Pacific Ocean
Enterprise stood outside her Ship's Right Wing Bridge, gazing at the vast ocean. As her gaze swept across the horizon, she caught a glimpse of a flying silhouette.
The silhouette of a bird, an eagle that looked very familiar, flew towards her Ship Bridge. The eagle landed on the railings beside her, the sound of metallic clanking as its sharp talons gripped the railings.
"Spock," she said, recognizing the eagle. "Sorry, boy, I forgot about you."
The eagle was her former Admiral Pike's pet, named Spock because it always stayed by the Admiral's side. The crew and officers on deck referred to him as Spock, a reference to 'Star Trek'.
"I'm sorry, I didn't notice you were with us the whole time," Enterprise said apologetically, gently patting its head.
Spock screeched as she patted him.
~Several Miles Away~
A Constellation-class frigate, USS Lafayette, and a World War II Gato-class submarine, USS Albacore, cruised side by side towards the Strike Group's location. Both vessels maintained a steady cruising speed.
The midday sun's heat intensified across the tropical Pacific, indicating the time. The Strike Group's silhouette blurred in the heat, but its shadow was visible in the distance.
USS Lafayette, under Enterprise's orders, was escorting Albacore, their guest, to the Strike Group for a private chat. Her information, particularly the existence of the US Government's counterpart in this world, piqued the Strike Group's interest, offering a tempting prospect of alliance.
As they approached, Lafayette addressed her through the comms.
"Strike Group, ETA 20 minutes."
"Okay," Albacore replied cheerfully.
Albacore was excited to meet this "Formidable" Strike Group. The prowess she had witnessed was remarkable, and she hoped to gain recognition from her superiors for bringing these formidable Kansens to their side.
Her attention shifted upwards as she heard a thunderous boom. Finding no heavy clouds, she pondered the thunderclap. At the edge of her vision, she spotted an oddly shaped plane, too sharp to be recognized as a conventional aircraft, with no propellers in front.
Above the two vessels, two F/A-25 Hellcats soared, their thunderous booms echoing across the sky as they patrolled. Enterprise had sent them to provide air cover for Lafayette's interception, determined to avoid repeating past mistakes.
The two planes acted as the frigate's air cover for the submarine's interception. Twenty minutes later, the two vessels arrived at the Strike Group's location.
As Albacore traced the Aircraft, her eyes landed on the massive aircraft carrier at the center of the formidable Strike Group. Its sheer size nearly made her eyes pop.
At the conning tower of her Submarine, she dashed forward to the railing. "It's... huge!"
She rubbed her eyes to ensure the heat wasn't playing tricks on her sight. The size was undeniably real.
The imposing size of the steel giant dwarfed any Azur Lane Fleet Carrier. She theorized it even surpassed the 50,000-tonnage Carriers in design. Her assumption about the tonnage was correct, though the true figure would have shocked her.
On the aft helideck of USS Lafayette, Manjuus in Jersey were preparing an MH-60 Seahawk. The Seahawk unfolded its rotors, ready for flight operations.
Lafayette boarded the Seahawk as the Manjuus finished their flight check-up. The Seahawk lifted off the Frigate's Helipad, hovering above the World War II submarine and slowly descending.
Albacore was still bewildered by the mechanism of the aircraft hovering above her submarine's deck, even after seeing it a second time.
As the Seahawk lowered to the submarine's deck, Lafayette offered her a hand at the door, as she struggled to climb aboard the Helicopter.
"Need some lift?" he asked, reaching out.
"Yes," she said, taking his hand and climbing aboard.
Onboard the Seahawk, Albacore looked down at the massive carrier and its wide flight deck through the Helicopter'swindow. Multiple Hornets and Hellcats, along with their Drone Wingman, were parked along the deck's edge.
"How big is this carrier?" she asked, her voice filled with bewilderment.
"She has a length of 1,106 feet, or 337 meters, a beam of 134 feet, or 41 meters, a flight deck width of 256 feet, or 78 meters, and a draft of 39 feet, or 12 meters," he replied.
"That's how big she is?" she exclaimed, surprised by the size of the supercarrier below.
"Yes, that's how big she is..." he said, smirking at her genuine surprise and amazement.
The Seahawk landed on the USS Enterprise's flight deck, its tricycle wheels touching down on the solid metal deck. The two unbuckled their seatbelts and disembarked.
Manjuus from Jersey formed a parallel line on deck as Enterprise awaited their arrival. Lafayette shifted his posture and saluted to the rank.
"Ma'am, the guest has arrived."
"At ease," she said, returning the salute.
"Well then... it seems my expectation failed me," she muttered after her eyes landed on Albacore. She had expected Albacore to be of the caliber of Nuclear Submarines, but it seemed the World War II submarine followed the principle of tonnage by age.
She cleared her throat to welcome her guest. "Welcome aboard the USS Enterprise. My name is Enterprise." She extended a handshake.
Albacore, in a daze from what she was seeing, hadn't expected to see a carbon copy of their 'Enterprise' with some slight changes in appearance, visible in her physique and tall stature.
She snapped back to reality when Lafayette gently tapped her back. She straightened her posture and accepted Enterprise's offered handshake, then introduced herself.
"M-My name is USS Albacore of the Gato-class submarine," she said, her voice still a little shaky.
Enterprise maintained her professional demeanor, as any commanding officer would. She didn't react to Albacore's confusion or stuttering, letting it slide.
Albacore was still trying to understand why this Enterprise was so different from the one she knew. She was a little prettier and much taller, it seemed. The way she moved with such professionalism, her seasoned commanding officer's voice, and her clothing, similar yet different, all resonated with authority, reaching deep within Albacore.
Enterprise chuckled softly, trying to ease the awkwardness of the introduction. She understood the bewilderment of seeing a Supercarrier from her time.
"Shall we continue this conversation in a more comfortable room?" she asked in a friendly tone, wanting to avoid putting too much pressure on the young Shipgirl.
"Y-Yes," Albacore replied, still slightly flustered.
Enterprise guided Albacore through the Carrier's narrow corridors, passing bulkhead after bulkhead, to her spacious admiral's office for a private conversation.
Carrier Hangar
Lafayette walked into the carrier's hangar. The hangar deck was bustling with activity, as Manjuus conducted maintenance on F/A18 Super Hornets, stripping them of equipment and armaments.
The F/A-25 Hellcats were covered with special tarps to prevent scratches to their stealth coating and paint. The exposed parts were meticulously cleaned with distilled water to prevent saltwater and corrosion.
He wandered aimlessly through the hangar, passing the busy Manjuus. He was thinking about the 'Rigging Activation' that Albacore had mentioned. That part intrigued him, especially after seeing Lucas do it.
"Feel your heart and think about your ship, huh?" he mumbled, recalling Albacore's explanation.
"Didn't expect you'd leave the fleet as a kid and return as a man," Lucas's voice boomed, startling him.
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He quickly turned to see Lucas, who had a smug look on his face. He looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment.
Lucas laughed. "Just joking... don't take it so seriously."
Lafayette glanced around to see if anyone had heard, then breathed a sigh of relief. He glared at Lucas, who was leaning against the hangar doors, still smiling.
Lucas's expression turned serious. "Now, tell me everything you know about these Unknown Vessels and that Tester β."
Lucas took it seriously, because that first encounter could have been his last. He had felt the brush of death.
Lafayette walked over and told him what he knew about the Sirens, their intentions, and their mission in this world.
Enterprise's Office
"So, you're telling me... you've been fighting this alien race called 'Sirens' for over 40 years. And the one we just destroyed was an 'Elite Siren'. And this 'Azur Lane Alliance' was created to combat the Sirens' onslaught, but other 'Factions' or nations broke off to create their own alliances using 'Siren technology' to fight the Sirens. And now you're fighting each other while the Sirens are still out there? And Shipgirls are made to fight the Sirens, but now you're fighting other factions' Shipgirls?"
Enterprise summarized the convoluted story, rubbing her temples. Albacore nodded in agreement.
"Yes, we're currently fighting the Crimson Axis and the Sirens simultaneously."
Enterprise leaned back in her chair and sighed, muttering in disappointment.
"This whole situation is messed up from the start. Humanity has always been blinded by power and greed, ignoring the consequences of their actions until it's too late."
"The Azur Lane Alliance can offer your fleet a port to dock," Albacore proposed confidently.
Having this fleet fight on their side against the Sirens and Crimson Axis would be a significant advantage. The battle would be onesided, and they had an Eagle Union prefix.
"Is the harbor large enough to accommodate this vessel?" Enterprise asked, gesturing to her ship.
"Yes. The harbor currently houses hundreds of ships. I just need to contact Azur Lane Base Command for confirmation," Albacore replied.
"Please do," Enterprise said, gesturing towards the door.
Albacore got up and left the office. Enterprise watched her go, then pressed a button on her desk's comms. "Bunker Hill, Laffey. Are you two listening?" "Yes, Ma'am," Bunker Hill responded.
"I want you two to monitor radio transmissions for any information. If you find anything suspicious, update me ASAP."
"Yes, Ma'am," they both replied.
Hangar Deck
"So, you're telling me... we just clapped an Alien's ass with a 2,000lbs GBU Bomb right at its forehead. And blew it to kingdom come?" Lucas said, as Lafayette just nodded.
Lucas then remembered the movie "Battleship" and mumbled to himself. "Should I do an Anchors Drift?"
Lafayette beside him was confused by what Lucas was talking about. "What?"
He then saw Albacore searching around, as a Manjuu guided her through the complex inner layout of the carrier. Lafayette went to where Albacore was.
Lucas noticed Lafayette leaving and followed him. The two then met up with her, Lucas keeping his distance, not wanting to summon the FBI or, worse, the media.
"Ummm... Can you please help me go back to my submarine?" Albacore asked Lafayette for a favor, but before he could reply, Lucas spoke first.
"Sure, follow me, Miss." The two looked at him, confused. Lucas waved a hand, gesturing for them to follow. They walked towards the port side of the carrier.
Lafayette thought, 'What are you planning this time, Asshole?' Lucas ordered the Manjuu to prepare an RHIB for the two. The two then got into the RHIB, but Lucas stayed on the Carrier.
Lafayette asked, "Aren't you going to join us?"
Lucas responded, "It's your job; the escort mission is placed in your hands. You have to escort our guest back to her Submarine safely." He said with a nod of understanding.
He then gave a small salute and smiled. He then gave the order to lower the RHIB to the water. This surprised the two, and they started blushing.
Lafayette mused, "I guess it's in my hands again."
Albacore inquired, "What did he mean by that?"
"Ah, my secondary mission as a Frigate. Convoy escort, or just escorting missions," he replied.
As the RHIB hit the water and was released from the ropes, the Manjuus on the RHIB hit the dashboard and sped towards the World War II Submarine.
Off with the RHIB, Albacore reached the deck of her Submarine. She thanked Lafayette and the Manjuus for the ride. She then went inside and headed to the communications room to transmit a report to Azur Lane Base Command.
She tapped the telegraph key in the rhythm of the code. The report she made would take time to reach Azur Lane Base Command, and another hour for a reply.
Unbeknownst to her, the two Warships cruising beside her submarine were currently tapping the radio transmissions for information gathering. The Communication Operator (Manjuu) decoded the transmission and matched it to the US Navy World War II Naval Code.
Bunker Hill was looking at the monitor screen. A Meowfficer handed her a tablet containing the decrypted transmission that Albacore was transmitting to Azur Lane Base Command.
"The message was clear, nothing suspicious there," Bunker Hill reported back to Enterprise.
"Same here... nothing too suspicious," Laffey sent her report too.
Laffey was seated at the control panel of the weapons operator, looking at the screen showing a POV of a Mk-45 Naval Gun pointing at the World War II Submarine. Her right hand held a joystick, her finger fiddling with the trigger of the controller.
The reason why Laffey was thirsting for blood was because of the hype surrounding the DDGX Program of the US Navy to counter China's Type 055 Destroyers. Laffey had the same mentality as the F-22 Raptor. They were both unable to use their full potential, which was to dominate the battlespace. She also had the mentality of "end the fight before it even started" and the spirit of a killer bunny.
~Down Below~
Arizona felt pity for the World War II Submarine above. The poor thing was surrounded on all sides: two ships flanked her, and he was beneath the waters.
"This is way too precautionary. Lafayette can wreck this antique – but this is way too much," he said in a low rumble.
His Submarine lurked below the Strike Group, his role to detect any underwater intruders and threats. He was also instructed to lay low; his nonappearance was their trump card against any unknowns.
A few hours had passed. The Enterprise Carrier Strike Group was now closer to Hawaiian territorial waters. At the CIC, the radar screen onboard the Aegis Destroyer lit up as dozens of Fighter Aircraft patrolled the airspace above Pearl Harbor.
Their Strike Group was not yet spotted by the patrolling Propeller Aircraft above Pearl Harbor. Four F/A-25 Hellcats, along with their drone wingmen, sneaked above the patrolling Propeller Aircraft below, the grey stealth coating of the jets blending with the afternoon sun.
HMS Belfast and USS Lafayette were to follow USS Albacore as she guided the two frigates through the shallow waters of Hawaii and the entrance to the sheltered harbor.
Belfast would be the diplomat, as she had more experience in diplomatic talks, while Lafayette would act as an escort or security to the diplomat.
The two Frigates' small and nimble size was enough to maneuver their way out of the harbor if diplomatic talks broke down.
Azur Lane Naval Base Pearl Harbor
~2 Hours Earlier~
Two middle-aged men sat in an office, reading reports about recent battles. One man wore a US Navy Admiral uniform, and the other a Royal Navy Admiral uniform.
The Royal Navy Admiral spoke up. "You seem quite calm, Nimitz?"
Adm. Nimitz replied calmly. "I have faith in the girls. They'll return safe and sound."
The door suddenly burst open, and a man in a US Navy Officer uniform entered, holding report papers.
"What's the current status of the fleet we sent to Midway? And the reports we received eight hours ago and now?" Adm. Nimitz asked the Officer.
"According to the reports, the fleet sent to intercept the Sakura Empire's fleet at Midway, which went missing for four days, has reappeared in the Barents Strait, closer to Alaskan waters. The fleet is currently heading back to Pearl, and the heavily damaged ships are enroute to Bremerton, Washington, for extensive repairs," the Officer read.
"What do you think, Sir Philip?" Adm. Nimitz asked the Royal Navy Admiral. Adm. Philip finished reading his Royal Navy reports.
"According to my assessment, we still have enough force to fight off the Sirens and counter Sakura Empire forces. Thanks for the report, Thomas," Adm. Philip said, patting the officer's shoulder.
The three breathed a sigh of relief, glad they still had enough fighting force to hold off the Sirens. Fighting on two fronts was a nightmare for any commanding officer.
A white-haired woman in a white dress with a black coat, a blue rose pinned to her right chest pocket, speed-walked down the hallway, her footsteps echoing. She held a brown folder with a report, heading for the Admiral's office.
The door burst open, and the woman entered, startling the three men inside. The door hinges nearly broke.
Adm. Nimitz recomposed himself. "What's the matter, Yorktown? Is it so urgent you had to break down the door?"
Yorktown spoke. "I received a sudden transmission report from USS Albacore, and it's urgent!" She opened the report and began to read.
"The report reads: During my war patrol in the Southern Pacific, I encountered and met an unknown fleet calling themselves the 'Carrier Strike Group,' with Eagle Union and Royal Navy prefixes. The Carrier Strike Group consists of nine ships: Two Destroyers, Four Aegis Cruisers, One Cargo Ship, and Two Carriers. This fleet destroyed 20 Siren mass-produced ships and defeated an Elite Siren in under a minute. Their technology, from what I observed, is similar to Iron Blood, but more advanced."
(Albacore didn't know Maya's nationality, as Enterprise hid it due to World War II. She also didn't know about the two Nuclear Submarines lurking beneath the Carrier Strike Group. She misidentified the Frigates as Destroyers and the Aegis Destroyers as Cruisers.)
The three Officers were dumbfounded. Defeating a Siren fleet, especially an Elite Siren, in under a minute was unbelievable.
"Is she trying to prank us again? This can't be right! Eight Combat-
Capable Vessels and one Cargo Ship defeating a Siren Fleet and an Elite Siren in a minute? It took us ten Battleships and six Carriers four hours to defeat one Elite Siren! This is unbelievable!" Admiral Philip exclaimed, sounding like he'd been pranked.
"Sir Philip... please calm down. She might be telling the truth," Adm. Nimitz said.
"Maybe she's trying to pull a prank again," Thomas said.
"No. We know she has a tendency to prank, but she wouldn't during a patrol. She knows how dangerous the Southern Pacific is. And she wouldn't use highly encrypted code for a prank," Yorktown said.
"She said one of the Destroyers has a Royal Navy prefix, right...?" Adm. Philip asked, calming down.
"Yes. According to her, one Destroyer has a Royal Navy prefix, and the rest are Eagle Union," she said.
"What's the description of the ships?" Adm. Philip asked.
Yorktown shuffled through the pages. "Let's see... all the ships have a single 5-inch cannon at the front. Their size is comparable to a Light Cruiser, the mast similar to a Heavy Cruiser layout with a rotating radar. At the aft, there's a landing deck for a weird aircraft called a 'Helicopter.'"
"Maybe it's a Scout Ship?" Thomas guessed.
Adm. Philip held his chin. "Maybe... the lack of cannons in the front and the hangar and Flight Deck in the aft... that fits the description of a scout ship."
'A fleet consisting of Eagle Union and Royal Navy that's not in our naval register?' Nimitz thought.
"Who's the flagship of the Carrier Strike Group?" Adm.
Nimitz asked Yorktown.
Yorktown looked at the report. "It says here the flagship is CVN 80 USS—" She stopped, covering her mouth in shock.
Adm. Nimitz and Adm. Philip stared, waiting.
"Is there a problem, Yorktown?" Adm. Nimitz asked.
She took a deep breath. "No, it's nothing... It says here the flagship is CVN 80 USS Enterprise."
The officers were confused. Yorktown was shocked to see her sister's name.
Adm. Philip and Cmdr. Thomas thought, 'How did she get there?'
"Wait. I thought Enterprise was sent to Midway to intercept Sakura Empire forces, not the Southern Pacific," Thomas said.
"Maybe a Siren disguising as a Shipgirl is trying to fool us!" Adm. Philip exclaimed.
"It could be... but there are no reports of Sirens disguising as Shipgirls to infiltrate Azur Lane Bases," Yorktown said. "The report said there are two carriers. Who's the other Carrier?" Adm. Nimitz asked.
Yorktown looked again. "She didn't report the name, but gave a description. It has a length of 844 feet and carries aircraft with rotors on top, called Helicopters. The Aircraft is alien in design, but the rotors help it gain lift."
"Rotors on top?!"
"Is that similar to a gyrocopter?" Adm. Nimitz asked.
"I heard from Royal Intelligence that Iron Blood uses gyrocopters to hunt Siren Submarines in the North Sea," Adm. Philip said.
"So, the Carrier is only used for Anti-Submarine, huh..." Thomas thought.
"Maybe..." Yorktown said, flipping a page.
"The other carrier has—what? It can't be!"
"It can't be what?" the officers asked.
"The Carrier has a length of 1,106 feet, or 337 meters, and a beam of 134 feet, or 41 meters."
"No one in their right mind can build that kind of carrier!" Adm. Philip and Cmdr. Thomas exclaimed.
"That's a lot of resources," Adm. Nimitz muttered.
"And Albacore said she's their flagship... USS Enterprise CVN-80."
Adm. Nimitz thought, 'C is Cruiser, V is Volare or Aviation, and 80 is the hull number. What does the 'N' mean?'
Yorktown continued reading. "She also requested permission for the Carrier Strike Group to dock at the harbor. Their original plan was to sail to Naval Base Pearl Harbor before the Siren Fleet intercepted them. At our current speed, we'll reach the base at 4:00 PM."
"What should we do?" Yorktown asked Adm. Nimitz.
"We'll meet them at the harbor," Adm. Nimitz replied.
"Yorktown, prepare the naval base shore defenses and air defenses."
"Sir Philip, I want all ships in port ready. I don't want a repeat of the Sakura Empire's surprise attack."
Adm. Nimitz ordered Cmdr. Thomas.
"Thomas, prepare the base for the fleet's arrival; we have an hour to prepare everything in the port," Adm. Nimitz ordered Cmdr. Thomas.
Thomas saluted sharply, a bead of sweat already forming on his brow, and rushed out of the office. He needed to inform the dockyard workers, Manjuus, and other Shipgirls on standby. He envisioned a chaotic scene unfolding, and he was right.
Azur Lane Base Anti-Air Guns were being manned by Manjuus, who were, as always, a picture of organized chaos. They scurried around like a bunch of "headless chickens," running towards their assigned positions, their tiny arms struggling to lift heavy ammunition.
Camouflaged Shore Batteries, hidden beneath layers of foliage and netting, were being manned and loaded with shells. The massive barrels swiveled ominously towards the entrance of the harbor, ready to deter any unwelcome intruders.
Shipgirls on standby were ordered to a high level of alertness. They jumped into the water, activating their rigging with splashes and bursts of energy. Some grumbled good-naturedly about being interrupted during their tea time, while others were already strategizing combat maneuvers.
The whole base was now a scene of controlled chaos, a carefully orchestrated frenzy as everyone rushed to man their stations and await the Admiral's orders. Carriers were in a hurry to launch their Fighter Interceptors, their decks a whirlwind of activity as Planes took off to patrol the skies above the base, ensuring there would be no surprise attacks.