the middle—the other Aegis Ship.
On the other side, Lafayette's Aegis Combat System meticulously tracked the volleyball with every passing second as Laffey's right hand closed in. His own Aegis Combat System predicted the velocity and trajectory of the ball if it made contact.
The two Aegis Ships faced off on the court with absolute confidence. An Escort Frigate against a Large Ship Combatant—one on the defensive, the other on the offensive. Their respective Aegis Combat Systems locked onto the Volleyball.
Laffey-200 unleashed a powerful strike, sending the ball soaring at Mach-who-knows-what velocity, a speed far greater than any ordinary volleyball player could achieve.
Lafayette, positioned at the ball's anticipated endpoint, blocked it with all his might. The ball, however, slipped through his hands as he desperately tried to decrease its immense velocity. His efforts proved futile; this ball was truly meant for him alone.
As the ball slipped from his grasp, it rocketed forward, striking him directly in the face like a cannonball. Everyone was utterly stunned by the impact.
"Lafayette, No!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Voices filled with concern echoed across the beach as they watched Lafayette take a direct hit to the face.
Team America was horrified by what had just occurred. The kid had been knocked out in the first round by a deadly ball to the face.
"Looks like I used too much force, huh?" Laffey-200 muttered, clearly not expecting him to tank that kind of attack.
She literally didn't hold back against Lafayette, even if it was just a game. Overkill was, indeed, the name of her game.
*Whistle blows*
"That's a violation." Bremerton, the Referee, announced, issuing a warning to Laffey-200 for her excessive force.
Lafayette's team rushed to assist his knocked-out self. Lafayette slowly got to his feet, but the injury to his face throbbed, and he stumbled slightly, like a boxer staggering in the ring.
"Whoa there, kid, relax," William said, steadying him to prevent him from falling back into the sand. He carefully checked Lafayette's right cheek where the ball had impacted.
"No broken jawline... no internal organ damage, you just got knocked out." William tapped him on the back. "Careful now... we might not survive the next round." He added, knowing their chances of survival were lower than an average Joe's chances of getting a girlfriend.
He continued. "Look up, your friends are here."
"Lafayette, are you alright?" Javelin asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Big Brother, are you alright?" Unicorn also inquired, equally worried.
Saint Louis dashes in and quickly knelt in one knee. "Sir Lafayette are hurt somewhere else?"
"I'm fine." He uttered a few words.
Yukikaze, however, seemed thoroughly amazed. "Wow, you blocked that with your face! That was awesome!"
Lafayette's eye twitched at Yukikaze's remark, but his furrowed brows relaxed as Laffey-459 pressed a cold cola can against his right cheek, right where the ball had made impact.
"Dodge next time, will you?" she said nonchalantly.
Lafayette was about to speak, but she cut him off. "You don't have to... you've already proven yourself. Just don't die in a game."
Lafayette nodded, his vigor renewed. After hearing her words, he was ready to return to the court, despite having taken a direct hit to the face.
Laffey-200 was now out of the game and sat beside Queen Elizabeth, both watching the match unfold. Both of them had unintentionally given Team America a point, rather than their own team. Lafayette had made a necessary sacrifice for the rest of his teammates.
Queen Elizabeth sat frowning deeply, her gaze fixed on the game.
Team America quickly gained the upper hand as Lafayette's Aegis Combat System meticulously tracked the volleyball's velocity. His enhanced agility and mobility were utilized to block the ball, preventing the enemy team from scoring further points.
Arizona hit the ball, and Sheffield, on the other side of the net, blocked it. The two exchanged glances, as if passing a complex Morse code message between them.
'She's tired already?' Arizona pondered, noticing her sweating more profusely than ever before.
Sweat beaded on Sheffield's skin. She had been placed in the demanding position of a Hitter because Laffey-200's replacement was lacking. They had put Suffolk in Laffey-200's former role as a Middle Blocker/Hitter.
"Do not underestimate me," she declared in her usual stoic manner, though her heavy panting betrayed her façade.
A Nuclear Submarine against a Light Cruiser in a battle of pure endurance. They held a silent staring contest for a moment before the sharp sound of the ball being hit broke their intense focus.
"Arizona!" Baltimore called out as the ball came hurtling his way.
Arizona quickly leaped for the strike, aiming for the ball. Sheffield jumped to block his attack, but her effort fell short as her knees were on the brink of collapsing.
The ball passes cleanly over her head, surprising her. The two once again made eye contact as the ball passed above her.
Warspite, with a fierce war cry, dove in, saving her team by blocking the ball from their side of the court. The sound of the buzzer blaring saved them from allowing Team America to gain yet another point.
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief as the buzzer sounded.
Cmdr. Thomas remained remarkably unscathed despite the chaotic display that had just unfolded. He had fully expected to be injured in this game, facing Kansen opponents as a mere human in a beach volleyball competition.
Sweat cascaded down his forehead like miniature waterfalls. He wiped it away with his Hawaiian shirt, then glanced to his side, noticing that both Enterprises were watching him.
CV-6 wore a look of genuine concern plastered across her face. CVN-80, on the other hand, had a different expression; instead of concern, there was a hint of amazement that he had survived.
'Is she actually expecting him to take a critical hit from the Kansens?' she wondered.
"I can't believe he survived that. Most humans would collapse on their knees after a beach volleyball competition against a Kansen," Enterprise-80 remarked, looking at the Commander.
Bunker Hill-76, standing to her left, spoke up. "We underestimated him too much, Ma'am. We forgot he's like a persistent weed, incredibly hard to deal with."
"Yeah, you're right, Bunker Hill. We truly underestimated his capabilities on this one," Enterprise-80 conceded.
Hornet chimed in. "Hah, even the top brass had difficulty getting rid of him. He's genuinely skilled at dodging any consequences."
"That kinda reminds me of someone else I know," Enterprise-80 said, glancing to her other side.
They all looked at Enterprise-6, who appeared deeply concerned about the Commander. "What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?" she asked, flustered.
Hornet handed her a towel and gently pushed her toward the Commander. "Go scrub his back, sis!" she cheered for her.
Enterprise-80, Bunker Hill-76, and Hornet all gave her a collective thumbs-up. Enterprise-6's face flushed as she found herself face-to-face with the Commander.
A moment of quiet settled between the two. She struggled to speak for a bit before offering him the towel. Cmdr. Thomas took the towel she held out.
"Thanks," he said with genuine gratitude.
Meanwhile, William cracked his back, tired from constantly running and blocking a seemingly ballistic ball, moving with the reflexes of a CIWS to prevent it from getting through.
"Aww... my back," he grumbled, cracking another joint.
Vestal chuckled softly, amused to see him complaining like an old man in his forties. She found his frustration as entertaining as he often found hers.
"I think you should take a rest," she suggested, observing William's cracking back.
"Not yet. I still have a battle to win," he declared, sounding like a determined, if exhausted, married man.
"Just don't overdo it," she said with a hint of concern.
The Bulin Custom MK-III at his side offered him a cold bottle of water. William's throat was dry and rough from all the panting. He thanked her and gave her a gentle pat on the head. She smiled with delight.
Lafayette, on the other hand, had his friends and the Beaver Squad tending to the injuries he'd sustained as a Blocker and Hitter. He might be agile and quick, but he still received a fair share of bruises and minor injuries whenever the ball went ballistic, particularly when it came from Sheffield and Warspite.
Ayanami, with a folding fan, gently wafted air to cool down Lafayette, alleviating the stress and heat from his body. Saint Louis placed a towel to his dampening side.
Unicorn performed her role as a support, providing him with medical care, specifically healing the bruises and minor injuries on his hand from blocking.
Laffey-459 and Javelin applied a bag of ice to the most injured part of his hand, where the ball had impacted. His injuries weren't life-threatening, but the alarming redness of his hand was enough to warrant immediate attention.
Laffey-459 spoke. "Can you still fight?"
Lafayette nodded. "Yes." He paused, observing her reaction. Her expression remained bland, but her tone clearly conveyed concern.
"I can't back down... everyone is watching me. I must see this game through to the very end." He looked at her. "I will get that trophy."
Laffey-459's brows furrowed slightly, and she gave him a light slap on the wrist. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
On the Court
Arizona walked to the other side of the net to help Sheffield get up. She was on her knees, panting and covered in sweat. Sheffield was pushing herself to her limits, enduring a stamina-breaking beach volleyball match against a Modern Kansen, specifically a Nuclear Powered Submarine with superior endurance.
As she tried to stand from the sand, a shadow loomed over her. She looked up to identify the person blocking the sun that shone brightly above her.
Arizona extended his hand to offer her assistance. "Need some help?" he asked, sounding like a 'knight in shining armor' but with the underlying complexity of a man with hidden secrets and a deeper personality.
Sheffield hesitated for a moment before finally accepting his outstretched hand. Her face remained stoic and expressionless, as if to conceal any emotion from the other Royal Navy Shipgirls in the crowd.
"You really know how to push yourself to the limits," Arizona commented, his voice faintly drained of energy, careful not to expose his Kansen nature. This was an underlying message from his disguised character.
"You don't have to do this; everyone is watching us," she said, her voice tinged with worry, her eyes darting left and right.
"As long as I'm not exposed... there's nothing to worry about," he replied, a subtle hint in his undertone that didn't quite match either his disguised personality or his true self.
Arizona assisted her until she regained her balance and control. Sheffield then walked off to where the other Royal Navy members were seated and resting. Their reactions, however, caught the attention of the rest of the onlookers.
Seated on the bench, Sirius asked, "Who's that?" She tilted her head, watching Arizona walk back to his side of the court.
Sheffield couldn't risk blowing his cover by revealing his name to the curious Maid. "No one, he's nothing to bother with."
Sirius pressed on, her index finger resting on her chin as she pondered. "But wasn't he an employee working at Miss Howe's Cookie Shop?"
"It's nothing for us to pry upon," Cruiser Belfast voiced her opinion. "Sheffield and I knew the man, and as far as I'm aware, you two seem closer than ever before."
Cruiser Belfast looked up at Sheffield. Sheffield maintained her typical persona and offered no further elaboration about Arizona; she and Cruiser Belfast kept it in the dark. She sat beside them and rested.
At the Royalties' Tent
Queen Elizabeth fumed, staring at the scoreboard that had barely moved. For years, the Royal Navy had dominated beach volleyball, and this was the very first time their score had been interrupted and halted. Now, she was humiliated, relegated to merely watching from the sidelines—just as she always did.
"What are they doing?!" Queen Elizabeth yelled, unable to contain her boiling rage.
But her fury quickly subsided as a hand on her right shoulder exerted an aura of authority far greater than her little tantrum. Seating right behind her was Laffey-200, exuding her dominance over the Royal Navy.
Laffey-200 was alone with the Royal Navy team, yet none of them dared to raise their voices at her; in fact, they couldn't even tell her what not to do or what to do. She was there to do as she pleased, as long as the Queen kept her word.
Queen Elizabeth had bribed her with an entire stock of Royal Navy Winery at Pearl Harbor Base. She hadn't anticipated that she would be the one dancing to the tune of the bunny she had bribed, instead of the other way around.
"Are we forgetting something?" Laffey-200 said, subtly reminding her of their agreement.
"Of course, I remember! Do you think I've forgotten already?!" she exclaimed in surprise.
"Good..."
Queen Elizabeth sweated profusely, imagining the Royal Navy Winery's storage being seized by this "Drunken Psycho Bunny."
Warspite leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Your Majesty, another stock of Winery will be arriving here next month; we will be out of Royal Wine for the rest of the month."
Queen Elizabeth held back tears for the Winery she cherished. Those were fine wines brewed in the Royal Isles, and she had used them as a bargain to get the Drunk Psycho Bunny on their side.
"For victory... I must sacrifice the winery," she muttered, surprised tears welling at the corners of her eyes.
On the American Side
Cmdr. Thomas had renewed his energy with a quick respite, but his knees remained the same—a few more rounds of running, and he would be in a dire situation.
"Thanks for the towel," Cmdr. Thomas said, returning it to Enterprise-6, who had given it to him.
"No-no, problem..." she responded, stuttering slightly in their awkward situation, as everyone's eyes were on them.
Cmdr. Thomas glanced at the bleachers where the rest were watching, primarily Enterprise-80 and her group. He knew they wanted to be supportive, but the way they often did it was quite embarrassing.
"I know they want to help, but sometimes they overstep things—and look at us," he said, spreading his arms expressively.
Enterprise-6 sighed. "I know it too... they often step over the line to try and get us close." She looked up and faced him. "Though... it was fun."
Cmdr. Thomas curved a small smile. "Yeah, me too. It was fun."
"Good luck," she said as Cmdr. Thomas returned to the court.
"Alright... guess who's back," William said teasingly, welcoming the Commander back onto the court.
"I just got some rest," Cmdr. Thomas responded.
"Focus. The next round won't be that easy anymore," Baltimore's voice sounded, serious and clear.
"Right!"
California stood with a placard raised high, displaying "Quarter or Set 5" on its white surface. (I'm total clueless bout Beach Volley)
The crowd roared with anticipation as the finals were upon them. This was the defining moment, where the victor would be declared, determining the best Beach Volleyball team in Azur Lane.
The Sakuran Shipgirls watched alongside the fervent crowd, unable to participate themselves. The last time they had entered the tournament, one of their Commanding Officers had nearly committed Seppuku in sheer embarrassment after their loss. The Sakuran longed to participate in this tournament, but ultimately decided against it. While they possessed the necessary skill, they lacked the confidence after the fallout with Azur Lane. Among those most eager to join were Atago and the other Cruisers.
"Aww... I wish we could join, like in the old days," Atago lamented, frowning as she and her sister watched the match.
"Please don't remind me of that," Takao said, a brief, painful flashback to their last volleyball defeat flashing through her mind.
"The last time we participated was nothing short of an embarrassment. We reached the finals only to get utterly trashed by the Royal Navy Team," Jintsu added, her tail excitedly flapping at the rising tension on the court.
"Why can't we join again? We have the right number of members to participate, so why can't we?" Choukai wailed.
Nagato, her small frame barely visible amidst the cheering masses, voiced her thoughts. "We can't. While we may have the right number of members, we lack coordination, and most importantly, we don't have replacements if this match drags on. We wouldn't even reach the final rounds; everyone out there is already on their knees."
The Sakuran Cruisers hung their heads low in contemplation. Nagato's words lingered, a stark reminder of their lack of preparation and sufficient substitutes for exhausted members. The modern Kansens still possessed stamina and energy, yet even Saratoga and Baltimore were on their knees, panting heavily. Cmdr. Thomas, it seemed, had already lost his personal endurance marathon.
Interrupting the sulking Sakura Shipgirls, Mikasa cut in. "Enough sobbing, you two. Let's just watch this." she urged, as the game was becoming more intense than ever.
A collective "Yeah" echoed among them as the cheering intensified.
The crowd was now completely enthralled by the game, especially by Lafayette as he faced overwhelming odds against his own height. Lafayette had become the undeniable star of the match, tirelessly fending off the relentlessly ballistic volleyball.
Just as the crowd reached a fever pitch, they all fell into a sudden, stunned silence. Laffey-200 was back on the court. Everyone's heartbeats could be heard, sweat trickling down their faces as palpable tension settled over the spectators.
Arizona, Baltimore, and Lafayette bravely welcomed the challenge on the court as Laffey-200 stepped back into the fray. On the other side, Cmdr. Thomas, William, and Saratoga were visibly sweating, their chances of survival seemingly as slim as a Soviet Soldier's on the Eastern Front.
The oppressive silence was finally broken by the haughty, unrestrained laugh of a noble brat. "Ha, ha, ha, ha... Victory is ours!" Queen Elizabeth proclaimed triumphantly.
Essex-12, with her fiery announcer's commentary, promptly ridiculed the Queen. "We have a lost child on the court!"
Everyone burst into laughter, as if to momentarily forget the immense tension swelling among the crowd. Queen Elizabeth let out a low growl, which was immediately answered by Saratoga's faint chuckle.
Illustrious, the second announcer, then spoke. "And now for the final round! This is where the victor will be declared, as we aim to break the stalemate on the scoreboard!"
Every member of Team America and Team Royal Navy moved to their designated positions, poised for the game to restart.
"Remember what I said," Arizona murmured. Lafayette looked up at him and nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.
Lafayette was tasked with blocking Laffey-200's attacks, as they were the only two Aegis Ships on the court with sophisticated radar and advanced calculation systems onboard. Their primary target remained the ball.
The whistle blew, signaling the beginning of the decisive game. Saratoga served the ball with her signature throw. Laffey-200 leaped and blocked the ball with practiced ease.
Belfast then jumped to strike the ball to the other side of the net. Lafayette, with his agile and small frame, swiftly and quickly blocked it in mid-air, surprising everyone present.
Essex-12, in her fiery announcer persona, exaggerated wildly. "It looks like our small, but terrible, Frigate is back in action!" She shook Illustrious vigorously as she yelled into the microphone. "Look at that, look at that! Our small Frigate is back in action!"
"Ye-ye-yeah-I see it," Illustrious managed to stammer, clearly disoriented from being shaken so hard.
The battle raged on, the ball rocketing from one side of the net to the other as players blocked and struck it with a force that far surpassed a typical spanking.
Laffey-200's Aegis Combat System detected the volleyball, which was now moving like a Cruise Missile heading directly for her. She struck it down with immense power towards Team America's side.
Lafayette, the quick and nimble Frigate, rushed in and blocked the ball, preventing it from hitting their side of the court. Dust and sand flew everywhere, testament to the exceedingly powerful force Laffey-200 had unleashed—far more potent than a typical spike.
Baltimore seized the opportune moment and smashed the ball to the other side of the net. Sirius attempted to block the speeding ball from hitting the ground but failed, tumbling in the sand.
Essex-12 once again went wild with the microphone. "Score for Team America! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA!"
The crowd cheered wildly for the Eagle Union side and spontaneously began singing the Star Spangled Banner in celebration.
As the crowd cheered, Laffey-200 and Lafayette had a moment of intense staring, as if exchanging complex Morse code messages that only they could decipher. The two exchanged silent messages of strength, their gazes answered by a volleyball that continually went ballistic on both sides.
Lafayette accepted Laffey-200's challenge. This time, there were no limiters, no holding back. Laffey-200 was going all in as Lafayette stood his ground, firm and resolute.
He then went full Super Saiyan in this battle, an aura of flames engulfing him as he threw the volleyball to the other side with fierce, unyielding force.
Laffey-200 seemed to understand the escalating trend and countered with her own strategy. She deflected it, waiting for Sheffield to throw it back.
Everyone on the court could feel the palpable tension between the two, their auras radiating with the intensity of an anime battle, as if they were exchanging fireballs in the form of a volleyball. The battle between a Murder Rabbit and a Pet Hamster was about to truly commence.
"What the?!" Cmdr. Thomas exclaimed after feeling the heat coming from the two.
"Did he just went Super Saiyan?" William confusingly asked, as Lafeyette goes on with will power.
"He still got some energy left." Arizona comment amidst the blowing sand and dust between the exchange of the two.
Warspite served the ball, launching it with her signature throw towards Team America's side. Baltimore immediately moved to block the speeding ball.
Arizona leaped, striking the ball with force. Sheffield, on the opposing side, jumped for the block, but the strike was merely a feint, causing her to fall for the deceptive play.
Then, Lafayette, with his comparatively small frame, sprang up in front of Arizona for the true spike on the ball, passing it swiftly over Sheffield's head in a quick flash.
That moment of their perceived success was abruptly and unexpectedly flushed down the toilet as Laffey-200 blocked the ball with such immense intensity that it soared to heights reaching beyond even propeller planes. Everyone's eyes followed the ball's ascent, only for it to unexpectedly intercept a soaring seagull mid-air.
At the announcer's cottage, both Essex-12 and Illustrious squinted, their gaze fixed upwards, tracking the ball's trajectory.
"Damn... poor seagull just got intercepted mid-air," Essex-12 remarked.
"Poor bird," Illustrious whispered, offering a silent prayer for the seagull's soul.
The ball reached its zenith, then began to plummet with increasing velocity. Cruiser Belfast moved swiftly, leaping to strike the ball over the net. William stood directly in the ball's path, intending to block it.
"I got this," he declared, facing the incoming ball head-on.
It was important to remember that William was a cargo ship, and a 360-degree awareness in defense was certainly not his forte. The force of the ball was immense, causing it to slip from his hands and strike him directly in the face. He was instantly knocked out by the impact.
With the ball's formidable velocity, William flipped over, his backside comically sticking out. Vestal and the rest rushed in to provide assistance to the knocked-out "Old Man."
"William, watch out!" Cmdr. Thomas's warning came too late.
"You know he's already knocked down, right...?" Arizona said, his timing comically off, as if for a dark comedic effect.
Vestal and Unicorn hurried to help the downed William, who lay precariously and awkwardly on the sand. In his prone position, he strikingly resembled Yamcha at his absolute best, a perfect one-to-one comparison.
Medic Manjuus rushed onto the court with stretchers and medical supplies to tend to the unconscious William. After carefully placing him on a stretcher, they quickly exited the court and headed towards the infirmary.
Team America was now down one player, as William had been effectively knocked out by a ball that felt less like a volleyball and more like an Anti-Ship Missile (ASM) to the face. To continue the game, they desperately needed a substitute for William, but no one immediately suited his position.
"Shit! We're down a player!" Baltimore exclaimed, their situation looking dire.
"We need a quick substitute!" Saratoga screamed.
To their luck, Frigate Belfast stepped forward to fill William's vacant position. Enterprise-80 was the one who suggested her for the Outside Hitter role. At that suggestion, tears welled up in Saratoga's eyes; they desperately needed that help in such a crucial situation, lacking members as they were.
Now, the two Belfasts were on opposing teams, battling for the trophy. Both maids, sharing the same namesake, had a deep understanding of the situation at hand. For now, however, they had a trophy to win.
Both shared the understanding of proving their respective capabilities. Cruiser Belfast had long desired this kind of opportunity to face her counterpart in battle. And similarly, Frigate Belfast too wanted to challenge her counterpart.
On the opposite side, Cruiser Belfast wore a confident smile as she faced her on the court. "Don't fall short in capabilities against me."
"I won't... but I certainly respect my predecessor. I won't hold back on you," Frigate Belfast replied.
Cruiser Belfast smirked, her lips curving. "That's the spirit."
The game resumed, now with Frigate Belfast filling the team's roster. Everyone in the game was eager to win the trophy, but no one was more eager than Saratoga to take that trophy home for the rest of the Eagle Union.
As the game reached its peak, the ones capturing all the attention and hype from the crowd were the two Aegis-equipped ships, Lafayette and Laffey-200. They were proving to be on a level no one could comprehend, leaving spectators wondering just how far they would push themselves.
Lafayette and Laffey-200 meticulously tracked the ball as it went in and out of both sides of the court. Like an air defense system, both intercepted the ball, not by using missiles, but with their own hands and formidable strength.
The crowd erupted, cheering wildly for the two, showcasing a heat of battle they hadn't witnessed before. Lafayette, with his nimble and compact frame, once again managed to block every strike Laffey-200 launched. Yet, in terms of raw strength, he was lagging, his hands bruised from continually blocking the ball, and his knees aching from diving repeatedly into the sand.
Time was quickly running out, and Team America desperately needed to break the tie. Both sides were visibly exhausted from the relentless striking and blocking; only time would tell if one of the teams would finally break down from total fatigue.
Even the Maids were showing signs of weariness, having never anticipated this level of intense sportsmanship from the Modern Kansens. While WW2 Warships were designed for sheer firepower, Modern Warships prioritized endurance and versatility, a stark difference now evident on the court.
The only players still retaining significant stamina were Warspite and Laffey-200 from Team Royal Navy. Cmdr. Thomas, on the other hand, was rapidly reaching his limits, his knees screaming for him to stop. He was, after all, the sole human participant in this Beach Volleyball match.
In a last-ditch effort to break the tie, Lafayette poured all his remaining energy into a powerful offensive. Saratoga served the ball. Laffey-200 blocked it with effortless ease, and Cruiser Belfast struck it back toward the American Team.
Baltimore dove to block the ball, and Lafayette let out a fierce battle cry as he struck the ball with more force than one could ever spank an ass.
The Maids were simply too exhausted to react to Lafayette's sudden burst of agility. Warspite was the last hope to block the ball, but to her surprise, the ball was propelled with a force she hadn't expected coming out from him.
The ball sailed over her head, hitting the side of their court without a single flinch from the Royal Navy team. Bremerton blew her whistle to announce the score, which was immediately followed by a buzzer signaling the end of the game.
Everyone was silent for a moment as the scoreboard updated the final tally: Team America: 25 to Team Royal Navy: 23. As the score was announced, the crowd erupted in the loudest cheers imaginable at that moment.
Cmdr. Thomas collapsed to his knees from sheer exhaustion. He wasn't built for the relentless endurance required for dodging, hopping, and striking; the energy drain was so profound that he couldn't stand any longer. His soul seemed to be escaping from his mouth as his body gave up, his spirit slowly drifting toward the light.
"Commander, commander... commander," Enterprise-6 called out to Cmdr. Thomas multiple times, desperately trying for him to cling to life and prevent from ascending to the heavens.
"Cmdr. Thomas, stay with us!" Hornet yelled, shaking him to consciousness.
"It's better not to shake him like that... he would reach the light quicker. It's better to give him some space to breathe; he's exhausted and needs some rest. Shaking him would only make it worse," Bunker Hill-76 quipped, stopping the two from quickening the Commander's ascent to the heavens.
The two ceased shaking the unconscious Commander as his soul visibly began to leave his body.
Lafayette celebrated in a grand manner, sliding on his knees across the sand, both bruised hands raised high in the air as if he had just won a boxing match against a superior opponent. The struggle had been intensely real; he was literally fighting for his life against Laffey-200. Ultimately, Team America was taking the trophy home.
Lafayette held the gleaming trophy in both hands, letting out a cry of victory. His friends cheered alongside his appointed Paladin/Babysitter. In the background, Frigate Belfast, Baltimore, and Saratoga jumped up, giving each other triumphant high-fives.
"Yay, we did it, we did it! The trophy is ours!" Saratoga shouted, overjoyed and bouncing with the feeling of victory.
"Yes. We did it," Baltimore repeated, her voice echoing with pride.
"Yes, indeed, we did win," Frigate Belfast affirmed.
Enterprise-80, with a slight smirk on her face, pointed at Lafayette and his friends celebrating with the victory trophy. "I raised that boy."
Bunker Hill-76 adjusted her glasses, then corrected some of the misconceptions. "She didn't mean to say it that way, but the truth is, Lafayette was kept under her wing until his wings were ready to face the open air."
Her statement that she "raised" him was fitting. No one had understood it in that particular way, but in a different sense—and Enterprise-6 was among those who hadn't.
Enterprise-6's mouth hung open in shock at Lafayette's success in winning the final round of the game, despite his injuries. But the greater shock was Enterprise-80's declaration that she had raised him like her own child.
"Wha-what?! You-you raised him? How???" she exclaimed in utter surprise.
"Well... that kid was built differently," Hornet said in amazement, pondering the implications of Enterprise-80's words.
Enterprise-80 spoke like a truly proud parent. "I trusted my boys; I knew they would do something extraordinary."
"What do you mean by that?" Enterprise-6 inquired.
Enterprise-80 smiled. "I've seen him sometimes building his strength on his own. He hates being left out among the boys, so I kept him under my wing," she explained like a proud parent. "Now look at him... he can finally stand on his own feet."
She then glanced at the sorry state of the Commander. "I think we should worry about him; he's out of shape," she said, pointing at Cmdr. Thomas lying unconscious on the sand.
At the Royals' Cottage
Queen Elizabeth was on her knees, openly weeping at the defeat of her team, the very one she had meticulously assembled to defeat the American Team.
Britannia no longer held the trophy, and their long streak of victories in Beach Volleyball was utterly ruined by the Americans, with their sheer stubbornness and what she perceived as stupidity.
Laffey-200 walked towards her, speaking nonchalantly, seemingly uncaring about their team's loss.
"Looks like you can keep your stock of wine and Winery. We lost. That's not part of the contract, so rejoice, you're not going to be sipping milk for the duration of the month," she stated, her tone like a complete insult, and then she turned to leave.
"Damn you! I asked you to be on the team to win!" Queen Elizabeth retorted, her voice trembling with fury.
Laffey-200 paused in her tracks. She turned to face the Queen. "Winning wasn't part of the deal. You only said I should join the team... remember?" Her tone was deceptively sweet, yet laced with playful teasing.
"Warspite?" Queen Elizabeth quickly turned her gaze to the Corgi nearby.
Warspite accessed her vast collective mind archive, which meticulously held information on all the Queen's transactions.
*Ring-ring*
"Yes, I do remember," she confirmed, raising an index finger.
"What was it?" Queen Elizabeth asked, her tone urgent.
"As I recall... yes, you did forget to mention winning. You only emphasized that she was to be on the team. And since the team lost, the deal is off, and the Winery is safe," Warspite explained with clinical precision.
"EH?" Queen Elizabeth was speechless, realizing she had omitted a crucial detail that could have ensured her team's victory.
At the Announcers' Cottage
From the cottage where the announcers sat and commented, a distinct sound of gunfire erupted.
Essex-12 grabbed an American Flag and an M4A1 Rifle. Like a true Florida-man, she waved the American flag vigorously while firing her gun into the air, Marine Corps style, chanting, "USA Number 1!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The sweet taste of Team America's victory smelled strongly of gunpowder, as Essex-12 filled the air with blank rounds. The muzzle of the M4A1 she held lit up like a firecracker for a Fourth of July festivity.
Illustrious wondered why she was so loud and prone to such explosive celebrations in the first place. Covering her nose with her handkerchief, Illustrious struggled to breathe through the dense smoke billowing from the rifle and the pile of burnt powder from ejected casings beneath the floor.
"How can you be so loud with such a celebration?" she asked, posing the foreign question of why Americans seemed to enjoy firing their guns like musical instruments.
"Let's hope I don't get tinnitus at the end of this," she whispered, hoping her eardrums would remain intact by the end of the day.
On the Court
Arizona slowly walked towards the side of the Royal Navy Team. He wasn't there to brag; instead, he approached a particular person.
He extended a hand. "I told you not to overexert your strength on this one," he said to the person in front of him.
Sheffield, still on the sand, took his offered hand, for the second time that day. "I appreciate your concern, but this was nothing. Injury and exhaustion are simply part of my job."
"Can you please stop being like that? You're a woman; you need to act like one," Arizona said, a statement that didn't sound like his usual self at all.
"That's rich coming from you... I am Her Majesty's servant, and I must follow her orders," Sheffield countered.
"You're incorrigible," Arizona muttered. "Can't a guy worry about you being so reckless? You're still recovering from the past operation, remember?"
Sheffield simply looked at him, no sound, just silence. A moment later, she sighed. "Fine... I'll take your advice and rest. I'll see you then," she said before leaving and heading towards the gathering of Royal Navy Shipgirls.
Arizona watched her go. As soon as he turned, he found himself face-to-face with two others: Pennsylvania and BB Arizona. The two sisters had knowing eyes locked onto him.
"What's with you guys?" he began, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"It seems our little boy is now a big man," Pennsylvania said, teasing the grown Arizona.
"Is there anything between you two?" BB Arizona asked, her big puppy-dog eyes piercing his soul, compelling him to confess.
Arizona merely facepalmed, groaning in irritation at the two. "Can the two of you stop? I'm not a child."
The day of their day off was filled with cherished memories that would forever mark Azur Lane's history. Everyone momentarily forgot the problems of the world, completely engrossed in enjoying this day.
This was their last day off, as tomorrow their operation against the Siren Hidden Bases would commence. But tonight, there would be another movie night for our Girls to complete the day.