A Festival of Stars (IC, OPEN)

[Legatia]

SDFS Mór.
When Caja had called us together, we had responded immediately and assembled at the Pontoon Harbour.
There was combat nearby, not close enough to be a threat to anyone but the participants, but still... someone was shooting at someone else. And that was bad, mainly because two of the participants were coming towards us.
Communication further established, that they were friendly, two girls by the names of Mahine and Majestic, and that they had spend the night fighting. Caja wanted to welcome them personally, and wanted us nearby to provide assistance.
With me were a few of my sisters, Adhbaile and Tocht, and, of course, Caja.
The Installation Type in Maid Bikini stood at the front, us three behind her, all three of us in swimsuits and ready to help the two haggard-looking girls – sure, they most assuredly could use a trip to a spa, maybe Nocht going to town on them with his gigantic magic massage hands, but it was understandable.
Caja alone was enough to stop entire fleets, so having a dedicated warship with us was unnecessary, even if one of the two caused problem.
And as they arrived in the Pontoon Harbour, they were instructed to our pier, Caja stepping forward: “Welcome to Cartreffa Island – I'm Caja, your host. First, and maybe most importantly of all, are you two injured?”

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

Mahine's salt-stained boots were the first to come in contact with the pontoons- in the observation of her seniors, particularly ones like Sistine, she might have requested permission to come aboard, but her legs were tired. The girl was absolutely a sight- at the first indication of it, she wasn't injured beyond a few bruises and scratches. The area about her chest, normally a pristine white with a patterned tie to complement- was covered in grey and black soot. Still in her rigging, the soot seemed to have originated from her forward and rear VLS mounts. The only actual 'damage' she had taken were the drooping and slightly pretzel-shaped six barrels of one of her Goalkeeper CIWS mounts, which was rendered unusable after its extensive period of firing and not from enemy action.

Glittering like a nine year old's art fair project was the girl's long and disheveled black hair, interspersed with reflective metallic bits from her chaff canister that shone white and grey in the sunlight. Majestic's hair shone as well, but that was more due to the fact it was still a well-kept blonde color that showed no signs of disuse. The transport ship was only armed with self-defense weapons- and it was Mahine's extraordinary effort in the prior night that had enabled that. Regardless, a gentle smirk came to her lips as she realized that her escort looked ridiculous.

Not that Mahine particularly cared at that moment.

"No injuries;" the destroyer answered with a shake of her head, her knee buckling just slightly in exhertion as the more graceful steps of the transport ship behind her came into place to steady her.

"Thank you, miss, for the welcome;" Majestic carried on the conversation more actively in the place of the destroyer, who was putting a good deal of effort just into standing upright and meeting their gazes respectfully. "My name is Majestic, of the Meridonian Navy, pennant Alpha- Two-Four Six, a Magnanimous class fleet supply ship. My escort here is.."

"-Mahine." The destroyer answered, too prideful to allow herself to be answered for while she still stood. While Majestic had good intentions, Mahine wouldn't allow herself to appear relaxed so soon.

"Mahine, ahem.. Pennant number Delta Four Three, also of the Meridonian Navy... ah, Helena-class air warfare destroyer."

The blonde-haired tanker was quick enough to carry the conversation after.

"On behalf of our nation and navy we offer our thanks for your hospitality, Miss Caja. Neither of us are injured but we are low on supplies, spare our fuel."

"It's pretty nice here;" the destroyer mused, her eyes glancing to the assembled party before her. "..You don't happen to have any alcohol here, do you?"

The supply ship behind her, who had been concerned about the state of her companion, could only offer an exasperated sigh.

[Mervay]

SDFAS Cairredas.
Eris and Enyo were just the odd couple as I remember them, Eris the more mischievous and active of the two, with Enyo being the sane man, or woman, of the two.
Their swimsuits did emphasize their beauty well.
“Coming girls! We have a lot of catching up to do as well!”
“You can say that twice!”, I replied as soon as they were close enough so that I didn't have to yell, and, once they were even closer, I went and used my mightiest attack, hugging Eris with a huge smile. “A few months it might have been, but you were sorely missed!”
Ferthainn meanwhile went for Enyo, a slightly smaller smile on her lips.
“Indeed you two were.”, she stated and then continued: “Do you want to share your stories first or...?”
“One moment!”, I cautioned my sister, then smiled at everyone as I motioned to our cooler: “First, does anyone want something to drink or an ice cream?”
My sister's hand shot up.

RKN Qallu.
I nodded.
Koch's swimsuit was an elegant piece, while the destroyer's did little to hide her battle scars. Both intended effects, I presumed.
“Please follow me.”, I stated and set myself into motion.
It was not a long distance, but the small meetup by the bar was getting into swing. Drinks were served, by Miss Leiwand no less, the well-endowed former tank landing ship turned mobile toy shop grinning as she served teas and other drinks. She continued to grin as Fazuzi, another RKN-Carrier, pulled her into his lap, the two quite obviously on very friendly terms. In another corner, SDFS F-1 Siorc, one of the submarine aircraft carriers the SDF-Navy had from the 20s, swapped stories with Naya, the large Teressian carrier laughing at something. Tacaí, a Selkie Drone Carrier, was theorizing with Ea and Karkadann.
And the plus ones were few and far between, Jalid und Lempo chatting with Maor and Nead Foiche about Footvolley of all things.
It was a party getting into swing, but first, we had to meet Kyra – the Kyrenaian Drone Carrier approached us with a huge smile.
“Koch and... Rosalina, right?”, she stated, then bowed her head with a smile, “RKN Kyra. It is a pleasure to meet you two.” She was a dark-skinned, grey-haired woman with green eyes and while she wore a swimsuit, she was decidedly not interested in swimming today, seeing that she wore ornamental vambraces and a few other choice pieces of jewelry. She had the aura of a dancer, an impression only emphasized by the pelvic curtain hanging from her bikini bottoms. “Handshake, bows, hugs or would you like drinks immediately?”

MRNS Eris and MRNS Enyo
The hugs did not catch the girls by surprised, however they did responded in kind by Eris hugging Cairredas with an big smile in her visage while Enyo hugged back Ferthainn, an small smile gracing her lips as well.
The Arsenal Ship and Command Ship just smiled at the remarks of the hospital ships, preparing themselves to settle down before being interrupted by Cairredas, which motioned to her cooler.

Enyo just let an small chuckle at the sight of Fairy enthusiastically raising her hand.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. I'd rather wait for later on to have ice cream, but I won't deny some water or lemonade." She replied with an fond smile sitting close to where the girls were, meanwhile Eris just smiled as she sat down as well.

"I'll take you on your offer, it's a sunny day after all!" She replied warmly, letting a beat pass. "So, how was the journey down here? I suppose it is a welcoming break huh?"

MRNS Commander Koch and MRNS Rosalina
It appeared that by the short walk, the party was beginning as everyone begun to recive their drinks and everyone in the bar having fun and enjoying as it got into full swing.
Soon enough they were met by possibly one of the organizers of the event; Kyrenaian Drone Carrier, RKN Kyra. Dark Skinned, Grey-haired and green-eyed; dressed more as a belly dancer if one had to explain quickly in how she was dressed and how she had that air around her. Both the carrier and destroyer looked and nodded, each with an smile that differed, while Koch had an serene smile on her visage, Rosalina had toothy grin with her.

"Either of the respective forms of greetings may be acceptable, there is not a traditional way to salute in an informal setting back from where we are from." The carrier replied to the curious question of the Drone Carrier, the Missile Destroyer just chuckled and nodded.

"She's correct in the assumption, we usually greet in such ways in more formal settings not during events like these; so I guess that a salute would be more in order?" She offered as a solution. "I mean since many of us are military ships present and the common custom is to always offer a salute, no matter which nation one is from, that would be a wise alternative." Such assumption was met with a nod by her friend and partner, adding her two cents as well.

"Indeed, plus it is also a custom that at least in Mervay is an form of chivalry as knights saluted in such way to show they were friendly, and while my partner here is half-yeongian and they have a different way to greet, a salute is an universal form of greeting that we can always rely to in such cases."

[Novaya Equestria]

SDFS Dragan.
I chuckled at Constantine's reply, but just as I wanted to answer, they got their call.
Thus, I pointed my tongs at her and said: “Later, after your group call.”
And as the four of them huddled around for their group call, I served other customers.
A few Scoths got themselves a piece of meat for a start, their older sibling figures shepherding them with care and smiles, Dochassa got herself a plate of grilled vegetables, Maor and Sealgaire (the helicopter carriers) got themselves and a few friends a few things to snack on during the Carrier Meetup.
The three of us fired a few quick comments at each other, which got the notoriously not-smiling Sealgaire to chuckle.
Ochtapas, with her tentacle hair making a few people keep a few centimetres more in distance, got herself grilled fish, even if she insisted in small ones.
The two Teressian cruisers Admiral vom Kyrschsee and Admiral vom Kyrschsee (yes, name siblings) got themselves one Bacon Bomb each – for them and the three Lattenzaun-class Corvettes, which had accompanied them.
And then, there was Rhiannon the Elder, the light cruiser of high renown, the blonde in the green swimsuit rocked it, despite being close to a century old. She did have the advantage of being an ageless shipgirl (well, shipwoman, there were enough shipboys, who made sure of that), though, so while Alexander would forever look like a Middle Schooler, Rhiannon was a woman still turning heads.
The green halterneck one-piece swimsuit with golden highlights and a deep cleavage, a light, white overcoat loosely hanging on her shoulders.
“Serving as a radio beacon, ey, Dragan?”, she asked and motioned into the direction of the quartet engrossed into their telepathy phone call or whatever, “Thought the Nochts didn't have that powerful of a radio suite...”
“We don't.”, I admitted, “They're using telepathy, paratech and other expensive horseshit instead of the good ol' phones.”
“If it works for them...”, Old Lady Rhi (don't call her that unless you have either a death wish, a firepower advantage or a range advantage, preferably all three) said with a shrug, “...I prefer my telephone. It even has a rotary dial.”
“The most important part.”, I agreed with a nod, “What can I get you, Rhi?”
“Steak.”, Rhi told me, a smile spreading on her face, “A big, fat, thick, juicy...” I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What?”
“That's what she said.”
“Gods, that meme is old!”, she burst out with a laugh, then pointed to a piece of meat on the grill, “That one looks good.”
Of course, it was the biggest, fattest, thickest, juiciest steak on the grill.
And of course, Old Lady Rhi got it.

Dragan and her friends would've realized by now that NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander were still knocked out, so they were unresponsive even when Dragan and her friends thought they really were.

"We still use conventional techs," Constantine said to Dragan, "but it won't be long before paratechnologies become commonplace throughout Armanya. Oh, and by the way, the way Atlas and Alexander said their minds, it is thanks to the United North American States which took over the Novayan archipelago after the First Great World War. As you can tell, the Novayans speak like North Americans while also being communalists."

NSCS Atlas soon interjects, "Constantine, the Saiyanese always speak their minds, and they are the ones who have way too much freedom, similar to how the North Americans have. In comparison, our IUA (International Union of Armanya) colleagues have individualistic characters and persoanlities but not to the extremes of both the North Americans and, on a greater extent, Saiyanese."

He continued, "Anyways, do let the two warships know that Exercise SHADED WINGS will take place seven days from now. In case you ask, Constantine, Exercise SHADED WINGS is a multilateral military exercise taking place in space and at the oceans. Triumvirate (Novayan Stellar Commonwealth, Saiyanese Stellar Federation, and New Roman Empire), Void Coalition, Paranormal Forces Coalition, Alliance, GADI, UNE (United Nations of Earth), and Aurora Commissariat shipfolks will be joining in on the exercise, which would last for two-three weeks depending on the weather conditions."

"Understood, NSCS Atlas," Constantine replied, "I'll tell them as soon as they wake up."

[The Selkie]

"I suppose we are all built to destroy things, just in different ways. A carrier uses bombers, a destroyer uses missiles, and battleships use cannons...But thinking of us as people is more pleasant than thinking about what we were built for-" Rogavis' mind suddenly ground to a halt. He ran Seraphiel's words through his head again. More particularly, he thought about the words, "when she doesn't want to be called Cartreffa Island." Did that mean... "Nah, that's too crazy to be true," Rogavis thought, "But maybe I should check..."

"Is...is the installation type, Caja, the island? Is the island we are standing on a giant boat?" Rogavis asked as he looked at the ground like he expected it to talk. If it did, he would either be scared or intrigued. The idea of a ship that took the form of an island was something of ancient tales. He had heard some bizarre things from an aircraft carrier named Million Virtues, who was so nice he bordered on being obnoxious. But they were all myths and legends Virtues had heard while being deployed across the sea. An actual island-sized ship was the kind of thing someone would say as a joke. "But, that question aside, if you would take me to Caja to be patched up, I'd be grateful. Being able to move like I once did would be... Nice," Rogavis said with a smile.

RKN Seraphiel.
I smiled and giggled at the mental image of Caja as one gigantic boat.
Absurd as it was, the priciple behind her existence and mine were similar, but that was another story. For now, I pulled a smartphone from Victoria's Secret Compartment.
I gave Rogavis a wink.
A few button taps later, I showed the result to Rogavis.
“Sent an SMS to Caja.”, I told him, “'At your earliest convenience', as they say, but I am sure, that she'll be here soon. She is our hostess, so she is most likely quite busy.”
I exhaled and put the smartphone into my lap.
“As for what she is... Formally, you are at the SDF-Navy Yard Cartreffa Island. This is this installation, from the pontoon harbour to the small temple up the hill.”, I explained, “Caja is the... personification, spirit, whatever you wanna call it, of that Naval Yard, much in the same way as the two of us are Kanmusu – only that she is the one of an installation, hence Installation Type. Don't worry, they are rare, at least around these parts!”

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

Mahine's salt-stained boots were the first to come in contact with the pontoons- in the observation of her seniors, particularly ones like Sistine, she might have requested permission to come aboard, but her legs were tired. The girl was absolutely a sight- at the first indication of it, she wasn't injured beyond a few bruises and scratches. The area about her chest, normally a pristine white with a patterned tie to complement- was covered in grey and black soot. Still in her rigging, the soot seemed to have originated from her forward and rear VLS mounts. The only actual 'damage' she had taken were the drooping and slightly pretzel-shaped six barrels of one of her Goalkeeper CIWS mounts, which was rendered unusable after its extensive period of firing and not from enemy action.

Glittering like a nine year old's art fair project was the girl's long and disheveled black hair, interspersed with reflective metallic bits from her chaff canister that shone white and grey in the sunlight. Majestic's hair shone as well, but that was more due to the fact it was still a well-kept blonde color that showed no signs of disuse. The transport ship was only armed with self-defense weapons- and it was Mahine's extraordinary effort in the prior night that had enabled that. Regardless, a gentle smirk came to her lips as she realized that her escort looked ridiculous.

Not that Mahine particularly cared at that moment.

"No injuries;" the destroyer answered with a shake of her head, her knee buckling just slightly in exhertion as the more graceful steps of the transport ship behind her came into place to steady her.

"Thank you, miss, for the welcome;" Majestic carried on the conversation more actively in the place of the destroyer, who was putting a good deal of effort just into standing upright and meeting their gazes respectfully. "My name is Majestic, of the Meridonian Navy, pennant Alpha- Two-Four Six, a Magnanimous class fleet supply ship. My escort here is.."

"-Mahine." The destroyer answered, too prideful to allow herself to be answered for while she still stood. While Majestic had good intentions, Mahine wouldn't allow herself to appear relaxed so soon.

"Mahine, ahem.. Pennant number Delta Four Three, also of the Meridonian Navy... ah, Helena-class air warfare destroyer."

The blonde-haired tanker was quick enough to carry the conversation after.

"On behalf of our nation and navy we offer our thanks for your hospitality, Miss Caja. Neither of us are injured but we are low on supplies, spare our fuel."

"It's pretty nice here;" the destroyer mused, her eyes glancing to the assembled party before her. "..You don't happen to have any alcohol here, do you?"

The supply ship behind her, who had been concerned about the state of her companion, could only offer an exasperated sigh.

SDFS Mór.
Upon closer inspection, apart from glittery chaff in the hair, warped CIWS-barrels and a lot of soot, plus a few scratches and bruises, Mahine seemed to be alright, while her charge was almost pristine.
It was the escort's job to make sure, that the charge was alright and, truth being told, it seemed as if the destroyer had earned her drink.
Adhbaile seemed to be of a similar opinion. My sister stepped forward, producing a smile onto her lips: “Whiskey, beer, ale, or maybe something more fitting the climate?”, she asked and produced a small pack of cans of ice-cold ale, Eascann Dark Ale, from her rigging, tossing me one, knowing my preferences. “I can surely oblige with any request... and if not, we have the girls at the bar!”
Ice successfully broken.
Meanwhile, Caja produced a pair of keys and handed them to Majestic. “The keys for your bungalow in the Settlement.”, she explained with a smile, “Number 12-4, with two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchenette, the works. Hammacker...” She motioned to the end of the pier, where the silver-haired Teressian cruiser and her amphibious truck stood. “...can drive you there, if you need to refresh and maybe change. If not, she'll take us all to the party.”

MRNS Eris and MRNS Enyo
The hugs did not catch the girls by surprised, however they did responded in kind by Eris hugging Cairredas with an big smile in her visage while Enyo hugged back Ferthainn, an small smile gracing her lips as well.
The Arsenal Ship and Command Ship just smiled at the remarks of the hospital ships, preparing themselves to settle down before being interrupted by Cairredas, which motioned to her cooler.

Enyo just let an small chuckle at the sight of Fairy enthusiastically raising her hand.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. I'd rather wait for later on to have ice cream, but I won't deny some water or lemonade." She replied with an fond smile sitting close to where the girls were, meanwhile Eris just smiled as she sat down as well.

"I'll take you on your offer, it's a sunny day after all!" She replied warmly, letting a beat pass. "So, how was the journey down here? I suppose it is a welcoming break huh?"

MRNS Commander Koch and MRNS Rosalina
It appeared that by the short walk, the party was beginning as everyone begun to recive their drinks and everyone in the bar having fun and enjoying as it got into full swing.
Soon enough they were met by possibly one of the organizers of the event; Kyrenaian Drone Carrier, RKN Kyra. Dark Skinned, Grey-haired and green-eyed; dressed more as a belly dancer if one had to explain quickly in how she was dressed and how she had that air around her. Both the carrier and destroyer looked and nodded, each with an smile that differed, while Koch had an serene smile on her visage, Rosalina had toothy grin with her.

"Either of the respective forms of greetings may be acceptable, there is not a traditional way to salute in an informal setting back from where we are from." The carrier replied to the curious question of the Drone Carrier, the Missile Destroyer just chuckled and nodded.

"She's correct in the assumption, we usually greet in such ways in more formal settings not during events like these; so I guess that a salute would be more in order?" She offered as a solution. "I mean since many of us are military ships present and the common custom is to always offer a salute, no matter which nation one is from, that would be a wise alternative." Such assumption was met with a nod by her friend and partner, adding her two cents as well.

"Indeed, plus it is also a custom that at least in Mervay is an form of chivalry as knights saluted in such way to show they were friendly, and while my partner here is half-yeongian and they have a different way to greet, a salute is an universal form of greeting that we can always rely to in such cases."

SDFAS Cairredas.
Hugs were exchanged and aside from Ferthainn volunteering for an ice and a drink, Enyo only went for a drink, while Eris took both as well. I was more on Enyo's wavelength, as I handed out ice cream, wooden spoons, lemonades and settled down myself.
Ferthainn replied to the question: “It was a sight to see, our trip down – we made the trip with the rest of the ships of the Navy here, sold it off as a shakedown cruise, while they sold it as a training course. Something, something, escorting other vessels. Of course, they went for Rigging Mode.”
“Mostly.”, I added and opened my glass bottle of lemonade. Mind you, this was Selkie-Lemonade, meaning the lemon-tasting sugar with a bit of water. “But yes, it is a welcome break from shakedowns and training and so on... while not yet commissioned, we are planned as Operative Reserves, especially when the winter gets rough again.”
“Or stormy season.”, my sister added, sighed, “How about you two? Enjoyed sailing down?”

RKN Qallu.
Kyra smiled and raised her hand for a salute, “And that is, why I am asking – lest anyone feels offended.”, she explained, “Though in the Sultanate, a short bow...” I demonstrated with a smile. “...would be acceptable for situations like this. But we aren't in the Sultanate, now are we?”
I nodded. “Indeed we are not. The Selkie, from what I know, would go for bows as well.”
Kyra nodded, wanted to reply, as two arms slung around her.
They belonged to an almost robotic blonde, light-skinned woman, wide pointy ears and blue eyes, who wore a non-descriptive, white one-piece swimsuit.
As Kyra yelped, she turned her head to another woman, this one dark-skinned, tall woman with grey hair and bemused green eyes. She wore a black and red double-strapped bikini.
“Declaration.”, the blonde said in a monotone voice, “I have fetched Kyra.”
“That you have.”, said the Monster of Salalkubz, commonly known as RKN Karkadann. She turned to us. “My apologies, we just need Kyra for a moment, if you don't mind?”
And off they were.
I turned to Koch and Rosalina with a smirk. “Drinks. Wanna have some?”

Dragan and her friends would've realized by now that NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander were still knocked out, so they were unresponsive even when Dragan and her friends thought they really were.

"We still use conventional techs," Constantine said to Dragan, "but it won't be long before paratechnologies become commonplace throughout Armanya. Oh, and by the way, the way Atlas and Alexander said their minds, it is thanks to the United North American States which took over the Novayan archipelago after the First Great World War. As you can tell, the Novayans speak like North Americans while also being communalists."

NSCS Atlas soon interjects, "Constantine, the Saiyanese always speak their minds, and they are the ones who have way too much freedom, similar to how the North Americans have. In comparison, our IUA (International Union of Armanya) colleagues have individualistic characters and persoanlities but not to the extremes of both the North Americans and, on a greater extent, Saiyanese."

He continued, "Anyways, do let the two warships know that Exercise SHADED WINGS will take place seven days from now. In case you ask, Constantine, Exercise SHADED WINGS is a multilateral military exercise taking place in space and at the oceans. Triumvirate (Novayan Stellar Commonwealth, Saiyanese Stellar Federation, and New Roman Empire), Void Coalition, Paranormal Forces Coalition, Alliance, GADI, UNE (United Nations of Earth), and Aurora Commissariat shipfolks will be joining in on the exercise, which would last for two-three weeks depending on the weather conditions."

"Understood, NSCS Atlas," Constantine replied, "I'll tell them as soon as they wake up."

SDFS Dragan.
“Don't know, don't care, don't give a fuck.”, I told Constantine in no uncertain terms (of course, after she and her friend on the phon decided to talk about a military exercise on a public beach). She could pull the Well, acktsually...! card with other people, I simply did not care for that kind of conversation and Old Rhi seemed to be of a similar opinion. “More importantly, are your friends alright?”
“Yeah, Caja would be quite miffed, if people had Main Engine Failures on her island...”, Old Rhi agreed, then handed me her plate. “Hold that for a moment.”
While I did so, she went over, knelt between Alexander and Atlas, checked their pulses and forced their eyelids up, before she rose again and went back to us.
“Knocked out cold.”, she declared, then looked at Koikaze (with Atlas and Alexander knocked out and Constantine juggling between us and her call, she was free), “Seriously, lass, what sort of friend are you, that you don't even check, if your companion is alright?”
“Well, actually...”, I began with a grin, “It is all a para-technique and through some mumbo-jumbo bullshit of convenience, she knows, that he is alright... or she is just used to him going out like a lamp every now and again that it doesn't phase her.”
Rhiannon snorted – it was a very obvious parody of Constantine, but it amused the green-dressed woman. Smiling, she turned to Koikaze, leaving Constantine to her conference call.
“See to it, that the two are more or less comfortable.”, she ordered, fully the flagship, “If it takes a few minutes until they're back up on their feet, fetch one of the tenders, there should be enough around. And once they're back up, have them drink.”
“Water, preferably.”, I added, then clicked my tongs into the direction of the bar, “Cooled or uncooled, you'll get it there.”

[Novaya Equestria]

SDFS Dragan.
“Don't know, don't care, don't give a fuck.”, I told Constantine in no uncertain terms (of course, after she and her friend on the phon decided to talk about a military exercise on a public beach). She could pull the Well, acktsually...! card with other people, I simply did not care for that kind of conversation and Old Rhi seemed to be of a similar opinion. “More importantly, are your friends alright?”
“Yeah, Caja would be quite miffed, if people had Main Engine Failures on her island...”, Old Rhi agreed, then handed me her plate. “Hold that for a moment.”
While I did so, she went over, knelt between Alexander and Atlas, checked their pulses and forced their eyelids up, before she rose again and went back to us.
“Knocked out cold.”, she declared, then looked at Koikaze (with Atlas and Alexander knocked out and Constantine juggling between us and her call, she was free), “Seriously, lass, what sort of friend are you, that you don't even check, if your companion is alright?”
“Well, actually...”, I began with a grin, “It is all a para-technique and through some mumbo-jumbo bullshit of convenience, she knows, that he is alright... or she is just used to him going out like a lamp every now and again that it doesn't phase her.”
Rhiannon snorted – it was a very obvious parody of Constantine, but it amused the green-dressed woman. Smiling, she turned to Koikaze, leaving Constantine to her conference call.
“See to it, that the two are more or less comfortable.”, she ordered, fully the flagship, “If it takes a few minutes until they're back up on their feet, fetch one of the tenders, there should be enough around. And once they're back up, have them drink.”
“Water, preferably.”, I added, then clicked my tongs into the direction of the bar, “Cooled or uncooled, you'll get it there.”

When Dragan asked her that, Koikaze was already kneeling and tending to Atlas and Alexander. "Actually, it will take a few hours for the two to recover," explained Koikaze to Rhiannon, "There are chances the two might wake up in a few minutes, but if they exceeds that timespan unconsciously then I'll have to bring them to the foxholes Atlas and I made. Constantine?"

Constantine turns to Koikaze and said, "Sure. I'll make sure to help bring one of the two to the foxholes-- Wait, what do you mean, foxholes, Koikaze?" Koikaze replied, "We had to dig ourselves a foxhole for us to sleep in after being unable to find the one who has the keys to the cabins." Constantine looked at her for a few seconds before shrugging. "Very well, but only if we put the two on their seats so they can wake up and eat."

"Agreed, Constantine," replied Koikaze before the Nova Roman warship continues talking to NSCS Atlas.

[The Grand Western Empire]

RKN Seraphiel.
I smiled and giggled at the mental image of Caja as one gigantic boat.
Absurd as it was, the priciple behind her existence and mine were similar, but that was another story. For now, I pulled a smartphone from Victoria's Secret Compartment.
I gave Rogavis a wink.
A few button taps later, I showed the result to Rogavis.
“Sent an SMS to Caja.”, I told him, “'At your earliest convenience', as they say, but I am sure, that she'll be here soon. She is our hostess, so she is most likely quite busy.”
I exhaled and put the smartphone into my lap.
“As for what she is... Formally, you are at the SDF-Navy Yard Cartreffa Island. This is this installation, from the pontoon harbour to the small temple up the hill.”, I explained, “Caja is the... personification, spirit, whatever you wanna call it, of that Naval Yard, much in the same way as the two of us are Kanmusu – only that she is the one of an installation, hence Installation Type. Don't worry, they are rare, at least around these parts!”

Rogavis smiled a bit when Seraphiel winked at him. Reminded him of Emperor's Light whenever he rarely complimented Rogavis, for some reason. He looked up from the ground. He was a bit sad and relieved that Caja wasn't an enormous boat. On one hand, it would've been cool if she was. On the other hand, it would be kinda weird to know he was standing on a sentient ship. The biggest ship he'd been on was Lunar Tide, a 78,000-ton aircraft carrier. If Caja was a boat, she'd make any other aircraft carrier or battleship look like a paper ship. Such a feat of construction was practically impossible, it occurred to Rogavis. Not to mention impractical.

"Kanmusu...I guess that's the technical name for Ship-Warriors, as the Empire calls them. And I can confirm that Installation Types are rare in my homeland. I haven't even heard of one from the Imperial Flagship, Emperor's Light. And he's been just about everywhere!" Rogavis enthusiastically stated. He was trying to suppress his hope of being able to walk regularly once more, if only for a while, but was failing. The thought of being fully operational was a joyous one to Rogavis. Now he only had to hope the Empire found the funds to permanently restore him and send him out as an active warship...

[Aaaaaa]

Marcharnnau.
Of course I had no idea that An thought of my explanation as if I had spoken to a child – that had not been my intention, but me patting her shoulder had been meant as an encouraging friendly gesture.
That it had this tremendous meaning for her, I did not know either.
An's story was not a happy one.
In either case, with the new shirt, she looked better. Her shirt from before had been quite worn and old, but while this one was not young, it was well cared for. It looked good on her.
I smiled at the question: “Well, that depends a bit on you... do you want to join Ganembearn in her project of building a Sand Harbour Fort, and by what looks like an entire landscape...” I directed her attention to the area of busy sand architecturing, where several structures were starting to rise, while several teams were busy at work. “...or we get a good look around, maybe have a drink or ice cream, and see, if we can't find a nice shiplad or two.”
I winked at the last one.

An gawked at the sand structures being built. They were coming along quite nicely, and at good pace too. The whole scene gnawed at her, the supposed purpose of her existence as hammered home by the team back home was quickly breaking apart. The implication that beings created for the sole intent of destroying any massive warship in their wake would spend their time making dainty sand castles was too jarring for her to accept. She looked down for a moment, thinking to herself. It was quickly over when Marcharnnau gave her another option.

Drinks. That was all she had to say.

An assumed she meant something more appropriate for the beach setting - perhaps some lemonade or juice, but given her current situation, she wouldn't pass up the possibility of drinking without Aubise's constant supervision and berating. The other two things she mentioned, ice cream and putting up with men, she could give or take. Marcharnnau's winking at the last part piqued her curiosity, though. An was around men all the time in Aaaaaa, and they were all the same; Angry, belittling reprobates who had total control of her life. Perhaps these "shiplads" were different? She wasn't convinced.

Regardless, she knew her choice immediately. "Well.. if it's alright with you, I could go for a drink." Perhaps that was a little too casual? "B-because, you know, it's pretty hot right now, so..."

[Legatia]

SDFS Mór.
Upon closer inspection, apart from glittery chaff in the hair, warped CIWS-barrels and a lot of soot, plus a few scratches and bruises, Mahine seemed to be alright, while her charge was almost pristine.
It was the escort's job to make sure, that the charge was alright and, truth being told, it seemed as if the destroyer had earned her drink.
Adhbaile seemed to be of a similar opinion. My sister stepped forward, producing a smile onto her lips: “Whiskey, beer, ale, or maybe something more fitting the climate?”, she asked and produced a small pack of cans of ice-cold ale, Eascann Dark Ale, from her rigging, tossing me one, knowing my preferences. “I can surely oblige with any request... and if not, we have the girls at the bar!”
Ice successfully broken.
Meanwhile, Caja produced a pair of keys and handed them to Majestic. “The keys for your bungalow in the Settlement.”, she explained with a smile, “Number 12-4, with two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchenette, the works. Hammacker...” She motioned to the end of the pier, where the silver-haired Teressian cruiser and her amphibious truck stood. “...can drive you there, if you need to refresh and maybe change. If not, she'll take us all to the party.”

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Oooh, local favorites sound right up my alley." Mahine held a hand out if and when a beverage was to be offered to her. "Give me whatcha got."

Majestic looked over the keys and held them tightly in her hands as she spoke instead with Caja. "I'm fine, but miss chaffhead here might appreciate a chance to shower and freshen up. If you could get us a lift and allow us a few moments, we'd love to attend."

"Oi, who the hell are you calling chaffhead! If it weren't for me you'd be a decorative piece on a reef." Angrily poking the transport ship's cheek, Mahine earned a bemused giggle from her companion.

"Ah, unless there's anything else you might wish to settle before we clean up?" Majestic hadn't even bothered to ask about replenishment costs and other such details- now was that chance to clear them up.

[Champlaine]

It was a cool morning along the shores.

*CLICK*

Just some country rock music on a portable battery powered radio. Depardieu sat beside the contraption for a moment, until her finger reached and changed the channel.

*CLICK*

«Quand tes mains voudraient bien~
Quand tes doigts n'osent pas~»

Ugh, romance ... brought to you by Jean-Philippe Smet. Que descanse en paz...

*CLICK*

«Jouer au docteur non conventionne~
J'y ai joue aussi, je sais de quoi j'cause~»

NRGH, more romance ... by Renaud Sechan.

The words were enough to remind her to button her coat, covering her swimming leotard before she changed the channel.

*CLICK*

«Half a minute~!
Yayayaya-ya~!
Lalala~
Half a minute~!
Ooooo~
Lalalala-me-ha~»

Depardieu smiled softly upon hearing Polish-British singer, Basia Trzetrzelewska. The subsequent Brasilian bossa nova piano and cello reminded her of San Francisco, Mexico, where she first visited Playa del Oceano in 2000 and, more importantly, her Mexican counterparts, ARM Profirio Diaz and ARM Francisco Madero. It was a series of joint navy training exercises between Mexico and Champlaine, particularly carrier and marine operations.

The main attraction of the whole affair was Operation Fantome Gloussant.

The point d'attaque principal? Bahia Bodega.

The initial plan was to strike the Bodega shore, but the real assault occurred at Punto de los Reyes, where the defences were the weakest. Le probleme? The extremely steep and brittle cliff faces. Oui, there were expansive beaches at Punto de los Reyes, but they were either inland or well protected.

The approach Champlaine chosen was to strike in the day, not at night - the latter something the Mexicans were strongly expecting. The most important factor for the Champlaines was the weather, and, in their case, the fog, which provided cover for the marines and the MAT teams, the latter tasked with scaling the cliffs and disrupting Mexican reinforcements and logistics. One perpetual advantage the Mexicans possessed, both civilian and military wise, was early warning systems or electronics. If there was a possible fire or earthquake, they would know about it, days in advance. The same applied for weather and traffic, which they considered with exponential consideration on par with monitoring Champlaine communications and movements.

Once the Champlaine invasion occurred, Mexican units knew where and when to move, immediately responding to the invasion and the subsequent disruptions along the way. The Champlaine solution was stealth and surprise. By scaling the cliffs on a foggy day, air support would be unavailable while offering limited visibility for both sides, barring the Mexicans from identifying and suppressing Champlaine infantry and armour. By the time fog lifted several days later, the Champlaines have taken Bahia Bodega and the west end of nearby Santa Rosa.

The exercise was not a test of defense or deceit. Rather, it was to test Mexican early warning and counter strike capabilities. The Mexican military was ready and aware of the Champlaine assault, and knew where and when to move. But how to respond to surprise or stealth was the major flaw. Most notably, Mexican armour and mechanised infantry were repeatedly harassed by the MATs, who were equipped with mines and shaped charges, not to destroy them, but to block the roads and leave the infantry stranded or trapped. With air support, the Mexicans would know their locations, but without it, they were wide open for ambushes, especially on higher ground or the surrounding foliage.

This was the ingenuity of Operation Fantome Gloussant.

But what about Champlaine?

What would happen if the assault failed or the Mexicans deduced the strategy?

For that, Depardieu was only left to think by herself as she turned and stared at the nearly perfect sand-sculptured recreation of Bahia Bodega. It may have been a huge joint training exercise and nobody was hurt, but it certainly left Depardieu to ponder, even if her comrades were successful and could do it again. There was quite an enormous amount of figurative food for thought…

[Legatia]

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Waaaaaaaah, that hit the spot~!"

Emerging from the pair's bungalow after a extensive shower, Mahine had almost forgotten how good it felt to take an actual proper wash instead of the rushed process of a combat shower she'd been used to the past few weeks. Majestic had opted to simply refresh her clothes and wash her face, not daring to attempt a shower knowing her battle-worn compatriot definitely needed the hygiene and the energy boost the cleaning would provide her.

The results were clear, with only a few pesky remnants of metal shards still littering in her hair- a few that might catch a glint should they catch the sun at the right angle- but the soot, grog, and smell of combat was gone from the both of them. Mahine didn't have much of a change of clothes beyond her uniform, and so settled for short shorts and a tanktop that left her midriff exposed. Not entirely proper outfit, but she wasn't known for being a proper lady type- that was Majestic's shtick. Majestic hadn't gone through anywhere near the ringer the air warfare destroyer had, and so her garments remained relatively unmolested.

Presumably, the truck that had whisked them there would also be waiting to take them to the party, and that truck would pass by a solitary Champlainois girl listening to the radio alongside the shore. A familiar tune caught the ears of the suntanned destroyer, who gave a quick warning to her comrade before vaulting over the side of the moving vehicle.

"I'll catch up with you later! Save a drink for me!"

Her feet dug into the sand for only a moment before it kicked up behind her, granules showering the path behind her as she made her way over to the girl. She wasn't familiar with the figure, but the song-

"Oooi, that's Lewska! I love that guy, they play him back in the fleet bar in Port Sistine all the time." A friendly smile rested on the girl's face, as she then took notice of the large sand-creation before her. She took care in taking a step backwards and to her right, both to create distance from the sculpture and to put herself in the sightlines of the girl.

"Diggin' the creation you got going on here. Is this home? You must remember it fondly, looking this well-made."

[Champlaine]

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Waaaaaaaah, that hit the spot~!"

Emerging from the pair's bungalow after a extensive shower, Mahine had almost forgotten how good it felt to take an actual proper wash instead of the rushed process of a combat shower she'd been used to the past few weeks. Majestic had opted to simply refresh her clothes and wash her face, not daring to attempt a shower knowing her battle-worn compatriot definitely needed the hygiene and the energy boost the cleaning would provide her.

The results were clear, with only a few pesky remnants of metal shards still littering in her hair- a few that might catch a glint should they catch the sun at the right angle- but the soot, grog, and smell of combat was gone from the both of them. Mahine didn't have much of a change of clothes beyond her uniform, and so settled for short shorts and a tanktop that left her midriff exposed. Not entirely proper outfit, but she wasn't known for being a proper lady type- that was Majestic's shtick. Majestic hadn't gone through anywhere near the ringer the air warfare destroyer had, and so her garments remained relatively unmolested.

Presumably, the truck that had whisked them there would also be waiting to take them to the party, and that truck would pass by a solitary Champlainois girl listening to the radio alongside the shore. A familiar tune caught the ears of the suntanned destroyer, who gave a quick warning to her comrade before vaulting over the side of the moving vehicle.

"I'll catch up with you later! Save a drink for me!"

Her feet dug into the sand for only a moment before it kicked up behind her, granules showering the path behind her as she made her way over to the girl. She wasn't familiar with the figure, but the song-

"Oooi, that's Lewska! I love that guy, they play him back in the fleet bar in Port Sistine all the time." A friendly smile rested on the girl's face, as she then took notice of the large sand-creation before her. She took care in taking a step backwards and to her right, both to create distance from the sculpture and to put herself in the sightlines of the girl.

"Diggin' the creation you got going on here. Is this home? You must remember it fondly, looking this well-made."

«Half a minute~!»

That was the last stanza of the song before it ended moments later, crowds applauding to the female singer before dying down. Indeed, it took Depardieu half a minute to deduce some possible weaknesses in the Champlaine battle plan. What if the shores swept the landing crafts away? What if the MAT teams never made it?

«Bossa Nova, before it became study music! BNR, 104 point 9! Cheerio!» The male radio announcer said before transitioning to another song.

The calmer piano and bass was enough for her to concentrate. The operation took 49 hours, but the fog could have cleared in that timespan. Not like the Mexicans were not uniformed of the weather the whole time, but they needed relief as soon as possible. Without air support, they had no way to stop the Champlaine mechanised infantry from storming the beaches and then the roads to Santa Rosa. Not like they had anti armour capabilities, especially since they had tanks at a base outside nearby Petaluma. The fact the MATs caused so much disruption and confusion prevented vehicles from transporting reinforcements to the assault. If the fog cleared under 24 hours, air support would have been able to locate the MATs and APCs, thus allowing for a proper response if not suppression until reinforcements arrive.

«Hmm?» Depardieu hummed and looked up, seeing a figure approach her and the miniature scale sand sculpture.

Wait, he? Lewska? But…Basia is a woman. She has a husband? If so, Depardieu was blatantly surprised, fashioning a wide eyed gaze for a moment. That was something she would inquire later.

Home? Hmm, quite an interesting deduction.

«Oh, merci, merci» the brown haired Champlaine said cordially, standing up and caring to brush the sand off her arms before removing her kepi. «Home, vous dites? Hmm, presque si j’etais mexicain. Mais j’adore les plages la-bas.»

Taking a stern look at the girl, she curtly nodded. «Je m’appelle Leito Depardieu.»

[The Selkie]

Previously on A Festival of Stars...
Wardrobe malfunctions are not fun and instead of giving in to the immediate urge to exact revenge in my half-natural state, Ladra and a few others convinced Lodan Lir to change into undamaged clothes. But now, with her dignity restored, it is time to hunt...

SDFS Lodan Lir.
A one-piece school swimsuit.
Dark blue, of course, thin straps, and quite form-fitting. At least it was not the model with the name tag. But still... the lewdmarines would get the revenge for their pranks! My bikini would be avenged!
I stomped back towards the beach with Ladra in tow, my sister watching with bemusement, nodding to the two Kyrenaian nuclear submarines, who had advised us earlier. I had Shaytin's rash guard over my arm as I approached her.
“Thank you again.”, I stated and gave her the short jacket, “If you're ever in Wembury, call me. Drinks will be on me.”
“I will remember it.”, she stated, bowing her head lightly, “Same if you are ever in Surya.”
I grinned. “If they have good Aragh...”
“They do.”, Shaytin replied and then held something out – a bikini top with cut straps. “I believe, this is yours?”
I nodded. “Indeed it is... those lewdmarines...!”
“Good hunting.”, the Kyrenaian vessel said with some bemusement in her voice.
There was a dangerous glint in my eyes as I stuffed the remains of my top in Victoria's Secret Compartment and replied: “Oh, it will be fun!”
And with that, I turned towards the water.
“Don't worry.”, I heard Ladra say, “I'll see to it, that she doesn't use the cruise missiles...”

When Dragan asked her that, Koikaze was already kneeling and tending to Atlas and Alexander. "Actually, it will take a few hours for the two to recover," explained Koikaze to Rhiannon, "There are chances the two might wake up in a few minutes, but if they exceeds that timespan unconsciously then I'll have to bring them to the foxholes Atlas and I made. Constantine?"

Constantine turns to Koikaze and said, "Sure. I'll make sure to help bring one of the two to the foxholes-- Wait, what do you mean, foxholes, Koikaze?" Koikaze replied, "We had to dig ourselves a foxhole for us to sleep in after being unable to find the one who has the keys to the cabins." Constantine looked at her for a few seconds before shrugging. "Very well, but only if we put the two on their seats so they can wake up and eat."

"Agreed, Constantine," replied Koikaze before the Nova Roman warship continues talking to NSCS Atlas.

SDFS Dragan.
Rhiannon raised an eyebrow at the bit of the two of them being unconscious for a few minutes, when she heard about foxholes, because asking someone if they had seen the boss lady of this bloody place was just too fucking hard for the kiddoes, she raised the other one even higher and rose.
“If I were you, lass, I'd have them checked for brain damage. Minutes of unconsciousness can already mean brain injuries. Double that if that happens more or less frequently, the cause is reasonably irrelevant.”, she stated, then raised a hand, “You might, at this point in your career, be under the illusion of grandeur, that you lot are shipgirls, or however you call our kind in your tongue, and thus you are immune to anything and everything, but believe me... no. You still need to watch out.”
She shrugged.
“And that being said, look for Caja. She can hook you up with a bungalow so you don't have to tow their sorry arses...” At that, Rhiannon kicked the chair Atlas was sitting in lightly with the outside of her foot. “...to a hole in the sand, which will be most likely awash at high tide, because doing so with someone unconscious is so healthy.”
She thought for a moment.
“Then again, for you quartet of failures and scrap metal, that almost seems like par for the course.”, she stated, gave the Fishy Wind and Alex the Middle Schooler one last look of disdain, and came back to me. “Dragan, I might come back later... with or without your brother.”
“Nocht, Maor, Fia or Oll?”, I asked with a grin as I handed her back her food.
She grinned. “Yes.”
I chuckled as she went off, then turned to serve the next customer and to tend to my grill.
“And we once again saw, that Old Lady Rhi didn't get her nickname for being one to molly-coddle everyone...”, said next customer stated, Bádmíolta being a whaler turned pirate ship and not ashamed of either grinning.
“Heard that, you piece of driftwood!”, the former flagship of the SDF-Navy for 68 years called over her shoulder.
“And I'm older then you, you whippersnapper!”, Bádmíolta called back with a smile, causing a wave of laughter in the line. Bádmíolta was two centuries old, after all.

Rogavis smiled a bit when Seraphiel winked at him. Reminded him of Emperor's Light whenever he rarely complimented Rogavis, for some reason. He looked up from the ground. He was a bit sad and relieved that Caja wasn't an enormous boat. On one hand, it would've been cool if she was. On the other hand, it would be kinda weird to know he was standing on a sentient ship. The biggest ship he'd been on was Lunar Tide, a 78,000-ton aircraft carrier. If Caja was a boat, she'd make any other aircraft carrier or battleship look like a paper ship. Such a feat of construction was practically impossible, it occurred to Rogavis. Not to mention impractical.

"Kanmusu...I guess that's the technical name for Ship-Warriors, as the Empire calls them. And I can confirm that Installation Types are rare in my homeland. I haven't even heard of one from the Imperial Flagship, Emperor's Light. And he's been just about everywhere!" Rogavis enthusiastically stated. He was trying to suppress his hope of being able to walk regularly once more, if only for a while, but was failing. The thought of being fully operational was a joyous one to Rogavis. Now he only had to hope the Empire found the funds to permanently restore him and send him out as an active warship...

RKN Seraphiel.
“I wouldn't know of many either.”, I admitted, then began to count off in my head, “Really, a hand full at most. Most of them rather independent, then bound to any nation. Caja is a bit of an exception as she sits between the chairs – she is...”
My smartphone dinged.
“Hang on a moment, please.”, I said and looked, then grinned and showed it to Rogavis: “Caja said, that she's on her way. And she got herself another someone, who could help you, if she is at her wit's end. Jause, an old Teressian destroyer tender.”
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“She should be here in a minute.”, I added, then gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “It'll be alright.”

An gawked at the sand structures being built. They were coming along quite nicely, and at good pace too. The whole scene gnawed at her, the supposed purpose of her existence as hammered home by the team back home was quickly breaking apart. The implication that beings created for the sole intent of destroying any massive warship in their wake would spend their time making dainty sand castles was too jarring for her to accept. She looked down for a moment, thinking to herself. It was quickly over when Marcharnnau gave her another option.

Drinks. That was all she had to say.

An assumed she meant something more appropriate for the beach setting - perhaps some lemonade or juice, but given her current situation, she wouldn't pass up the possibility of drinking without Aubise's constant supervision and berating. The other two things she mentioned, ice cream and putting up with men, she could give or take. Marcharnnau's winking at the last part piqued her curiosity, though. An was around men all the time in Aaaaaa, and they were all the same; Angry, belittling reprobates who had total control of her life. Perhaps these "shiplads" were different? She wasn't convinced.

Regardless, she knew her choice immediately. "Well.. if it's alright with you, I could go for a drink." Perhaps that was a little too casual? "B-because, you know, it's pretty hot right now, so..."

Marcharnnau.
I smiled as An decided for the drinks, tried to save, where there was nothing in the need of being saved.
“An...” I offered her a hand to take as I turned towards the bar and everyone there. Karkadann just gave a boisterous, huge laugh, one of those, which the old Kyrenaian Carrier was famous for. I had something else to tell An, though. “...you're among your kind. Relax. The list of people, who would begrudge you a drink because you want one is quite short. And, among the two of us...” I leaned over as if to tell her a secret. “...with me by your side, the list is even shorter.”
A wink later and I steered us towards Badi, or, with full name, Badinerie auf den Wellen, the shipgirl of the personal yacht of a Naya Heeser, the heiress to a beer brewery from a country called Ridderli. Badi had dark blonde hair and pink eyes, however she lacked the pointy ears so characteristic for many shipgirls I knew (then again, many here didn't have those) and she was about An's size. Her two cute pigtails, combined with her Tracht, a traditional costume of Teressien, were maybe one of the reasons why she was constantly flustered.
She fought down a blush as another customer, RKN Yara, a tall, broad-shouldered and muscular red-haired Kyrenaian Drone Carrier, left her with a grin on his lips and a few beer mugs his massive hands.
I smiled at An, trying to overplay, that the sight of the shipman in nothing but swimming trunks made my knees a bit weak.
“Beer or something stronger?”, I asked, “Don't worry, it's on Caja.”

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Oooh, local favorites sound right up my alley." Mahine held a hand out if and when a beverage was to be offered to her. "Give me whatcha got."

Majestic looked over the keys and held them tightly in her hands as she spoke instead with Caja. "I'm fine, but miss chaffhead here might appreciate a chance to shower and freshen up. If you could get us a lift and allow us a few moments, we'd love to attend."

"Oi, who the hell are you calling chaffhead! If it weren't for me you'd be a decorative piece on a reef." Angrily poking the transport ship's cheek, Mahine earned a bemused giggle from her companion.

"Ah, unless there's anything else you might wish to settle before we clean up?" Majestic hadn't even bothered to ask about replenishment costs and other such details- now was that chance to clear them up.

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Waaaaaaaah, that hit the spot~!"

Emerging from the pair's bungalow after a extensive shower, Mahine had almost forgotten how good it felt to take an actual proper wash instead of the rushed process of a combat shower she'd been used to the past few weeks. Majestic had opted to simply refresh her clothes and wash her face, not daring to attempt a shower knowing her battle-worn compatriot definitely needed the hygiene and the energy boost the cleaning would provide her.

The results were clear, with only a few pesky remnants of metal shards still littering in her hair- a few that might catch a glint should they catch the sun at the right angle- but the soot, grog, and smell of combat was gone from the both of them. Mahine didn't have much of a change of clothes beyond her uniform, and so settled for short shorts and a tanktop that left her midriff exposed. Not entirely proper outfit, but she wasn't known for being a proper lady type- that was Majestic's shtick. Majestic hadn't gone through anywhere near the ringer the air warfare destroyer had, and so her garments remained relatively unmolested.

Presumably, the truck that had whisked them there would also be waiting to take them to the party, and that truck would pass by a solitary Champlainois girl listening to the radio alongside the shore. A familiar tune caught the ears of the suntanned destroyer, who gave a quick warning to her comrade before vaulting over the side of the moving vehicle.

"I'll catch up with you later! Save a drink for me!"

Her feet dug into the sand for only a moment before it kicked up behind her, granules showering the path behind her as she made her way over to the girl. She wasn't familiar with the figure, but the song-

"Oooi, that's Lewska! I love that guy, they play him back in the fleet bar in Port Sistine all the time." A friendly smile rested on the girl's face, as she then took notice of the large sand-creation before her. She took care in taking a step backwards and to her right, both to create distance from the sculpture and to put herself in the sightlines of the girl.

"Diggin' the creation you got going on here. Is this home? You must remember it fondly, looking this well-made."

FFS Hammacker.
Of course, I drove them to the Settlement, waited outside of their little bungalow. While Mahine showered, Caja had pulled Majestic to the side and made it clear to her, in no uncertain terms, that everything was for free, including replenishment. Granted, Caja could not provide Mahine and Majestic with ammunition (though they could have something delivered, if wished), but fuel was no problem and neither were repairs (to some extend at least).
That was also around the time, when Caja got a message on her smartphone, excusing herself for a moment. We drove off, Caja sitting with me in the cab, the replenishment ships, Mahine and Majestic on the open bed, a few minutes later.
We drove for a few minutes as we, a bit away from the party itself, saw a beautiful sand creation and I do not know, what Mahine thought, but she jumped off and joined its presumed creator, a lone young woman.
I sighed. “Caja, can you...?”
The Installation Type in a Maid Bikini opened the little window separating us from the bed with a small smile. “Hey, everyone, our driver would like to make you aware, that in the future, please do not jump ship, it's dangerous. Knock on the cab and it will be taken as a request to stop. And speaking of which, we are nearly there!”
And that was true: The beach with the party, first and foremost the grill tended to by Dragan and the bar occupied by a good bit with the Carrier Meetup, were in full view. The construction sites of the sand castles by the other shipgirls (especially the younger ones) were also in view. On a small promenade overlooking the beach, deck chairs and sitting groups in the shade of palm trees invited to sit and relax, others in the sun were used for tanning. The water, of course, was also occupied.
I saw, in the distance, Lodan Lir and Ladra making their way into the wet, the former... didn't she wear a bikini earlier, not a one-piece school swimsuit? Anyway, she looked as if on the war path.
I stopped the truck near one of the sitting groups, where we were eagerly awaited already by Maor.
The Helicopter Carrier, a silver-haired and blue-eyed shipboy (or rather, shipman), helped the ladies off, gentlemanly, before Adhbaile came down last.
His group's replenishment ship decided to do it a bit unladylike and jumped from the bed into his arms, making him brace and hugging him, before planting a big kiss onto his grinning cheek.
Caja excused herself, I turned off the engine and joined Majestic's side.
Despite the ringer the two had been through, apparently, she still looked classy and quite good, if I were to be honest. Maybe it was that, which motivated me (a fellow shipgirl) to offer her an arm to link and to ask her with a grin: “Wanna grab a drink?”

[Legatia]

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

When Depardieu spoke, a spark lit in Mahine's eyes as some rarely-used cogs began to spin in the back of her head. This girl spoke French! Mahine as a city was famous for its French quarter, which had a rather vibrant colonial history on the island. As such, her flesh rendition of the steel warship named for her carried that blood- and that tongue- with her. French was nowhere near as ubiquitous as English in the Territories as English, but there were a non-insignificant portion of the population that did speak it.

"Aaah! Une francophone!" Mahine clapped her hands in excitement, leaning forward.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle! Je m'appelle Mahine. Je suis de Meridon~!" It was like energy had been shot right back into her, and 12 hours of general quarters had never occurred to the girl. "Je suis un contre-torpilleur de guerre aérienne, ici pour repos et réaménagement après quelques action de combat."

Mahine offered her hand to the girl, a broad and friendly smile plastered on her lips.

"Et vous, Depardieu? D'où viens-tu? Je sais que vous n'est pas une escorte du vos regards. Vous êtes une, ah, croiseur, oui?" Mahine took a gander at the girl's size to guess her class.


--

All the meanwhile, Majestic waved her hand at the Installation type girl with a slightly exasperated smile of her own. "Trying to keep her on a leash has never worked, she's an impulsive girl. Plenty of stories to go with that one, her escapades into Sistine proper are something legendary." Majestic might recall these stories later at the party, but held them for now.

When the pair had their conversation earlier, Majestic had been hoping for ammunition, but wouldn't press the issue- she had half expected this anyways, it wasn't likely they were even carrying compatible munitions. Fuel was good enough, but they might be stuck here a little longer, at least until their comrades had a group they could tag along with. She'd need to pass that information along, and made a mental note to radio that up to fleet later tonight.

The truck happened to stop a short bit later, not even very far from where Majestic's escort was engaged in conversation. There was a guy who was helping the girls onboard dismount, and Majestic respectfully accepted the help.

Majestic was giving the party's scene a lookover when she felt a presence by her arm. At first she thought it was Mahine, but was surprised to see the white-haired driver from earlier take her arm instead. Majestic confirmed the armhold with a gentle tug of her own back against her, casting her a look from the side.

"My, are you treating? I'd be thrilled."

[Champlaine]

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

When Depardieu spoke, a spark lit in Mahine's eyes as some rarely-used cogs began to spin in the back of her head. This girl spoke French! Mahine as a city was famous for its French quarter, which had a rather vibrant colonial history on the island. As such, her flesh rendition of the steel warship named for her carried that blood- and that tongue- with her. French was nowhere near as ubiquitous as English in the Territories as English, but there were a non-insignificant portion of the population that did speak it.

"Aaah! Une francophone!" Mahine clapped her hands in excitement, leaning forward.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle! Je m'appelle Mahine. Je suis de Meridon~!" It was like energy had been shot right back into her, and 12 hours of general quarters had never occurred to the girl. "Je suis un contre-torpilleur de guerre aérienne, ici pour repos et réaménagement après quelques action de combat."

Mahine offered her hand to the girl, a broad and friendly smile plastered on her lips.

"Et vous, Depardieu? D'où viens-tu? Je sais que vous n'est pas une escorte du vos regards. Vous êtes une, ah, croiseur, oui?" Mahine took a gander at the girl's size to guess her class.

An excitable one. Depardieu had not seen many of those beyond certain frigates and cruisers. On the other hand, Depardieu stood before the possible Francophile, pondering the probability of any cordial history with the French culture.

Hmm, an anti-air destroyer.

«Mmm, porte-helicoptere.» The fair skinned woman shook her hand with a gentle grip. «Mais bonne deduction, et…uh…je ne suis pas francais. Mon pays, Champlaine, parle francais. Nous sommes une grande population francophone, et je crois que nous avons plus de 309 millions de personnes.»

Once she relinquished her grip, Depardieu cleared her throat, her grey-black-red drapeau patch shown on her right sleeve before she said. «Cependant, 1/4 de la population parle espagnol ou une langue amerindienne. Je suppose que votre pays est egalement multilingue?»

Multilingual was not exactly what Depardieu had in mind, but French is the national language of Champlaine with other languages mixed in between, especially around the Mexico-Champlaine border. Her interest was piqued by the destroyer and her country of origin, particularly her English. Was this a former British colony or territory? Non, a country influenced or assisted by the British? Many questions hovered within the helicopter carrier, sans jeu de mots, merci beaucoup.

[Legatia]

MRS Mahine (D43)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Porte-helicoptere! J'étais proche, oui? Un peu."

Retracting her hand after a satisfactory handshake, she was able to identify the girl as a Champlainois... quite a pretty name for a country. Maybe she'd get to visit one day.

"Wow! 309 millions! Très grand!" Mahine, of course, caught wind of the flag patch on her uniform coat. She was sure some part of her uniform was supposed to have the flag of her nation, but she wasn't wearing it right now, let alone regard it very often.

"Oui, Meridon est multilingue. Notre langue nationale est l'anglais. Tout le monde peut parlent dans cette langue, mais il y a beacoup d'autres langues. Francais, espagnol, tangarenne- oh, cette langue est similaire au polynésien. Comme pour moi, ma ville homonyme a un quartier français notable, donc je sais parler en francais. Mon nom est d'origine tangarenne, cependant."

Mahine carried the conversation along with a warm look in her eyes, anticipating the girl's curiosity.

"La Meridon a été colonisée par de nombreux pays différents. Nous avons un culture dynamique à cause de ces nombreux influences sur nous. C'est bonne chance que nous rencontrons ici!"

[AHSCA]

SDFS Cailín.
“Hm...”, I made, ...what sort of shipgirl was I or wanted to be?
It'd be simple enough to tell her one of the many stories I had, for instance the time we had made a port call in Zieselhaven, being welcomed by Prince Alrich and his girlfriend and the Prince greeted us in Selkie, but instead of 'Good Morning', he greeted us with 'Good Mule', both words being pretty similar in Selkie.
But how to phrase, what sort of shipgirl I wanted to be?
I haven't told Uta everything about my equipment, and I'd have to sink her, if I would tell her the really fun parts, but that didn't bring me closer to an answer to my question.
And then, I found out, found my answer.
I looked at Uta with a wide grin.
“I want to be the kind of shipgirl Captain Máthrachas pets the head of often!”, I said almost triumphantly.

SDFS F-4 Roc.
I chuckled.
“No need to apologize, Arashi.”, I told her with a smile, “An honest word is worth more then a thousand hidden phrases.” I scooped up more ice. “I'd love to introduce you and your mother to Rhi and I am sure, that she'd love to make your acquaintance as well.”
Besides, if I were acting properly for a shipboy of my caliber, I'd be planning on how to torpedo Arashi and she was far too sweet of a young woman for that.
“Maybe even to both, if we can get the chance.” I considered the spoon. “She might be young, but Young Miss Rhi is an interesting acquaintance as well.”

Uta

One could hear the gears and steam clicking away with Uta when Cailin explained one simple idea, to be praised and get head pats. "YES YES YES a million times yes! To be praised by the ships before us is the best! I love when sis or mother praises me or the ships of old. And I get a simple pat and a 'atta girl' fdown the line. Like when I completed my first sea trials or set on my maiden voyage. Yes, Cailin, you and I are truly kindred spirits."

Otome

(ooc: That was totally my bad! I put Arashi when I meant Otome for that little part but otherwise it's fine I'll just work around it)

"You know, I feel the same way. To be honest and forthright. But yes, please do so, mother and I, and of course my little sister too I bet we'd learn a lot from a wise gal like her of her old lineage and caliber. We youngers can learn from her, even mother who's seasoned on the high seas knows she doesn't know everything."

[The Grand Western Empire]

RKN Seraphiel.
“I wouldn't know of many either.”, I admitted, then began to count off in my head, “Really, a hand full at most. Most of them rather independent, then bound to any nation. Caja is a bit of an exception as she sits between the chairs – she is...”
My smartphone dinged.
“Hang on a moment, please.”, I said and looked, then grinned and showed it to Rogavis: “Caja said, that she's on her way. And she got herself another someone, who could help you, if she is at her wit's end. Jause, an old Teressian destroyer tender.”
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“She should be here in a minute.”, I added, then gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “It'll be alright.”

"Huh," learning that Installation-Types worked solo was a bit of a shock. Rogavis would've thought that one of his fleet mates would've met one if that was the case. Maybe an Imperial ship had met an Installation-Type, but Rogavis didn't hear about it. He spent too much time in port...

That made the longing for being commissioned and put out to sea, so he could face the enemies of the Empire worse. Rogavis felt a vague sense of isolation as he scanned the texts that Seraphiel showed him. The sudden contact and squeeze made him stiffen a little. "Huh. Only a minute? I guess Caja moves fast. I hope I didn't disturb her, though." He paused and took a small sip from his water bottle. "She'll do something in a few minutes that Imperial repair crews didn't get around to for a year." Rogavis shook his head.

[Novaya Equestria]

SDFS Dragan.
Rhiannon raised an eyebrow at the bit of the two of them being unconscious for a few minutes, when she heard about foxholes, because asking someone if they had seen the boss lady of this bloody place was just too fucking hard for the kiddoes, she raised the other one even higher and rose.
“If I were you, lass, I'd have them checked for brain damage. Minutes of unconsciousness can already mean brain injuries. Double that if that happens more or less frequently, the cause is reasonably irrelevant.”, she stated, then raised a hand, “You might, at this point in your career, be under the illusion of grandeur, that you lot are shipgirls, or however you call our kind in your tongue, and thus you are immune to anything and everything, but believe me... no. You still need to watch out.”
She shrugged.
“And that being said, look for Caja. She can hook you up with a bungalow so you don't have to tow their sorry arses...” At that, Rhiannon kicked the chair Atlas was sitting in lightly with the outside of her foot. “...to a hole in the sand, which will be most likely awash at high tide, because doing so with someone unconscious is so healthy.”
She thought for a moment.
“Then again, for you quartet of failures and scrap metal, that almost seems like par for the course.”, she stated, gave the Fishy Wind and Alex the Middle Schooler one last look of disdain, and came back to me. “Dragan, I might come back later... with or without your brother.”
“Nocht, Maor, Fia or Oll?”, I asked with a grin as I handed her back her food.
She grinned. “Yes.”
I chuckled as she went off, then turned to serve the next customer and to tend to my grill.
“And we once again saw, that Old Lady Rhi didn't get her nickname for being one to molly-coddle everyone...”, said next customer stated, Bádmíolta being a whaler turned pirate ship and not ashamed of either grinning.
“Heard that, you piece of driftwood!”, the former flagship of the SDF-Navy for 68 years called over her shoulder.
“And I'm older then you, you whippersnapper!”, Bádmíolta called back with a smile, causing a wave of laughter in the line. Bádmíolta was two centuries old, after all.

"Constantine, Koikaze," NSCS Atlas' voice projects from the tablet, "I want you two and NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander to pull out of the island. Bring back ANYTHING you four have brought here. If they are knocked out, either wait for them to wake up or drag them back." Constantine asked, "And what about our foods? We haven't eaten them." NSCS Atlas responded, "Eat them first, then take your belongings and pull out. I can wait for you four, but chances are I will deploy a squadron to immediately escort you four out of there, even if they are still unconscious."

Constantine nods, then turns to Dragan and asked, "When will our foods be ready?" Constantine herself sounded very calm and formal; in comparison, NSCS Atlas sounded way strict and stern. Meanwhile, Koikaze placed the unconscious Atlas and Alexander back to their seats. "And Constantine, I want a few words with the warship who called you four a 'quartet of failures and scrap metals' immediately."

Constantine stood up and approached Rhiannon, saying, "Excuse me, but my superior wished to have a word with you." She holds up the tablet that still shows NSCS Atlas - now sporting a stern and deathly serious expression - to Rhiannon. "You do not refer to those four as a quartet of failures and scrap metals." NSCS Atlas said to Rhiannon sternly. "Just because they act casually like that doesn't really mean they really do act like that even during duties. You have yet to see them in action, especially when it comes to being involved in negotiating with the pirates who were causing trouble in the Western Indian Ocean, breaking up fights nonviolently or even contribute to the international community. Those four may act like that, but that's because they are all military reservists; can you really blame them for being military reservists?"

He immediately cuts Rhiannon off from replying by adding, "And don't give me the sort of bull-crap about anything involving status or any other, whether it's from you or anyone else. You calling these four warships a "quartet of failures and scrap metals" is unnecessarily called for, and dominantly more insulting and disparaging, sometimes dehumanizing. I have expected any ships to show no unacceptable behaviors and at least show a good personality and genuine respect - that means no making jokes that sounded like insults toward anyone, nor teasing anyone. That also includes no making the environment toxic, hostile and unsafe; such criteria I have will definitely result in me pulling back the four Alliance warships present on your end. Back to you, Constantine."

Constantine went back to her seat to continue discussing with the dreadnought in the tablet. NSCS Atlas really didn't give Rhiannon any room to respond. "And Constantine, if any other ships want to present their objections or anything else, tell them I will not tolerate any of their BS." Constantine nods.

[Champlaine]

MRS Mahine (D43)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Porte-helicoptere! J'étais proche, oui? Un peu."

Retracting her hand after a satisfactory handshake, she was able to identify the girl as a Champlainois... quite a pretty name for a country. Maybe she'd get to visit one day.

"Wow! 309 millions! Très grand!" Mahine, of course, caught wind of the flag patch on her uniform coat. She was sure some part of her uniform was supposed to have the flag of her nation, but she wasn't wearing it right now, let alone regard it very often.

"Oui, Meridon est multilingue. Notre langue nationale est l'anglais. Tout le monde peut parlent dans cette langue, mais il y a beacoup d'autres langues. Francais, espagnol, tangarenne- oh, cette langue est similaire au polynésien. Comme pour moi, ma ville homonyme a un quartier français notable, donc je sais parler en francais. Mon nom est d'origine tangarenne, cependant."

Mahine carried the conversation along with a warm look in her eyes, anticipating the girl's curiosity.

"La Meridon a été colonisée par de nombreux pays différents. Nous avons un culture dynamique à cause de ces nombreux influences sur nous. C'est bonne chance que nous rencontrons ici!"

«Mhm» Depardieu acknowledged her with a faint smile. «Je suis surpris pour dire le moins, en fait. Je pensais que je ne verrais jamais un francophone en dehors de mon pays. Patrouiller les Ameriques donne envie d’un hiver nucleaire.»

Oui, she was partially serious with that last sentence. Up and down the North and South American coastlines offered nothing but boredom beyond the storms or passer-by of other ships. How could it get any worse, other than occasional natural disasters?

«Il y a des endroits dont je me souviens affectueusement. Bahia Bodega me vient a l’esprit, tant et si bien, que j’ai recree ses rives.» The Champlaine helicopter carrier said with an increasingly apparent albeit soft smile. «Dites-moi, avez-vous deja visite San Francisco? Ils ont de magnifiques plages, meme les villes voisines ont de beaux rivages.»

She dared not to mention Operation Fantome Gloussant. Non, c’est trop tot.

«Tres brumeux, cependant.» Depardieu shivered slightly, reminding her about a certain verse in the Champlaine anthem. «Le joyau de la couronne du Mexique, neanmoins. Fufufu~»

[Legatia]

MRS Mahine (D43)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Un hiver nucleaire? C'est un sentiment assez fort, non?" Mahine laughed a little nervously, the reference going over the girl's head- was America really that bad, she wondered? Even her patrols along the archipelago back home were enjoyable. Meridon was a pretty country from the sea, but America sounded like something else.

"San Francisco? Ehh.. non, mes déploiements avant celui-ci ont été limités au la voisinage du la Meridon.Vous voyez, normalement, je suis attache au le Groupe de Tâches du Porte-Avions 3." Mahine held three fingers up, for a rather clear-cut reason. "Le drapeau de la flotte, Kohaku.. ah, pardon, le vaisseau amiral- elle est nouvelle.Nous avons passé beaucoup de temps sur... ah, comment dit-on.. 'Workups'?"

A word she drew a blank on. Mahine was more surprised she was remembering enough to hold a decent conversation. Ah, well, here's hoping the girl spoke a little English. She was quickly noticing that her throat was dry, however, a subject she wished to remedy.

"Cette conversation est tres agréable, oui, mais, j'espère tu comprendras si une fille a besoin d'alcool apres quelques combats, oui? Envie d'un verre vous-même ? Je suis un très bonne fabricante de boissons, vous savez~"

As she did so, however, she caught eyes on some sort of commotion going on, that looked rather confrontational- some girl holding a tablet over that was barking something to one of the host ships. Unpleasant-looking in the entirety, she realized. She didn't want the party ruined already, she just fucking got here!

"Iyaaaaah... fuck's going on over there? Someone getting reamed this early?"

She caught a glance of her new-found friend from the side.

"Une mer orageuse à venir, on dirait. Viens-tu?"

[Seleucid Pergamon]

SDFS Rhiannon (the younger one).
“Missiles.”, I replied with a small grin, “I am a Rhiannon-II-class Frigate, I have 48 full-length VLS-Tubes, I can carry everything from Type 40s to Miodógs, Sleás and Claíomhs... when the guys over at Gabha finally get these blasted things working, that is.” I shook my head with a small bit of irritation crossing my face. “Anyway, I am a frigate, I have my gun, my CIWS, my decoys, my ASW-torpedoes, the balconies, more electronics then my light cruiser name sister and her siblings combined...”
I shrugged.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess.”, I smiled at Mazaca and Chaldea, then paused: “With one exception, maybe. My flag is... very special, though it is mostly a spiritual thing.”

The hike to the Temple of Lodan Lir and Aranrot was, if one used the normal hiking trail (unlike the kiddos), quite a nice walk and quite well paved. It did not take long until Persephone would be able to arrive there, maybe long enough for her to finish reciting the Monologues, maybe not.
Up there, one had a nice view of the beach, the Settlement, the Pontoon Harbour and all the vessels docked there, a bit of the surrounding land, and as it was freshly refurbished, it was a pretty sight.
The temple was an interesting structure. The ambulatory, a square colonnade, looked light and aerated, its roof tiles shining red, while the pillars were of white stone, though not marble. It served mostly as a border between the outside world and the spiritual world of the sacred grove on the inside, which was open to the air.
Mosaics under the roof of the ambulatory showed Lodan Lir and Aranrot, the two deities worshipped here, in their most popular myths, but the sacred grove inside the temple might be more interesting, mainly as someone was there, sitting on one of the benches surrounding the tree at the centre of the sacred grove.
She was a blonde, her short hair tamed by slim dark blue, almost black, ribbons, which complimented her bikini of a similar colour. A straw hat sat in her lap, her pointy ears were clearly visible – undoubtedly, she was a Kanmusu from the region. But at the same time, her green eyes looked tired, old.

PNP Chaldea and PNP Mazaca

Chaldea smiled at the first kind of weaponry Rhi mentioned. Her dual blades offered her the means of a deadly and elegant dance, but missiles added more to the performance. The fiery light they emit and the streaks they leave behind were like an painting, and Chaldea would make efficient use of them, more particularly as means of distraction. At times, however, Chaldea gazed in delight as they flew in the air. Such was the case in the Muscat Emergency, prompting Mazaca had to nudge her out of her trance to continue with the mission.

"Nothing beats the appeal of missiles. When they fly, they form a tapestry, and are like little companions that actually do their job perfectly," Chaldea replied before popping her bubble, "I love using them alongside the two swords I have, aside from my guns, CIWS, decoys, and torpedoes. I also have this False Mati Electronics Warfare System, which is cool, but I don't bother much with the technical details."

"It's a new product from Thureos Defense Industries, and to be honest, it's actually a good system," Mazaca interjected, "I'm tempted to explain it to you, but I'd hate to bore poor Chaldea out," he rolled his eyes to Chaldea.

"You really are sweet, Mazaca."

As Mazaca caught his breath, a commotion broke out at a table not too far from where they were sitting. Indeed, this caught the attention of Chaldea and Rh, and the exchange of words and emotions convinced them to keep observing, especially with the voice coming out of the tablet that one of them was holding.

"What the hell is going on," Mazaca said with an incredulous tone.

"A moment to record on a smartphone for the sadistic scrollers to revel on," Chaldea leaned back on her chair.

"Shouldn't we break up the argument?"

"Want to do the honors, Rhi?"

PNP Persephone

"I koryfí tis Aráchnis eínai to fylákio pou mas geitonévei: apó ekeí katévike sti stégi mas, to fos tis Ídis stin alithiní katagogí, éftase se mia nýchta sti stégi ton Atreidón," the battleship continued to enunciate with a flow of a stream as she reached the temple. Upon approaching it, she beheld the sight, and in her imagination, she thought herself the same flame mentioned in her recitation and chuckled to herself.

The temple's structure bore resemblance to those constructed by the ancient Hellenes. The pillars of white stone, the red roof tiles and the colonnade gave off this reminiscence, indeed. Exploring further, Persephone let out a soft gasp as she observed the interior. The battleship then basked herself in the sight, staring upwards at the ceiling mosaic depicting two local deities and scanning the trees and plants that comprised the interior grove. For a while, it seemed as if she traveled back in time to when the Diatemeion stood in Seleucia. That was, until she caught sight of another shipgirl sitting on a bench with a straw hat resting on her lap.

"Too modern an outfit for a priestess wouldn't you say," Persephone jested with a warm smile.

[Aaaaaa]

Marcharnnau.
I smiled as An decided for the drinks, tried to save, where there was nothing in the need of being saved.
“An...” I offered her a hand to take as I turned towards the bar and everyone there. Karkadann just gave a boisterous, huge laugh, one of those, which the old Kyrenaian Carrier was famous for. I had something else to tell An, though. “...you're among your kind. Relax. The list of people, who would begrudge you a drink because you want one is quite short. And, among the two of us...” I leaned over as if to tell her a secret. “...with me by your side, the list is even shorter.”
A wink later and I steered us towards Badi, or, with full name, Badinerie auf den Wellen, the shipgirl of the personal yacht of a Naya Heeser, the heiress to a beer brewery from a country called Ridderli. Badi had dark blonde hair and pink eyes, however she lacked the pointy ears so characteristic for many shipgirls I knew (then again, many here didn't have those) and she was about An's size. Her two cute pigtails, combined with her Tracht, a traditional costume of Teressien, were maybe one of the reasons why she was constantly flustered.
She fought down a blush as another customer, RKN Yara, a tall, broad-shouldered and muscular red-haired Kyrenaian Drone Carrier, left her with a grin on his lips and a few beer mugs his massive hands.
I smiled at An, trying to overplay, that the sight of the shipman in nothing but swimming trunks made my knees a bit weak.
“Beer or something stronger?”, I asked, “Don't worry, it's on Caja.”

Oi satanas why did I say that, they're gonna think I'm a drunk, okay I am, but they don't need to know that, and now I've ruined Aaaaaa's reputation and they're gonna do something and everyone hates me and-

An's internal thoughts were suppressed briefly when she glanced back at Marcharnnau, who was sporting a soft smile towards the younger shipgirl.

Oh no I know that smile, the kind of smile that says "I can't believe how much of a degenerate alcoholic you are but I'm trying my best to remain polite even though I literally cannot stand you right now" it's the exact same smile the scientists were putting on when they presented me to President Kneriod-

She barely noticed Marcharnnau presenting her hand to take until a nearby vessels hearty laugh brought her back to reality. Before she pinpoint what exact flaw of hers made the tanned aircraft carrier chuckle (not that she knew she was an aircraft carrier, since she had absolutely no idea how to tell what class of watercraft other shippeople belonged to), her purple-haired companion leaned in, giving her a very detailed view of something she didn't like to mention, and spoke.

An's initial frown was as blatant as when she was being chastised by whoever was in her general vicinity back in Aaaaaa, but as Marcharnnau explained that her presence amongst fellow shipgirls (and shipboys, unfortunately) guaranteed her fears were unwarranted, the survey vessel gradually eased up. With Marcharnnau's final words spoken, her tense stature became more slouched, exhausted from all the worrying she's done recently. A quiet "O-okay…" was all she said in response.

Shortly after, she was led towards another cluster of vessels, one in particular roughly the same height as her. She did her best to ignore Marcharnnau's very obvious swooning over one of the shipboys she tried advertising to her. In her defence, he WAS very good looking, and far better built than any Aaaaaan slob she seen back home (really, it wasn't even remotely a competition), but she had enough experience in dealing with the creeps back home to assume these guys weren't diverging from the stereotype.

…So why was she blushing even more than Marcharnnau? Perhaps it was the prospect of alcohol within reach. And alas, that's what her friends next question was regarding.

"Sure, a beer is fine…" she answered sheepishly. A worried glance around her showed her confidence wasn't quite at peak. "B-but just to be clear… I'm not going to get in any trouble drinking this, right? I mean, this is my first time here, a-and I don't know if it's appropriate, 'cause, well… I don't want anyone to think I'm just here for the booze, y'know, and… um… y'know…"

[The Selkie]

MRS Mahine (D43), MRAS Majestic (A246)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

[...]
All the meanwhile, Majestic waved her hand at the Installation type girl with a slightly exasperated smile of her own. "Trying to keep her on a leash has never worked, she's an impulsive girl. Plenty of stories to go with that one, her escapades into Sistine proper are something legendary." Majestic might recall these stories later at the party, but held them for now.

When the pair had their conversation earlier, Majestic had been hoping for ammunition, but wouldn't press the issue- she had half expected this anyways, it wasn't likely they were even carrying compatible munitions. Fuel was good enough, but they might be stuck here a little longer, at least until their comrades had a group they could tag along with. She'd need to pass that information along, and made a mental note to radio that up to fleet later tonight.

The truck happened to stop a short bit later, not even very far from where Majestic's escort was engaged in conversation. There was a guy who was helping the girls onboard dismount, and Majestic respectfully accepted the help.

Majestic was giving the party's scene a lookover when she felt a presence by her arm. At first she thought it was Mahine, but was surprised to see the white-haired driver from earlier take her arm instead. Majestic confirmed the armhold with a gentle tug of her own back against her, casting her a look from the side.

"My, are you treating? I'd be thrilled."

FFS Hammacker.
“Technically, Caja – Naval Yard Cartreffa Island, that is – is treating both of us, but...” I smiled at Majestic, shrugged. “...a drink alone is just sad, especially for an old Large Cruiser such as myself.”
Majestic was... well, majestic, or rather ladylike. Like that dependable woman, I felt, the anchor which every Squadron needed. Sometimes, that was the flagship, sometimes it was the supply vessel, sometimes, it was one old ship in the group or the designated mother figure, but generally, every Squadron needed one of those in my experience.
“I'm FFS Hammacker, by the way. From Teressien.”, I introduced myself, then added: “And before you ask, FFS stands for Fürstliches Flottenschiff and no one would know any other meaning!”
I winked at the last part.
Of course, FFS was also for f-word's sake, but... yeah, no but. An unfortunate coincidence.
“Anything in particular you'd like to partake in? The local cane-whiskey is quite good!”, I recommended, cane-whiskey being, essentially, rum – rum made like they made whiskey on the Mainland. “Or we go for Teressian Beer, which is not only good as a drink, but can also be used as a bath. It is quite healthy, actually, or so I hear.”

Uta

One could hear the gears and steam clicking away with Uta when Cailin explained one simple idea, to be praised and get head pats. "YES YES YES a million times yes! To be praised by the ships before us is the best! I love when sis or mother praises me or the ships of old. And I get a simple pat and a 'atta girl' fdown the line. Like when I completed my first sea trials or set on my maiden voyage. Yes, Cailin, you and I are truly kindred spirits."

Otome

(ooc: That was totally my bad! I put Arashi when I meant Otome for that little part but otherwise it's fine I'll just work around it)

"You know, I feel the same way. To be honest and forthright. But yes, please do so, mother and I, and of course my little sister too I bet we'd learn a lot from a wise gal like her of her old lineage and caliber. We youngers can learn from her, even mother who's seasoned on the high seas knows she doesn't know everything."

OOC: No problem, happens to the best (and I could have spotted it, too, didn't, so... I'm not going to blame you ; )).

SDFS Cailín.
I smiled – Uta was certainly spirited and, apparently, loved to be praised.
Then again, who didn't?
“Do you know, what's awesome, too?”, I asked, “Getting praised not only by your siblings or by your peers, but by your Captain – that is Captain Máthrachas to me!” I grinned. “And Captain Máthrachas loves to give headpats! And so does everyone else!” My grin nearly split my face in two halves right now. “And I love to pet Lieutenant Commander Rundanna! That's our ship's cat. A little grey cat and super-awesome, when it comes to hunting for little toy mice!”
Every ship in the SDF-Navy had a cat, and Rundanna was mine – I wondered if Uta had one, too...

SDFS F-4 Roc.
“That is very important.”, I told her with a smile, then pointed my spoon at her before sinking it into the ice, “Knowing, that one doesn't know everything is, at least if you trust Kyrenaian Philosophy, the first step to true wisdom. Of course, I am not a philosopher, not even with my hull long scrapped...”
I took my spoon.
“Lemme tell you, Old Lady Rhi is... a wonderful woman. I do not know your mother, not yet, at least, so I can't compare the two, sorry. Still, there is a reason, why she was our flagship for nearly seven decades, through a humanitarian mission going downwards in a hurry, two wars, an economic crisis... I am only embellishing her and setting you up to be disappointed when you learn, that she only runs on steam, too, aren't I?”, I asked Otome with a grin.

"Huh," learning that Installation-Types worked solo was a bit of a shock. Rogavis would've thought that one of his fleet mates would've met one if that was the case. Maybe an Imperial ship had met an Installation-Type, but Rogavis didn't hear about it. He spent too much time in port...

That made the longing for being commissioned and put out to sea, so he could face the enemies of the Empire worse. Rogavis felt a vague sense of isolation as he scanned the texts that Seraphiel showed him. The sudden contact and squeeze made him stiffen a little. "Huh. Only a minute? I guess Caja moves fast. I hope I didn't disturb her, though." He paused and took a small sip from his water bottle. "She'll do something in a few minutes that Imperial repair crews didn't get around to for a year." Rogavis shook his head.

RKN Seraphiel.
“And I hope, that I will succeed!”, a new voice said from behind us.
Now, when one things of a 'shipgirl of a shore installation', in essence an Installation Type, one might picture a mighty woman, a tall and powerful looking woman – Caja was none of that. She was quite short, shorter then Rogavis, a silver-haired girl with red eyes and she was a bit flat.
That she wore a maid bikini added neither to her size, nor to her mystique, let alone to her looking powerful. She actually looked a bit weird.
She also looked friendly, thanks to her smile and sunny look, despite her paleness.
“Hi, I'm the Cartreffa Island Installation Type – just call me Caja, it's easier!”, she said and bowed her head lightly, then offered her hand, “You must be Rogavis, the destroyer with engine troubles Sera mentioned?” She gave me a glance, I nodded. “Wonderful... now, Mister Rogavis – or just Rogavis? Or a nickname?”
I smiled. My new friend would get the help he needed – however, Caja undoubtedly had some questions. I would remain closeby, if only to provide moral support or to explain, where explanations were needed.
My smile also went to Rogavis, reassuring him that, yes, this was Caja, and yes, she would do her hardest to get him running again.
Literally.

PNP Chaldea and PNP Mazaca

Chaldea smiled at the first kind of weaponry Rhi mentioned. Her dual blades offered her the means of a deadly and elegant dance, but missiles added more to the performance. The fiery light they emit and the streaks they leave behind were like an painting, and Chaldea would make efficient use of them, more particularly as means of distraction. At times, however, Chaldea gazed in delight as they flew in the air. Such was the case in the Muscat Emergency, prompting Mazaca had to nudge her out of her trance to continue with the mission.

"Nothing beats the appeal of missiles. When they fly, they form a tapestry, and are like little companions that actually do their job perfectly," Chaldea replied before popping her bubble, "I love using them alongside the two swords I have, aside from my guns, CIWS, decoys, and torpedoes. I also have this False Mati Electronics Warfare System, which is cool, but I don't bother much with the technical details."

"It's a new product from Thureos Defense Industries, and to be honest, it's actually a good system," Mazaca interjected, "I'm tempted to explain it to you, but I'd hate to bore poor Chaldea out," he rolled his eyes to Chaldea.

"You really are sweet, Mazaca."

As Mazaca caught his breath, a commotion broke out at a table not too far from where they were sitting. Indeed, this caught the attention of Chaldea and Rh, and the exchange of words and emotions convinced them to keep observing, especially with the voice coming out of the tablet that one of them was holding.

"What the hell is going on," Mazaca said with an incredulous tone.

"A moment to record on a smartphone for the sadistic scrollers to revel on," Chaldea leaned back on her chair.

"Shouldn't we break up the argument?"

"Want to do the honors, Rhi?"

PNP Persephone

"I koryfí tis Aráchnis eínai to fylákio pou mas geitonévei: apó ekeí katévike sti stégi mas, to fos tis Ídis stin alithiní katagogí, éftase se mia nýchta sti stégi ton Atreidón," the battleship continued to enunciate with a flow of a stream as she reached the temple. Upon approaching it, she beheld the sight, and in her imagination, she thought herself the same flame mentioned in her recitation and chuckled to herself.

The temple's structure bore resemblance to those constructed by the ancient Hellenes. The pillars of white stone, the red roof tiles and the colonnade gave off this reminiscence, indeed. Exploring further, Persephone let out a soft gasp as she observed the interior. The battleship then basked herself in the sight, staring upwards at the ceiling mosaic depicting two local deities and scanning the trees and plants that comprised the interior grove. For a while, it seemed as if she traveled back in time to when the Diatemeion stood in Seleucia. That was, until she caught sight of another shipgirl sitting on a bench with a straw hat resting on her lap.

"Too modern an outfit for a priestess wouldn't you say," Persephone jested with a warm smile.

SDFS Rhiannon (the younger one).
I looked over to where... yeah, no.
“Relax.”, I told the two, then heard something on an open channel – the entire rant. I was certain, that the two of them got every word as well, as it was her intention. “See the blonde in the green halterneck?”
I indicated to the woman sitting there, to whom the tablet had been carried as she was about to enjoy food and company.
“That's my namesake, older name sister and the Grande Dame of the SDF-Navy, SDFS Rhiannon – or Rhiannon the Elder, Old Lady Rhi or something like that, if you do not value your life.” I chuckled at the last part. “No, seriously, she hates being called old. Apparently always did, according to Eascann – SDFS F-3 Eascann, that is, an old F-1-class Submarine. He's not here today, I think. Anyway...” Motioning back to the 'discussion', half of which was still on audio for us, I returned to that topic. “...no need to interfere. Big Sis Rhi got that.”

By the temple.
The young woman startled, but smiled.
“Maybe I am a Priestess, who wants to go swimming?”, she asked cheekily back, “But you are right, I am not a Priestess. I come here to... well.” The cheekiness was gone as she rose, putting the straw hat back on the head. “It was a pleasure, Miss...?”
There was a low, rustling breeze, warm, but cooling, playing with the hair of the blonde.
She still looked contemplative, but also sad – not sad about being stirred into motion or about being disturbed, but sad at something else... was it the slow passage of time? Maybe.
She was undeniably a warship, who had seen action, her eyes said so, so maybe it was that?
Whatever it was, it weighed heavily on her mind.
But maybe she wanted to talk about it? Persephone had a lot of options with this acquaintance, this chance-meeting – but which would she take?

Oi satanas why did I say that, they're gonna think I'm a drunk, okay I am, but they don't need to know that, and now I've ruined Aaaaaa's reputation and they're gonna do something and everyone hates me and-

An's internal thoughts were suppressed briefly when she glanced back at Marcharnnau, who was sporting a soft smile towards the younger shipgirl.

Oh no I know that smile, the kind of smile that says "I can't believe how much of a degenerate alcoholic you are but I'm trying my best to remain polite even though I literally cannot stand you right now" it's the exact same smile the scientists were putting on when they presented me to President Kneriod-

She barely noticed Marcharnnau presenting her hand to take until a nearby vessels hearty laugh brought her back to reality. Before she pinpoint what exact flaw of hers made the tanned aircraft carrier chuckle (not that she knew she was an aircraft carrier, since she had absolutely no idea how to tell what class of watercraft other shippeople belonged to), her purple-haired companion leaned in, giving her a very detailed view of something she didn't like to mention, and spoke.

An's initial frown was as blatant as when she was being chastised by whoever was in her general vicinity back in Aaaaaa, but as Marcharnnau explained that her presence amongst fellow shipgirls (and shipboys, unfortunately) guaranteed her fears were unwarranted, the survey vessel gradually eased up. With Marcharnnau's final words spoken, her tense stature became more slouched, exhausted from all the worrying she's done recently. A quiet "O-okay…" was all she said in response.

Shortly after, she was led towards another cluster of vessels, one in particular roughly the same height as her. She did her best to ignore Marcharnnau's very obvious swooning over one of the shipboys she tried advertising to her. In her defence, he WAS very good looking, and far better built than any Aaaaaan slob she seen back home (really, it wasn't even remotely a competition), but she had enough experience in dealing with the creeps back home to assume these guys weren't diverging from the stereotype.

…So why was she blushing even more than Marcharnnau? Perhaps it was the prospect of alcohol within reach. And alas, that's what her friends next question was regarding.

"Sure, a beer is fine…" she answered sheepishly. A worried glance around her showed her confidence wasn't quite at peak. "B-but just to be clear… I'm not going to get in any trouble drinking this, right? I mean, this is my first time here, a-and I don't know if it's appropriate, 'cause, well… I don't want anyone to think I'm just here for the booze, y'know, and… um… y'know…"

Marcharnnau.
I smiled.
“When I was about your age, everyone came here for the booze.”, I told her as we approached – the Kyrenaian had left quite an impression, as it seemed, judging by the redness on her cheeks. I dismissed the thought, that it might be because of alcohol within reach. With how many worries she had, I found it rather unlikely. “Granted, that was five centuries ago and Cartreffa Island was a pirate base way back when.”
I chuckled.
“I could tell you stories later!”
By then, we were at the stall.
“Good day.”, Badi brought out, fighting her own blush down, “Two Krönchen?”
“Cold, if possible.”, I agreed with a nod and Badi went to work. A few short moments later, the yacht-shipgirl put a pair of high Humpen, huge stoneware beer mugs, filled with maize beer on the counter. It was, by the ancient measurements, filled with two Teressian Seidel, or 0.7 litres of beer, a lot for a start.“Thank you!”
And it was cold, refreshingly so, as I touched the mugs, handing one to An.
“Caja paid.”, Badi told us before I could ask, how much we owed her, “Have fun and no heavy machinery while under the influence!”
I laughed and promised to be a good girl.
I did not realize, that An thought, that Karkadann was laughing about her.

"Constantine, Koikaze," NSCS Atlas' voice projects from the tablet, "I want you two and NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander to pull out of the island. Bring back ANYTHING you four have brought here. If they are knocked out, either wait for them to wake up or drag them back." Constantine asked, "And what about our foods? We haven't eaten them." NSCS Atlas responded, "Eat them first, then take your belongings and pull out. I can wait for you four, but chances are I will deploy a squadron to immediately escort you four out of there, even if they are still unconscious."

Constantine nods, then turns to Dragan and asked, "When will our foods be ready?" Constantine herself sounded very calm and formal; in comparison, NSCS Atlas sounded way strict and stern. Meanwhile, Koikaze placed the unconscious Atlas and Alexander back to their seats. "And Constantine, I want a few words with the warship who called you four a 'quartet of failures and scrap metals' immediately."

Constantine stood up and approached Rhiannon, saying, "Excuse me, but my superior wished to have a word with you." She holds up the tablet that still shows NSCS Atlas - now sporting a stern and deathly serious expression - to Rhiannon. "You do not refer to those four as a quartet of failures and scrap metals." NSCS Atlas said to Rhiannon sternly. "Just because they act casually like that doesn't really mean they really do act like that even during duties. You have yet to see them in action, especially when it comes to being involved in negotiating with the pirates who were causing trouble in the Western Indian Ocean, breaking up fights nonviolently or even contribute to the international community. Those four may act like that, but that's because they are all military reservists; can you really blame them for being military reservists?"

He immediately cuts Rhiannon off from replying by adding, "And don't give me the sort of bull-crap about anything involving status or any other, whether it's from you or anyone else. You calling these four warships a "quartet of failures and scrap metals" is unnecessarily called for, and dominantly more insulting and disparaging, sometimes dehumanizing. I have expected any ships to show no unacceptable behaviors and at least show a good personality and genuine respect - that means no making jokes that sounded like insults toward anyone, nor teasing anyone. That also includes no making the environment toxic, hostile and unsafe; such criteria I have will definitely result in me pulling back the four Alliance warships present on your end. Back to you, Constantine."

Constantine went back to her seat to continue discussing with the dreadnought in the tablet. NSCS Atlas really didn't give Rhiannon any room to respond. "And Constantine, if any other ships want to present their objections or anything else, tell them I will not tolerate any of their BS." Constantine nods.

SDFS Rhiannon (a.k.a. Old Lady Rhi, don't call her that if you value your life).
Hi.
It's me again.
With my steak, I returned to my table not far away, where there were some people already sitting. I spent thirteen years as a helicopter carrier, from 1972 to the missile hit in the Second Vellenge War 1985, so I had been invited to the Carrier Meetup and as that had separated into small groups, I had found myself with Sealgaire, the submarine aircraft carrier SDFS F-8 Fulmaire and RKN Lempo, a Hukm-class Aircraft Carrier from Kyrenaia named in honour of a female demon in Ihmiset Mythology.
We had all gone our ways to get food and drink and were now returning to our table, I was actually the last. “My apologies for the delay, I was kept.”, I apologized.
“We saw.”, Fulmaire told me, shook her head, “Youth these days...”
She wanted to continue, when Constantine came up.
“Excuse me, but my superior wished to have a word with you.”, she said and I was about to deny both their request, seeing that I had literally better things to do, but before I could get a word in edgewise, the tirade already started.
I thought quickly, turned on the ol' radio and transmitted the rant, in its entirety, to everyone in range, drawing quite a bit of attention.
So, he was offended by me calling them a quartet of scrap metal and failures, which they were, the excuse being that I didn't see them – hang on... negotiating with pirates?! Negotiating?! Fucking negotiating?! With pirates?!
Was this immature little fuck of a wanna-be flagship fucking serious?! Negotiating with pirates?!
Pirates are to be given no quarter. Kill them all. Let the Gods sort them out., was the Standing Order 5 of the SDF-Navy, In Kyrenaia, it was Pirate vessels are to be sunk. Survivors are to be rescued and hung.
NEGOTIATING?!
Apparently, I was not the only one, who was incredulous and, in some cases, quite miffed.
And his other excuse was, that they were reservists.
In any case – had this tablet-guy, apparently his name was Atlas, too, ever considered, that they had given us no reason to respect them and all the more reason to dislike them? Just a thought.
And then, he had the gall to pull an End of Discussion-move. The fucking nerve!
However, instead of leaving me speechless, struggling for words or otherwise miffed, I laughed out loud and I was not the only one. Everyone within a good two dozen metres laughed out loud, loud enough to be picked up by the tablet.
And it was not aimed at me, either, but at the tablet-guy.
“Wait, hang on!”, a voice said, belonging to a Kyrenaian carrier – RKN Alaibhibu, a Shajaea-class Light Aircraft Carrier, two decades my junior. “I could have been an immature, impolite, unprofessional and inept piece of scrap metal while with the Reserve Fleet? Why didn't anyone tell me? Karkadann?!”
The older, larger Kyrenaian Carrier shook her head. “No, the RKN is a professional navy, not whatever bunch of traitors to humanity, which negotiates with pirates, that alliance is supposed to be!”
“No, no, no, stop right there, Miss Karkadann!”, Naya, the Teressian Carrier, said over the agreeing murmurs, “You are creating a toxic, hostile and unsafe environment.” She spoke as if she was speaking to a child. It was a mockery of tablet-guy and it was obvious in it, too. “What will be next? Sending these poor, poor warships out to war? Where they might bump their toes?”
That created a shockwave of laughs.
At this point, we were not teasing them, we were making fun of the quartet.
“That... what was it, Rhi? Quartet of failures and scrap metal?”, Sealgaire asked for everyone's consideration. I nodded. “No, that needs to be shorter... quartet of rustbuckets?”
“Short-shafted guy and his make-believe harem!”, one of the LBTs, Spardrí, I think she was, proposed.
“Dinky Dinghy Squadron.”, a corvette, one of the Scoths, threw in.
That drew more approval.
“Driftwood Quartet.”, another Scoth chimed in.
“Statement.”, SDFS Nead Foiche, a drone carrier with a calm, even voice, stated, “I find Tub-of-Lard-Freighters fitting.”
That caused chuckles. “I give you a 2 for the effort.”, I told Nead, who smiled.
“Statement – a good grade is almost very good.”, she said to more general amusement.
“Unsat Unit.”, one of the Teressians, one of the Lattenzaun-sisters, even, proposed.
“Now that might be a bit too much!”, I moderated. Unsat, or unsatisfactory, was a grave insult in many navies, as it meant, that the own work was indeed that, unsatisfactory – and there was nothing sailors hated more then being called unsat. “Sure, they are a bunch of whiny brats, who run to their flagship every time they meet opposition, who then tells me to not pull rank while trying to pull rank, and failing at that, who run away because the mean, mean lady sad something mean and... actually, put Unsat Unit on the list.”
“FLOB Troupe.”, a calm, gentle voice chimed in. RKN Shaytin moved sensually, with a sway of her hips belying her more gothic style, into the spotlight. “Freeloading Oxygen Breathers. Make a guess, where that one comes from.” There was a round of chuckles as one of the Scoths was beginning to crush hard on her. “Or we just call them boring.”
That got, especially from a woman of Shaytin's disposition and character, a lot of attention – the vampiric woman, and nuclear attack submarine, used boring as an insult.
“I think we stick with Dinky Dinghy Squadron. It sounds twee.”, I decided with a smile, then shrugged, “But ultimately, we must soon wave the Dinky Dinghy Squadron goodbye, everyone, as you heard the tablet-guy, who thinks, that negotiating with pirates is a good idea...” A round of disappointed noises, most of them played. “...because we are so disrespectful towards people, who gave us no reason to show them respect and all the more reason to dislike them, and to make them feel it, he is ordering them home.”
I turned on my seat, addressing the four: “Remember, though, Dinky Dinghy Squadron – you were assured Free Passage, you will get Free Passage out of the Free Lands' Exclusive Economic Zone. Bearing 1-4-5 is the quickest.”

SDFS Dragan.
“Hush, I wanna hear that.”, I told whichever of the quartet of scrap metal and failures, soon to be renamed the Dinky Dinghy Squadron, approached me as Rhi was approached.
I chuckled several times, but once the main act was over and the name search began, I turned to whichever of them it was. If they thought, that they could take Old Lady Rhi, of all shippeople, down a peg, on her home turf, while admitting they were negotiating with pirates, they were... wrong, to say the least.
They were also wrong in believing... well, other way around.
“Now, when will your food be ready?”, I returned the question with a grin, that would make the Cheshire Cat look as if she was depressed. “Remember the part with the Police Boy? The guy, who told you, that I can deny you service for any reason I see fit?”
I left that a moment to let that sink in.
“You rust buckets thought tablet-guy, and no, I don't give a flying fuck about his name, can talk down Old Lady Rhi – and while this should make me pity your stupidity, girlie, it makes me angry at you. I know Rhi, for decades now, I fought at her side more often then I can count, and she has a lot of points.”, I told her, “Plus, you negotiate with pirates.” I let a beat pass. “All reasons for me to deny you service. I'm afraid you'll have to leave hungry. Dismissed.”
I turned back to the line.
“Who wants a floor tile sized steak?!”, I called out, “I also have a few flatbreads and asparagi, chicken and fish!”
“Fish for meeee!”, Ochtapas called out, her tentacle hair raising one tentacle to make people aware of her.
It worked.

[Champlaine]

MRS Mahine (D43)

---

Naval Yard Cartreffa Island

"Un hiver nucleaire? C'est un sentiment assez fort, non?" Mahine laughed a little nervously, the reference going over the girl's head- was America really that bad, she wondered? Even her patrols along the archipelago back home were enjoyable. Meridon was a pretty country from the sea, but America sounded like something else.

"San Francisco? Ehh.. non, mes déploiements avant celui-ci ont été limités au la voisinage du la Meridon.Vous voyez, normalement, je suis attache au le Groupe de Tâches du Porte-Avions 3." Mahine held three fingers up, for a rather clear-cut reason. "Le drapeau de la flotte, Kohaku.. ah, pardon, le vaisseau amiral- elle est nouvelle.Nous avons passé beaucoup de temps sur... ah, comment dit-on.. 'Workups'?"

A word she drew a blank on. Mahine was more surprised she was remembering enough to hold a decent conversation. Ah, well, here's hoping the girl spoke a little English. She was quickly noticing that her throat was dry, however, a subject she wished to remedy.

"Cette conversation est tres agréable, oui, mais, j'espère tu comprendras si une fille a besoin d'alcool apres quelques combats, oui? Envie d'un verre vous-même ? Je suis un très bonne fabricante de boissons, vous savez~"

As she did so, however, she caught eyes on some sort of commotion going on, that looked rather confrontational- some girl holding a tablet over that was barking something to one of the host ships. Unpleasant-looking in the entirety, she realized. She didn't want the party ruined already, she just fucking got here!

"Iyaaaaah... fuck's going on over there? Someone getting reamed this early?"

She caught a glance of her new-found friend from the side.

"Une mer orageuse à venir, on dirait. Viens-tu?"

«Oui, je crois que vous essayez de dire, verkout» Depardieu tilted her head to the slightly left and said with a modest accent. «Je comprends»

Her French was good, the Champlaine ship madame thought, a curt hum almost leaving her throat. Hmm, alcohol…? Not that she was a drinker herself, but she was NOT going to ignore that…other than a certain commotion, which prompted her attention via a glance.

«J’ai l’impression que c’est un incident verbal...» The brown haired woman muttered within the vicinity of Mahine. «Je n’ai rien entendu d’inhabituel ici, pas de crimes majeurs ou de reputations pour demarrer. Je n’oserais pas etre ici si c’etait le cas.»

She almost chuckled on the last sentence, reminding her of another moment in her service life. «Pour une raison quelconque, ils me rappellent quelqu’un que j’ai connu autrefois.» She muttered before she cleared her throat and nodded to the Legatian. «Oh…already? Hmm, ca va. Alors, rappelez-vous les rivages.»

Rivages referring to the sand-sculptured recreation of Bahia Bodega wherein she will reintroduced at a later time. For now, she eyed the horizon behind the shores and accompanied Mahine.

«Ah, oui…» Depardieu recalled as they walked. «About dis…hiver nucleaire. I vas referring to my life…in port. Let’s just say, c’est comme etre garde a la maison pendant que vos amis et freres et sœurs sortent et jouent.»

[The Grand Western Empire]

RKN Seraphiel.
“And I hope, that I will succeed!”, a new voice said from behind us.
Now, when one things of a 'shipgirl of a shore installation', in essence an Installation Type, one might picture a mighty woman, a tall and powerful looking woman – Caja was none of that. She was quite short, shorter then Rogavis, a silver-haired girl with red eyes and she was a bit flat.
That she wore a maid bikini added neither to her size, nor to her mystique, let alone to her looking powerful. She actually looked a bit weird.
She also looked friendly, thanks to her smile and sunny look, despite her paleness.
“Hi, I'm the Cartreffa Island Installation Type – just call me Caja, it's easier!”, she said and bowed her head lightly, then offered her hand, “You must be Rogavis, the destroyer with engine troubles Sera mentioned?” She gave me a glance, I nodded. “Wonderful... now, Mister Rogavis – or just Rogavis? Or a nickname?”
I smiled. My new friend would get the help he needed – however, Caja undoubtedly had some questions. I would remain closeby, if only to provide moral support or to explain, where explanations were needed.
My smile also went to Rogavis, reassuring him that, yes, this was Caja, and yes, she would do her hardest to get him running again.
Literally.

Once more, Rogavis jumped. He also nearly drew his cannons. Again... 'I really need to get that under control' he thought as he facepalmed. Sooner or later, he would actually draw a weapon and make a fool out of himself. He stood up and turned around. "Uh," Rogavis looked at Caja. She was far shorter than he expected. He accepted her hand while he tried to look like he wasn't scrutinizing her. "You can just call me Rogavis. I have no nicknames. Though some people call me Solar Star since that was my name back when I was supposed to be launched with Emperor's Light. But the cost of me meant I was replaced by someone else."

Rogavis was happy for a moment, but Seraphiel's smile off-put him for some reason. He suddenly felt like there were probably a few things he should've asked, "Uh, what did you mean wonderful? And how are you going to repair me?"