Horizon Atoll: Hearts of Steel

The War Room Had Beach Umbrellas

At precisely eight hundred hours on Wednesday morning, Aster discovered an important fact about military planning.

It was much easier to plan an operation when the enemy wasn’t an eighteen-year-old boy who could defeat an entire delegation by saying no, thank you.

She had encountered Blackwake vessels before.

She’d fought aircraft.

Escorted transports.

Survived a horrible organic mine.

Helped train inexperienced Keelborn.

And learned that a great many problems could be solved through sufficiently careful preparation, proper communications, and occasionally an alarming amount of five-inch ammunition.

None of those experiences had prepared her for Commander Kade Bher.

The current situation was dire.

The objective was straightforward.

The target was stationary.

The target possessed no visible fortifications, heavy weapons, or active defensive equipment.

The target’s height was five feet three inches.

And yet—

”Three failures.”

Aster looked down at the notebook resting on the picnic table.

”Three!”

Cassidy Boone stood opposite her with both hands planted dramatically on the wood.

”Technically, the second operation succeeded.”

Aster raised her eyes.

The American SIA woman nodded firmly.

”We delivered food.”

Morgan Reyes, who had been attempting to enjoy breakfast, slowly lowered her sandwich.

”That wasn’t the objective.”

Cassidy looked offended.

”It was an objective.”

”You gave him barbecue.”

”Correct.”

”He ate it.”

”Correct.”

”And stayed in his room.”

Cassidy considered that.

Then sighed.

”...A tactical complication.”

Zofia Kowalska covered her mouth.

Réka Varga began laughing.

Aster looked toward the heavens.

The heavens, unsurprisingly, offered no assistance.

The third morning of Beach Week had arrived with gorgeous weather. The southern recreation beach lay beneath a cloudless sky, its pale sand already warming under the sun while gentle waves broke along the marked swimming zone.

Several personnel were preparing the volleyball courts for another day.

Eliza Ward’s kitchen staff had begun setting up the cooking area.

A pair of off-duty maintenance workers were arranging folding chairs beneath the largest shade structures.

And the fairy crews attached to Yuna’s Illustrious-class equipment were once again constructing a miniature recreational compound on a raised table.

Everything was proceeding beautifully.

Except for one thing.

Kade was not there.

Again.

Aster looked toward the notebook.

At the top of the page, written in large, determined letters, were the words:

OPERATION: EXTRACT COMMANDER

Beneath them:

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: GET HIM TO COME BECAUSE HE WANTS TO.

A second line had been added by Cassidy.

SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: DEFEAT SARCASM.

A third line, written in Alina Morozova’s considerably neater handwriting, stated:

ALL PARTICIPATION VOLUNTARY. NO DECEPTION, FORCE, OR UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY.

Réka had added one more.

NO DOOR REMOVAL.

And beneath that, in smaller letters:

APPARENTLY.

Alina looked at the final note.

Then slowly turned toward the Hungarian woman.

”Réka.”

The girl smiled.

”Yes?”

”Why is apparently underlined?”

Réka considered the question.

Then answered:

”For emphasis.”

Morgan closed her eyes.

Cassidy grinned.

Aster tried not to laugh.

She failed.

Nearby, Mira—the native SIA instructor who had agreed to observe the planning session—rested her elbows against the table and sighed.

”I would like to remind everyone that the Commander is allowed to spend his leave in his room.”

Aster nodded quickly.

”Yes!”

”And if he refuses an invitation, that’s his decision.”

”Yes!”

”And nobody is going to turn this into a genuine security problem.”

”Of course!”

Mira looked toward Cassidy.

The American placed one hand against her chest.

”Why are you looking at me?”

”Experience.”

Cassidy sighed.

”Everybody keeps saying that.”

”Because experience has been very educational.”

Zofia burst out laughing.

Even Alina smiled.

Aster opened her notebook again.

”All right. This time, we’re being smart.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

”That’s a new approach.”

The Fletcher-class girl looked offended.

”Hey!”

Cassidy leaned forward.

”Actually, I have several ideas.”

Alina immediately closed her eyes.

”Of course you do.”

The American ignored her.

”First, we need to understand the enemy.”

Aster nodded solemnly.

”Right.”

Morgan sighed.

”He’s not an enemy.”

Cassidy raised one finger.

”Opposition force.”

”He’s not that either.”

”Independent neutral state?”

Réka nodded.

”Better.”

Zofia smiled.

”With an extremely aggressive border policy.”

Aster began laughing.

Morgan stared toward the water.

For a moment, she seemed to regret every decision that had brought her to this particular beach umbrella.

Cassidy continued.

”Commander Bher’s defensive strengths are obvious. He likes books, quiet rooms, sleeping, and food that other people deliver directly to him.”

Darya Belova wrote that down.

Morgan slowly turned.

”Darya.”

The Russian woman looked up.

”What?”

”Please don’t put that in a tactical assessment.”

Darya considered the request.

Then nodded.

”All right.”

She continued writing.

Morgan sighed.

Across the table, Tali examined the notes with considerable interest.

The synthetic technician tilted her head.

”His previous responses indicate that appeals based on recreation, nutrition, and professional benefits were ineffective because he was already satisfying those needs.”

Aster leaned forward.

”So what do we do?”

Tali considered the question.

”Offer something he doesn’t currently have.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened.

Réka smiled.

Zofia leaned closer.

Alina immediately raised one hand.

”No.”

Cassidy blinked.

”I haven’t said anything!”

”You were about to.”

”Unproven accusation.”

Mira folded her arms.

”What, exactly, does he not have?”

For several seconds, the table fell quiet.

Then Mina, who had been listening from a nearby chair, closed her book.

”Company.”

Everyone turned.

The Leander-class girl looked faintly embarrassed by the sudden attention.

Then she continued.

”Not a crowd. Not another task. Just company.”

Aster considered that.

Mina looked toward the distant residential district.

”He has peace and quiet in his room. We keep offering him things he can have without leaving.”

Cassidy slowly lowered her sunglasses.

”Oh.”

Mina continued.

”What he doesn’t have is the chance to sit with the people he’s helped.”

Aster smiled.

Yuna, seated nearby, nodded gently.

”That sounds right.”

Calla folded her arms.

”Then the invitation should be simple.”

June, resting comfortably beneath an umbrella with her injured side protected, raised one hand.

”Which means Cassidy isn’t allowed to write it.”

Cassidy looked outraged.

”EXCUSE ME?”

Elsa looked toward her.

”She has a point.”

Zofia collapsed into giggles.

Scarlett Hayes, who had been standing near the volleyball equipment, approached the table.

”What did I miss?”

Riko followed immediately.

”We’re invading Kade’s room!”

Alina turned.

”WE ARE NOT.”

The Yamato-class girl froze.

Then blinked.

”...We’re not?”

Scarlett sighed.

”Riko.”

”What?”

”Try listening before declaring war.”

Aster looked down at her notebook.

Then toward the assembled girls.

A slow smile spread across her face.

”All right.”

She picked up her pencil.

”New plan.”

Cassidy leaned forward.

”Operation?”

Aster nodded.

”Operation.”

The American grinned.

The Fletcher-class girl wrote:

PHASE ONE: A PROPER INVITATION.

Then beneath it:

PHASE TWO: SHOW HIM WHAT HE’S MISSING.

Then a third line:

PHASE THREE: DO NOT GET OUTSMARTED BY A MAN HOLDING A PAPERBACK.

Morgan read the final entry.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

Then she sighed.

”That’s going to be the difficult one.”

 By nine o’clock, the planning session had attracted more personnel than the previous day’s volleyball championship.

This was not intentional.

At least, Aster insisted it wasn’t.

But a gathering of Keelborn, SIA women, native technicians, and off-duty naval personnel clustered around a picnic table was naturally going to attract attention.

Especially when Cassidy began referring to the occasion as a combined-arms operation.

The two Allen M. Sumner-class destroyer girls wandered over.

Then an Akizuki-class girl.

Then one of the other Fletcher girls.

Then Senko, carrying a pitcher of cold water and looking thoroughly confused by the presence of what appeared to be a military planning map.

She glanced toward Aster.

”What’s happening?”

The red-haired destroyer smiled brightly.

”We’re trying to get Kade to come to the beach!”

Senko blinked.

”Oh.”

She looked toward the map.

Then the notebook.

Then the crowd.

”...Does he not want to?”

Aster hesitated.

”Well...”

Mina answered gently.

”He prefers to rest in his room.”

Senko considered that.

Then smiled.

”That sounds nice.”

Cassidy stared.

”Not you too.”

The transport girl looked startled.

”What?”

Aster sighed.

Then laughed.

”It’s fine.”

Senko set down the water.

”Perhaps you could ask him to visit for lunch.”

”We tried.”

”Ah.”

”And he took the lunch.”

Senko blinked.

For a moment, she simply stared.

Then she began laughing.

Cassidy slowly closed her eyes.

”Please don’t.”

But Senko couldn’t help herself.

The image of Horizon’s commander calmly accepting a food delivery while refusing to accompany the people who brought it was simply too funny.

Eventually, the transport girl wiped her eyes.

”Sorry.”

Cassidy sighed.

”It’s fine.”

Then she looked toward Aster.

Her expression became determined again.

”Right. Phase One.”

Aster nodded.

”Phase One.”

They were going to do this properly.

This time, the Commander wouldn’t know what hit him.

Metaphorically.

Alina had insisted on that clarification.

 Phase One: The World’s Most Overqualified Invitation

At ten fifteen, Kade Bher received a letter.

A real letter.

Not an electronic message.

Not a requisition.

Not a repair estimate.

A physical envelope made from ordinary stationery, delivered by a young sailor assigned to the residential district’s morning mail route.

Kade considered this suspicious.

He was not expecting correspondence.

He had deliberately arranged his leave so that routine documents remained at the administration office.

The duty watch knew how to contact him in an emergency.

And Mara had assured him that nothing particularly important required his attention that morning.

Which meant the envelope probably contained trouble.

He examined the front.

TO: COMMANDER KADE BHER

FROM: THE FRIENDS YOU KEEP REFUSING TO VISIT

He stared.

For several seconds, he remained completely motionless.

Then he sighed.

”Oh, good grief.”

He opened the envelope.

Inside was a carefully written invitation.

The paper had been decorated with small drawings of waves, beach umbrellas, and what appeared to be an extremely enthusiastic Fletcher-class destroyer.

Kade recognized the handwriting immediately.

Aster.

Of course.

The message read:

Dear Kade,

We know you’ve been working really hard, and we’re glad you’re finally getting some rest.

We also wanted to thank you for giving everyone Beach Week.

The beach is wonderful. People are having fun, and the weather is beautiful.

You don’t have to swim, play volleyball, supervise anything, make a speech, or do Commander stuff.

We just thought you might enjoy sitting with us for a little while.

We’ll save you a comfortable chair.

Love, Aster and everyone.

Kade read it once.

Then again.

His expression softened.

For a moment, he simply stood beside his desk, holding the paper.

There was something deeply disarming about the invitation.

No argument.

No exaggerated appeal to duty.

No attempt to explain that the morale of the entire naval station depended upon his personal participation in a recreational activity.

Just a group of people asking him to spend some time with them.

He looked toward the little drawings.

Then smiled faintly.

”Aster.”

He set the letter down.

For several seconds, he considered the idea.

A comfortable chair.

A cold drink.

Perhaps an hour.

Maybe even lunch.

It did sound pleasant.

Then he looked toward the clock.

Ten seventeen.

He had spent most of the morning reading.

There was nothing urgent waiting.

The station was functioning.

And the weather really was beautiful.

Kade considered all of that.

Then reached for a pen.

Beneath the invitation, he wrote:

Dear Aster and everyone,

Thank you very much for the invitation. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves.

I’m also delighted to hear that no one has yet declared war over a volleyball match.

I will consider visiting later.

Please continue having fun.

P.S. If Scarlett has declared war over a volleyball match, kindly inform her that naval artillery is not an acceptable method of resolving a disputed point.

— Kade

He folded the note.

Placed it inside the envelope.

Then handed it back to the waiting sailor.

”Please deliver that.”

The man nodded.

”Yes, Commander.”

Kade smiled pleasantly.

”And tell them I appreciate the invitation.”

”Of course, sir.”

The sailor departed.

Kade closed the door.

Then returned to his chair.

He was feeling rather pleased with himself.

The letter had been nice.

Genuinely nice.

He appreciated it.

But appreciating an invitation and accepting it were two different things.

And Kade Bher had become exceptionally good at distinguishing between them.

 The reply arrived at the beach eighteen minutes later.

Aster tore open the envelope.

She read the message.

Her expression brightened.

Then she stopped.

She read the final paragraph.

Then stared.

Cassidy leaned closer.

”What?”

Aster looked up.

”He said he’ll consider it.”

The table erupted.

”YES!”

”PROGRESS!”

”WE HAVE CONTACT!”

Réka raised both fists.

Zofia began cheering.

Riko grinned.

Scarlett folded her arms.

”Obviously.”

Aster looked toward the final line.

Then slowly turned toward Scarlett.

The battleship girl raised an eyebrow.

”What?”

Aster held up the note.

The girls leaned closer.

Cassidy read the postscript.

A dangerous silence followed.

Then Morgan began laughing.

Zofia nearly fell off her chair.

Riko pointed at Scarlett.

”HE KNOWS!”

Scarlett stared.

For a moment, the South Dakota-class girl’s expression became deeply offended.

Then she folded her arms.

”I did not declare war.”

The Allen M. Sumner girls looked toward her.

One raised an eyebrow.

Scarlett hesitated.

”...Officially.”

The beach erupted again.

Aster began laughing so hard that her injured side protested.

She immediately stopped.

Irena, who had been sitting nearby, looked up.

Aster straightened.

”...Seated enthusiasm.”

The doctor nodded approvingly.

”Good.”

When the laughter subsided, Alina examined the letter.

”He’s considering it.”

Aster nodded.

”Yes!”

Morgan smiled faintly.

”That’s more than he offered yesterday.”

Cassidy folded her arms.

”Phase One successful.”

Tali considered the statement.

Then tilted her head.

”Partially successful.”

The American looked toward her.

The synthetic technician continued.

”No confirmed acceptance has been obtained.”

Cassidy sighed.

”Please let me enjoy things.”

Tali smiled.

”Of course.”

Aster looked toward the residential district.

For a moment, she smiled warmly.

Then she turned back toward the table.

”All right.”

Cassidy leaned forward.

”Phase Two?”

Aster nodded.

”Phase Two.”

Somewhere in the distance, Kade sneezed.

He slowly lowered his book.

Then stared toward the window.

”...Again?”

 Phase Two: Psychological Warfare, but Make It Adorable

Cassidy’s next idea involved Yuna’s fairies.

This was not, in itself, a bad idea.

The trouble began when she tried to describe it.

”Imagine,” she said, leaning over the picnic table, ”a tiny airborne delegation carrying a miniature invitation.”

Yuna looked at her.

The Illustrious-class girl had been enjoying a drink beneath her parasol while her fairy crews dismantled their morning volleyball court.

She blinked.

”An airborne delegation?”

Cassidy nodded.

”Exactly.”

Yuna considered that.

”Using aircraft?”

”Possibly.”

Alina slowly turned.

”No.”

Cassidy sighed.

”Would you let me finish?”

The Russian woman folded her arms.

”No unauthorized flights over the residential district.”

”I wasn’t proposing an attack!”

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

”Then why did you say airborne insertion five minutes ago?”

Cassidy considered that.

Then shrugged.

”It sounded cooler.”

Yuna closed her eyes.

For a moment, she seemed to be considering whether her fairies had made a terrible mistake by becoming acquainted with the members of VESPER.

The tiny deck chief standing beside her lifted her clipboard.

She tapped it against the table.

Everyone turned.

The fairy looked toward Cassidy.

Then raised one finger.

”Flying operations require authorization.”

Cassidy blinked.

The deck chief continued.

”And our people are on leave.”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Yuna smiled.

”Quite right.”

The fairy nodded proudly.

Cassidy lowered her sunglasses.

”...You know, it’s hard to argue with someone who’s three inches tall and carries a clipboard.”

The deck chief folded her arms.

Morgan began laughing.

Aster grinned.

”Okay. No aircraft.”

Yuna looked toward the fairy crew.

Then her expression softened.

”But perhaps we could make something for him.”

Aster tilted her head.

”What?”

The carrier girl smiled.

”A small gift.”

That sounded much better.

 By noon, the fairies had organized a tiny arts-and-crafts project.

There was no other reasonable description for it.

They occupied one corner of their raised recreation table beneath a large umbrella, surrounded by small sheets of paper, colored pencils, lengths of thread, and fragments of craft material supplied by the station recreation staff.

The surviving aviation crews treated the project with the same seriousness ordinarily reserved for preparing aircraft for launch.

The deck chief supervised.

Naturally.

A pair of fairy mechanics worked together to produce a small folding card.

Several others cut tiny decorations.

One young fairy, apparently dissatisfied with the available colored paper, constructed a remarkably detailed representation of Horizon’s beach from sand and little pieces of green material.

Yuna watched the work with a smile.

For the first time since the Burnt Narrows, the deck chief’s clipboard contained absolutely nothing concerning aircraft losses.

That alone made the afternoon worthwhile.

Aster approached with Emi.

She stopped beside the table.

Then leaned forward.

”Oh!”

The little fairies looked up.

One waved.

Aster smiled.

”What are they making?”

Yuna held up the completed card.

It was small enough to fit comfortably in her palm.

On the front was a carefully drawn beach umbrella.

Beneath it sat a little figure holding a book.

The figure had brown hair.

Aster stared.

Then burst out laughing.

”KADE!”

Yuna smiled.

The drawing was remarkably recognizable.

The Commander sat in a chair beside the ocean, with a glass of juice on one side and a tiny stack of books on the other.

Several smiling figures occupied the sand nearby.

At the bottom, in very neat miniature lettering, the fairy deck chief had written:

YOU MAY READ YOUR BOOK HERE TOO.

Aster’s expression softened.

For a moment, she simply looked at the card.

Then she smiled warmly.

”That’s perfect.”

Yuna nodded.

”I thought he might like it.”

One of the fairies raised her hand.

Aster turned.

The tiny woman pointed toward the card.

Then toward herself.

”Delivery?”

Aster considered that.

Then shook her head gently.

”Only if you want to.”

The fairy smiled.

She nodded enthusiastically.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The deck chief examined the delivery plan.

Then approved it.

Apparently, even holidays required administrative procedure.

 Kade received the miniature invitation at twelve thirty-two.

He opened the door to find Yuna standing in the corridor, holding a small tray.

Aster and Emi remained several steps behind.

That detail was immediately suspicious.

Kade looked toward them.

Then toward Yuna.

”Good afternoon.”

The carrier girl smiled.

”Good afternoon, Commander.”

He raised an eyebrow.

”What have you brought me?”

Yuna extended the tray.

A tiny fairy stood upon it, holding a folded card with both hands.

She looked extremely determined.

Kade stared.

For several seconds, he didn’t speak.

Then the fairy straightened and saluted.

He returned the salute immediately.

”Good afternoon.”

The fairy nodded.

Then offered the card.

Kade accepted it with extraordinary care.

He opened it.

Looked at the illustration.

Then stopped.

A small smile appeared.

He read the message.

YOU MAY READ YOUR BOOK HERE TOO.

For a moment, he seemed genuinely touched.

Then he looked toward the tiny fairy.

”Did you make this?”

She nodded.

He studied the drawing again.

Then smiled.

”It’s wonderful.”

The fairy beamed.

Yuna’s expression softened.

Aster watched anxiously.

Kade looked toward the carrier girl.

”Please tell your crews I appreciate it.”

Yuna nodded.

”I will.”

The Commander considered the card again.

Then looked toward Aster.

The Fletcher-class girl straightened.

He smiled faintly.

”Another invitation?”

She nodded.

”Yes.”

He considered that.

Then sighed.

”Aster.”

She looked hopeful.

”Yes?”

”You’re persistent.”

She grinned.

”Thank you!”

”That wasn’t necessarily a compliment.”

”I know!”

Kade began laughing.

He looked toward the card again.

For a moment, he appeared to be considering the request.

Then he nodded slowly.

”I’ll think about it.”

Aster’s eyes widened.

”You said that before!”

”Indeed.”

”Are you actually thinking about it?”

”Very seriously.”

”How seriously?”

Kade regarded her.

Then smiled sweetly.

”With my entire brain.”

Emi burst out laughing.

Aster stared.

Yuna covered her mouth.

The tiny fairy looked between them.

Then raised one finger.

”Commander.”

Kade looked down.

”Yes?”

The fairy pointed toward the picture.

Then toward him.

”Good chair.”

He blinked.

She continued earnestly.

”Shade.”

He nodded.

”Very important.”

”Cold drinks.”

”Also important.”

”Books.”

His expression softened.

”Especially books.”

The fairy smiled.

Then saluted again.

Kade returned it.

For a moment, he considered the tiny woman standing before him.

Then he crouched slightly.

”Thank you.”

She nodded proudly.

He smiled.

”I’ll keep the card.”

Her face lit up.

Yuna looked delighted.

Aster watched with shining eyes.

Then Kade straightened.

”Now.”

The girls looked toward him.

He raised an eyebrow.

”Was there anything else?”

Aster opened her mouth.

Then stopped.

A pause.

Finally, she sighed.

”...No.”

The Commander smiled.

”Good.”

He looked toward Yuna.

”Enjoy your afternoon.”

She nodded.

”You too.”

Then he looked toward the fairy.

”Dismissed.”

The tiny woman saluted one last time.

Kade gently closed the door.

Silence.

Aster stared.

Emi slowly lowered her head.

Yuna looked toward the tray.

The fairy appeared very pleased.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Aster whispered:

”...He did it again.”

Emi began laughing.

Yuna smiled faintly.

The fairy deck chief, standing near the rear of the tray, consulted her clipboard.

Then announced:

”Delivery successful.”

Aster looked toward her.

A pause.

Then she burst out laughing too.

It was difficult to remain frustrated when the operation’s smallest participant was so thoroughly satisfied with her own performance.

Behind the door, Kade placed the tiny card beside his book.

He looked at it for several seconds.

Then smiled.

”Good chair.”

He chuckled.

Then returned to reading.

Phase Two had failed to remove him from his quarters.

It had, however, given him something rather nice to keep on his desk.

That counted for something.

 Meanwhile, the War Against Sand Continued

By early afternoon, the beach had become considerably livelier.

This was partly because the first duty rotation had ended, allowing another group of station personnel to join the festivities.

It was also because Riko and Scarlett had decided to settle their differences through a rematch.

The difference between the first match and the second was preparation.

Riko had spent twenty minutes stretching.

Scarlett had inspected the sand.

Morgan had established sensible rules.

The Kitakaze-class scorekeeper had reviewed the match boundaries.

And Cassidy had somehow acquired a small handbell.

Nobody knew where it came from.

The consequences were immediate.

”DING!”

Scarlett turned.

”Cassidy.”

The American smiled.

”Yes?”

”Why?”

Cassidy raised the bell.

”Atmosphere.”

Morgan sighed.

Zofia began laughing.

The two Allen M. Sumner girls stood on the opposite side of the net, looking thoroughly amused.

Emi bounced lightly on her toes.

Réka adjusted the band holding back her hair.

Riko regarded the opposing team.

Her expression became solemn.

”Today...”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow.

The Yamato-class girl pointed across the court.

”...we restore battleship honor!”

One of the destroyers looked toward her teammate.

Then back at Riko.

”Did somebody damage it?”

Scarlett slowly closed her eyes.

The crowd erupted.

Riko turned scarlet.

”THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

Cassidy rang the bell.

”DING!”

Morgan covered her face.

The match began.

This time, Riko managed to remain on her feet.

For an entire five minutes.

A remarkable achievement.

Her first serve was powerful and accurate.

The opposing team returned it.

Scarlett moved forward.

Morgan shouted an instruction.

Riko jumped.

And for one glorious moment, the Yamato-class girl demonstrated that she had actually learned something from the previous day’s disaster.

She struck the ball cleanly.

It crossed the net.

The Sumner-class girl lunged.

Missed.

The ball landed.

Silence.

Then Riko raised both arms.

”YES!”

Scarlett grinned.

”About time!”

Aster cheered from her chair.

”RIKO!”

June raised one hand.

”GOOD SHOT!”

Nadya, seated beneath a nearby umbrella, considered the performance.

Then nodded approvingly.

”Not bad.”

Adelheid looked toward her.

”She’s improving.”

Marina smiled gently.

”She is.”

Riko heard them.

Her expression brightened.

Then Scarlett leaned closer.

”Try doing it again.”

The Yamato-class girl turned.

”YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE!”

Scarlett smiled.

”Frequently.”

From the shaded seating area, Aster suddenly became very still.

She looked toward Scarlett.

Then toward the residential district.

Then back.

”...Oh, no.”

Emi glanced over.

”What?”

Aster narrowed her eyes.

”She’s starting to sound like Kade.”

Mina closed her book.

For a moment, she considered the observation.

Then smiled.

”That’s concerning.”

Aster nodded solemnly.

”Very.”

The game continued.

And for the next forty minutes, the beach filled with cheers, groans, laughter, and increasingly outrageous accusations concerning the natural athletic advantages of different ship classes.

None of the accusations were particularly convincing.

All of them were entertaining.

 A short distance away, Lucía Alvarez sat beneath a wide umbrella with Mateo’s notebook open across her knees.

The fifteen-year-old had brought a pencil.

A small ruler.

And the stubborn expression of someone who had decided to understand a diagram regardless of how unpleasant the process became.

Beside her sat one of Breakwater’s off-duty electricians.

He had volunteered to explain several of the basic symbols in Mateo’s notes.

Nothing dangerous.

Nothing connected to live machinery.

Just drawings.

He pointed toward a marking.

”This is a switch.”

Lucía nodded.

”Okay.”

”And this symbol represents a relay.”

She frowned.

”Why does it look like that?”

The sailor considered the question.

Then smiled.

”Because electrical engineers enjoy making life difficult.”

Lucía stared.

Then began laughing.

”Mateo used to say that!”

The man smiled.

”Yeah. He did.”

For a moment, her expression softened.

She looked toward the notebook.

Then asked:

”Was he really good at this?”

The sailor nodded.

”Very.”

Lucía considered that.

Then looked toward the drawing again.

”I want to be good too.”

The man smiled.

”Then start with the basics.”

She sighed.

”Everybody keeps saying that.”

He chuckled.

”There’s a reason.”

Lucía considered arguing.

Then thought of Mateo.

Slow down. Understand what you’re looking at first.

She lowered her pencil.

”Okay.”

For a while, the two worked quietly.

Nearby, several of Breakwater’s sailors were playing cards.

Others watched the volleyball match.

Captain Mercer sat with Adrian Cole beneath another shade structure, discussing absolutely nothing involving the battleship’s engineering schedule.

At least, that was the intention.

After seven minutes, Cole mentioned an electrical repair.

Mercer stared.

Then pointed toward the beach.

”Adrian.”

The executive officer blinked.

”Yes?”

”Sand.”

Cole looked down.

”Sir?”

”We’re sitting on a beach.”

”Yes.”

”During recreational leave.”

”Yes.”

Mercer folded his arms.

”Then why are you talking about switchboards?”

Cole considered that.

Then slowly smiled.

”Habit.”

The captain nodded.

”Bad habit.”

”Agreed.”

They sat quietly for another thirty seconds.

Then Mercer looked toward Breakwater.

”...Though I do wonder whether the new breakers passed inspection.”

Cole slowly turned.

The captain froze.

A pause.

Then the executive officer began laughing.

Mercer closed his eyes.

”Not one word.”

Cole grinned.

”Of course not, Captain.”

A short distance away, Lucía heard them.

She looked up.

Saw the two officers laughing.

Then smiled faintly.

For a moment, she imagined Mateo sitting among them, complaining about the same electrical systems.

The thought hurt.

It always would.

But it no longer made the entire world seem unbearably empty.

She returned to the notebook.

Then carefully drew the relay symbol again.

 Near the water, Cassidy’s sandcastle had evolved into something deeply concerning.

It was no longer a sandcastle.

It was a fortified coastal installation.

There were walls.

Trenches.

An elaborate drainage system.

Several observation towers.

And a small mound that Réka insisted represented a naval artillery emplacement.

Darya was supervising the construction.

Zofia had begun decorating the walls with shells.

Johanna was providing occasional assistance.

Morgan stood nearby, hands on her hips.

She stared.

Then slowly turned toward Alina.

”How did this happen?”

The Russian woman examined the structure.

For a moment, she remained quiet.

Then answered:

”Réka.”

Morgan nodded.

”Fair.”

The Hungarian looked up.

”What?”

Alina pointed toward the largest wall.

”Is that structurally necessary?”

Réka nodded.

”Absolutely.”

”And the second wall?”

”Redundancy.”

”And the moat?”

”Drainage.”

Morgan looked toward the ocean.

Then back.

”Does it need an artillery position?”

Réka hesitated.

A pause.

Then she smiled.

”Morale.”

Cassidy raised both hands.

”EXACTLY!”

Morgan slowly covered her face.

From beneath a nearby umbrella, Mira watched the proceedings.

Then leaned toward Tali.

”Should I be concerned?”

The synthetic technician considered the sandcastle.

Then shook her head.

”No active weapons. No restricted equipment. No safety violations.”

Mira nodded.

”Good.”

Tali tilted her head.

”Although the design would benefit from better foundation support.”

Mira slowly turned.

”Tali.”

The technician looked up.

”Yes?”

”Please don’t.”

Tali considered that.

Then smiled faintly.

”Understood.”

For nearly two hours, the girls continued working.

They laughed.

Argued.

Improvised.

Redistributed sand.

Discovered that a perfectly constructed wall could collapse because someone stepped too close to the foundation.

Then rebuilt it.

Cassidy declared the final result a masterpiece.

Zofia took a photograph.

Réka announced that it was the finest defensive installation ever constructed without authorization.

Morgan pointed out that it would disappear at the next high tide.

Réka considered that.

Then shrugged.

”Historical inevitability.”

Everyone began laughing.

And in the middle of that ridiculous discussion, Aster found herself thinking that Beach Week was doing exactly what Kade had hoped it would.

People were enjoying themselves.

Not performing.

Not pretending that the Blackwake didn’t exist.

Simply living for a little while without the war occupying every conversation.

She looked toward the sea.

Then toward the distant residential district.

Her smile softened.

She still wished the Commander were here to see it.

But at least he had given everyone the chance.

 Phase Three: A Poorly Conceived Naval Landing Operation

The incident began at sixteen twenty-one.

It was not planned by Aster.

This detail would become extremely important.

Nor was it planned by Alina, Mira, Morgan, Yuna, Hana, or any of the people responsible for keeping Operation: Extract Commander within the boundaries of a harmless social invitation.

In fact, when the idea first appeared, several of those people immediately objected.

The trouble was that the idea had appeared in the minds of three off-duty sailors from Breakwater.

All three were former players.

All three were adults.

All three had survived the Crisis, the supply convoy, and the Battle of the Burnt Narrows.

And all three had apparently concluded that commanding officers were considerably easier to manage if somebody simply picked them up.

The conversation began beneath a shade structure near the footpath connecting the residential district to the beach.

The men had finished playing cards.

Two had gone for another drink.

The third was watching the girls’ increasingly unsuccessful attempts to persuade Kade to join them.

He considered the situation.

Then smiled.

”You know what the problem is?”

One of his companions looked up.

”What?”

”They keep asking.”

The other sailor raised an eyebrow.

”And?”

The first man shrugged.

”He’s short.”

A pause.

”Really short.”

His companion stared.

”That’s your observation?”

The sailor nodded.

”I’m saying we could probably carry him.”

Silence.

Then the second man began laughing.

The third slowly lowered his drink.

”You can’t be serious.”

The first man grinned.

”Come on. He’s, what, five-three?”

”About that.”

”How much can he weigh?”

The second sailor considered that.

Then smiled.

”Not as much as the two of us.”

The third stared between them.

For several seconds, he appeared to be deciding whether to intervene.

Then he sighed.

”You’re idiots.”

The first sailor shrugged.

”Probably.”

He looked toward the residential path.

”But imagine his face.”

The second man grinned.

”Oh, he’d be furious.”

”Exactly!”

A voice sounded behind them.

”Absolutely not.”

The three turned.

Alina Morozova stood beside the shade structure with her arms folded.

Morgan Reyes was next to her.

Both had heard enough.

The first sailor blinked.

”Ma’am?”

Alina looked directly at him.

”Do not put your hands on the Commander.”

The man raised both hands.

”We’re joking.”

”Good.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

”Because trying to physically carry somebody who has already refused an invitation is a terrible idea.”

The second sailor smiled awkwardly.

”Yeah. Of course.”

Alina studied them for another moment.

Then nodded.

”Excellent.”

She turned away.

Morgan followed.

The three sailors watched them go.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then the first man muttered:

”...Still think we could.”

The third sailor slowly closed his eyes.

”Oh, you’re going to regret that.”

 Kade, meanwhile, had finally left his room.

Not because the operation had succeeded.

Not because he’d surrendered.

And certainly not because anyone had persuaded him that reading in a comfortable chair was an unacceptable use of recreational leave.

He had simply decided to go for a walk.

The afternoon had been pleasant.

The station was quiet.

He had finished his detective novel.

And after several hours indoors, he felt like stretching his legs.

A reasonable decision.

Entirely ordinary.

He changed into a light shirt, comfortable shorts, and sandals, then stepped outside with a bottle of water in one hand.

The warm tropical air greeted him.

He breathed deeply.

For a moment, he stood beneath the shade of the residential building’s overhang, listening.

Distant laughter.

Waves breaking against the shore.

A vehicle moving somewhere near the maintenance district.

The rhythmic calls of people playing volleyball.

It sounded peaceful.

Kade smiled faintly.

He had done the right thing.

Beach Week was working.

The station was operating normally, the nonessential personnel were resting, and nobody had called him about an emergency.

He looked toward the sandy path leading down to the recreation area.

Then considered taking a short walk along the edge of the beach.

Just the edge.

A little fresh air.

Perhaps a look at the festivities from a comfortable distance.

Then back to his room.

Simple.

He started walking.

The path wound between the last residential buildings and a line of low palms, eventually opening onto a sandy stretch overlooking the southern recreational shoreline.

There were several benches.

A small water station.

A few picnic tables.

And a gently sloping sandbank leading toward the main beach.

It was quiet.

At least compared with the volleyball courts.

Kade found that appealing.

He walked beneath the palms, enjoying the breeze.

Then noticed three men standing near the edge of the path.

Breakwater sailors.

He recognized their uniforms, though they were dressed for shore leave rather than duty.

One was broad-shouldered and considerably taller than Kade.

Another was leaner, with the long-limbed build of someone who had spent too much of his life playing recreational sports.

The third stood slightly behind them.

Kade nodded.

”Afternoon, gentlemen.”

The men straightened.

”Commander!”

He smiled faintly.

”Enjoying your leave?”

The first sailor grinned.

”Very much, sir.”

”Good.”

Kade continued walking.

Then the second man stepped forward.

”Commander?”

He stopped.

”Yes?”

The sailor smiled.

”Heading to the beach?”

”Taking a walk.”

”Excellent!”

Kade raised an eyebrow.

The man leaned forward.

”Then perhaps you’d like to join the others.”

Kade considered that.

Then shook his head.

”Not particularly.”

The sailor looked toward his companion.

The first man grinned.

Kade noticed.

His expression became suspicious.

”...What?”

The taller sailor raised both hands.

”Nothing, sir.”

Kade looked between them.

Then sighed.

”Oh, good.”

He folded his arms.

”Another delegation.”

The second man laughed.

”We just thought you might enjoy the beach.”

”How thoughtful.”

”Everybody’s having a good time.”

”Wonderful.”

”You’re missing out.”

”Apparently.”

The taller sailor grinned.

Then made an extraordinarily poor decision.

”Well, Commander, maybe we should just carry you down there.”

Kade became still.

For a moment, he stared at the man.

Then slowly raised an eyebrow.

”Excuse me?”

The sailor smiled.

”Just kidding, sir.”

Kade looked toward his companion.

The second man was also smiling.

The third sailor, standing behind them, had abruptly lost his enthusiasm.

Kade considered that.

Then spoke pleasantly.

”Gentlemen.”

They straightened.

”Yes, sir?”

”Don’t.”

The word was quiet.

Simple.

Perfectly clear.

The taller sailor hesitated.

Then laughed awkwardly.

”Of course, sir.”

Kade nodded.

”Excellent.”

He turned to continue walking.

And that should have been the end of it.

It would have been a perfectly good ending.

Three men exchanging a foolish joke.

A commanding officer establishing a boundary.

Everyone returning to their recreation.

Unfortunately, the first sailor was about to discover that there were some ideas so bad they became considerably worse the moment someone attempted to carry them out.

He moved.

Not aggressively, in his own mind.

Not with any intention of hurting the Commander.

He was simply going to scoop the smaller man up and carry him toward the beach while everyone laughed.

It would be funny.

Harmless.

A good story.

That was what he believed.

Kade heard the movement behind him.

His expression did not change.

The man reached toward his shoulders.

And then—

The world became very strange.

 Aster heard the shout from the nearby volleyball court.

”WAIT!”

She turned.

Cassidy looked up.

Morgan stopped walking.

The warning came from the third Breakwater sailor, who was now staring in horror at his companions.

Too late.

The tall sailor had already committed his weight forward.

Kade shifted.

That was all the spectators saw at first.

A small movement.

A turn.

One step that carried him out of the sailor’s intended line.

Then Kade’s hand caught the man’s reaching arm, redirecting the committed motion rather than trying to resist it.

The sailor’s own forward momentum did the rest.

His balance vanished.

His eyes widened.

”WHOA—!”

A heartbeat later, he went over.

Not into the path.

Not onto concrete.

Kade guided the fall toward the soft sand beside the walkway, where the man landed on his back with an enormous, undignified—

WHUMPF!

Sand erupted around him.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

The sailor lay sprawled beneath the palms.

Staring toward the sky.

Completely astonished.

Kade stood beside him.

Still holding his bottle of water.

He had not spilled a drop.

The Commander looked down.

Then smiled faintly.

”I did say don’t.”

Silence.

The second sailor stared.

For several seconds, his brain appeared to struggle with what had happened.

Then he made another mistake.

A considerably worse mistake.

”Oh, come on!”

He lunged.

Perhaps he intended to help his companion.

Perhaps he wanted to prove that a short commander couldn’t possibly do that to two grown men.

Perhaps his competitive instincts had simply overtaken whatever portion of his mind normally handled consequences.

It didn’t matter.

He reached.

Kade turned toward him.

The sailor was taller.

Heavier.

And moving quickly.

But he was also making his intention extraordinarily obvious.

Kade stepped aside.

A smooth pivot.

A controlled shift of weight.

The sailor tried to adjust.

Too late.

Kade redirected the reaching arm, turned with the movement, and took away the balance the man had been depending on.

For an instant, the sailor’s feet seemed uncertain whether they belonged on the ground.

Then he went sideways.

FWUMP!

Straight into the sand.

A small cloud rose around him.

His sandal flew off.

It landed beside a palm tree.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then Réka whispered:

”...Oh.”

Zofia stared.

Cassidy slowly lowered her sunglasses.

Morgan’s mouth fell open.

Riko stopped in the middle of a sentence.

Scarlett turned.

The two Allen M. Sumner girls looked toward the sandbank.

Aster stared.

And Kade Bher, eighteen years old, five feet three inches tall, stood between two grown sailors who had just been deposited into the beach like badly packed luggage.

He looked entirely untroubled.

Then he turned toward the third man.

The remaining sailor immediately raised both hands.

”I’M NOT TOUCHING YOU, SIR!”

Kade regarded him.

A moment passed.

Then he nodded.

”Excellent decision.”

From somewhere behind the volleyball court came a strangled sound.

Cassidy.

Trying not to laugh.

Failing spectacularly.

The first sailor slowly sat upright.

Sand slid from his hair.

He stared at the Commander.

Then toward his companion.

The second man remained on his back, blinking at the sky.

Aster opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Then whispered:

”...What?”

Kade looked toward her.

For a moment, his expression became faintly amused.

Then he looked back at the sailors.

”Gentlemen.”

The two men scrambled upright.

”Sir!”

Kade folded his arms.

”Did I, or did I not, tell you not to touch me?”

The taller sailor swallowed.

”You did, sir.”

”And did you attempt to grab me anyway?”

”...Yes, sir.”

Kade nodded.

”Good. We’re all working with the same facts.”

The second sailor looked toward his missing sandal.

Then back.

”Commander, I—”

Kade raised one finger.

The man stopped.

His expression became serious.

For the first time since the incident began, the Commander was no longer smiling.

”You do not put your hands on someone after they’ve told you not to.”

The sailors straightened.

”Yes, sir.”

”That applies whether the person is a commanding officer, another sailor, or somebody you met five minutes ago.”

The first man lowered his eyes.

”Understood.”

Kade regarded them for another moment.

Then sighed.

”And if you’re going to do something foolish, please don’t do it while you’re on leave. It creates paperwork.”

For half a second, silence held.

Then somebody laughed.

A short, involuntary laugh.

Scarlett.

She immediately covered her mouth.

Kade looked toward her.

The South Dakota-class girl straightened.

”...Sorry.”

His expression softened slightly.

Then he looked back toward the two sailors.

”Anyone injured?”

The first man shook his head.

”No, sir.”

The second cautiously moved his arms and shoulders.

”No, sir. Just...”

He looked toward the sand.

Then sighed.

”...My pride.”

Kade considered that.

Then nodded solemnly.

”Tragic casualty.”

Cassidy broke.

There was no other word for it.

She bent forward and began laughing so hard that Morgan had to catch her by the shoulder.

Zofia was nearly crying.

Réka slowly lowered herself into a chair.

Riko stared at the Commander with shining eyes.

Scarlett folded her arms.

Then began laughing too.

Aster sat perfectly still.

Her mouth was open.

Her eyes enormous.

She looked as though somebody had just informed her that a small harbor tug had successfully wrestled a battleship.

Then she slowly turned toward Emi.

”...Did you see that?”

The Benson-class girl nodded.

Very slowly.

”Yes.”

Mina stared toward the sand.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then she whispered:

”He’s really fast.”

June, watching from her chair, raised an eyebrow.

Calla looked deeply impressed.

Elsa’s expression changed.

The heavy cruiser had seen enough combat to recognize controlled movement when she saw it.

That had not been a panicked reaction.

Nor had it been raw strength.

Kade had barely used any force that wasn’t already being supplied by the men trying to grab him.

His timing had been precise.

His balance extraordinary.

And he’d directed both falls toward soft ground without letting either sailor strike his head.

Elsa narrowed her eyes slightly.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Nearby, Alina had also become quiet.

Morgan finally straightened.

She looked toward the Commander.

Then toward the two sailors.

Then back.

”...Well.”

Cassidy wiped her eyes.

”OH, THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!”

Alina turned.

”Cassidy.”

The American raised both hands.

”I KNOW. I KNOW. BAD IDEA.”

She pointed toward the sandbank.

”BUT DID YOU SEE THEM GO?!”

Zofia began laughing again.

Kade slowly closed his eyes.

For a moment, he appeared to regret ever leaving his room.

Then he looked toward the nearest shade structure.

And saw Captain Daniel Mercer approaching.

Oh.

Wonderful.

Now there would definitely be paperwork.

 The Captain Discovers His Crew Has Been Defeated by a Five-Foot-Three Commander

Daniel Mercer had seen some extraordinary things since the Crisis.

He had watched an actual battleship emerge from a simulated world.

He had learned to command hundreds of former players aboard a real warship.

He had witnessed Keelborn girls carrying enough naval artillery to make an ordinary human profoundly uncomfortable.

He had survived a Blackwake attack.

He had seen Riko’s Yamato-class guns fire.

And he had spent considerable time listening to engineers explain why several apparently unrelated mechanical failures were actually parts of the same extremely expensive problem.

None of that had prepared him for the sight of two members of his crew sitting in the sand while Commander Kade Bher stood over them holding a water bottle.

Mercer stopped beside the footpath.

Adrian Cole arrived a moment later.

The executive officer examined the scene.

Then slowly looked toward his captain.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Finally, Mercer sighed.

”...What happened?”

Kade turned.

”Captain.”

Mercer straightened.

”Commander.”

The younger man glanced toward the two sailors.

Then back.

”An unfortunate disagreement involving personal space.”

Cole raised an eyebrow.

Mercer looked toward his men.

Both had finally managed to stand.

One was still brushing sand from his hair.

The other had retrieved his missing sandal.

The captain folded his arms.

”Gentlemen.”

They straightened immediately.

”Sir!”

Mercer considered them.

Then looked toward Kade.

”Did they...”

He stopped.

For a moment, his expression became deeply suspicious.

”...Try to grab you?”

Kade smiled faintly.

”Yes.”

The captain closed his eyes.

Cole slowly covered his mouth.

Mercer took a long breath.

Then turned toward his sailors.

”Why?”

The taller man swallowed.

For a moment, he seemed unable to answer.

Then he looked toward the Commander.

Then the sand.

Then his captain.

Finally, he whispered:

”We thought we could carry him to the beach, sir.”

Silence.

A very long silence.

Mercer stared.

Cole lowered his hand.

For several seconds, the executive officer appeared to be losing a battle against his own amusement.

The captain slowly raised one hand.

Pressed it against his forehead.

Then sighed.

”Oh, for God’s sake.”

Cassidy made a strangled sound behind them.

Morgan turned.

”Don’t.”

The American nodded rapidly.

Her shoulders were shaking.

Mercer looked toward the sailors again.

”Did he agree to that?”

”No, sir.”

”Did he tell you not to?”

”...Yes, sir.”

The captain closed his eyes.

Aster stopped smiling.

The atmosphere shifted slightly.

Mercer wasn’t shouting.

He didn’t need to.

His voice had become the calm, deeply disappointed voice of a commanding officer who had discovered that several members of his crew had somehow forgotten the most basic principles of behaving like sensible adults.

”Gentlemen.”

The sailors straightened.

”You survived a battle against the Blackwake.”

”Yes, sir.”

”You survived emergency damage control aboard a damaged battleship.”

”Yes, sir.”

”You’ve received repeated instructions concerning safe conduct during shore leave.”

”Yes, sir.”

The captain looked between them.

”And you decided the appropriate recreational activity was attempting to abduct your station commander?”

The first sailor winced.

”...No, sir.”

Mercer raised an eyebrow.

”That is precisely what you attempted.”

The man lowered his eyes.

”Yes, sir.”

The captain looked toward the second sailor.

”And you?”

The man swallowed.

”I thought I could help.”

Cole turned away.

Very quickly.

His shoulders shook once.

Mercer stared.

Then slowly looked toward the sky.

For a moment, he appeared to be asking the universe for patience.

None arrived.

He turned back.

”You will both apologize to the Commander.”

The sailors straightened.

”Yes, sir!”

They turned toward Kade.

The taller man lowered his head.

”Commander, I’m sorry.”

The second followed.

”Me too, sir. It was stupid.”

Kade regarded them.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he nodded.

”Apology accepted.”

Both men looked relieved.

He raised one finger.

”Don’t do it again.”

”Never, sir!”

The Commander considered that.

Then smiled faintly.

”Good.”

Mercer stepped forward.

”Commander, I’ll handle the conduct report and any necessary corrective action.”

Kade nodded.

”Thank you.”

The captain looked toward the sailors.

”Return to the ship’s shore-party assembly point. Your division officer will speak with you before you resume recreational activities.”

Both men saluted.

”Yes, Captain!”

They turned.

Then hurried away.

Very carefully.

Neither looked remotely interested in attempting another physical extraction.

The third sailor followed, still shaking his head.

After they disappeared down the path, Mercer looked toward Kade.

For a moment, he seemed deeply embarrassed.

”I’m sorry, Commander.”

Kade shrugged.

”No lasting harm.”

Cole finally managed to regain control of his expression.

He cleared his throat.

Then looked toward the sand.

”Sir.”

Kade turned.

”Yes?”

”May I ask something?”

”Go ahead.”

The executive officer hesitated.

Then glanced toward the two very distinct impressions in the sand.

”...How?”

Kade considered that.

Aster leaned closer.

Scarlett folded her arms.

Riko’s eyes widened.

Cassidy stopped laughing.

Even Alina appeared interested.

The Commander looked around.

For a moment, he recognized that nearly everyone was now watching him.

Wonderful.

He considered several possible responses.

The truth was complicated.

Very complicated.

It belonged to experiences he had no intention of discussing with anyone aboard Horizon.

There were techniques his body remembered from conflicts that had nothing to do with naval warfare.

Lessons learned in circumstances that would sound impossible to anyone standing on this beach.

He’d once needed to survive opponents considerably larger and more dangerous than two overenthusiastic sailors.

Compared with those experiences, redirecting an untrained man’s momentum into a soft sandbank was almost embarrassingly simple.

But none of that was something he could explain.

Not here.

Not now.

Not to people who had no reason to suspect anything unusual about his past.

So Kade smiled.

And said:

”Gravity.”

Silence.

Then Mercer blinked.

”...Gravity?”

The Commander nodded.

”Wonderful invention.”

Cole stared.

Kade continued.

”Very reliable. Works on everybody.”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Cassidy burst out laughing.

Mercer slowly closed his eyes.

Cole made a choking sound.

Scarlett covered her mouth.

Riko stared at the Commander as though he’d personally rewritten the laws of physics.

Aster finally found her voice.

”KADE!”

He turned.

”Yes?”

”YOU THREW THEM!”

The Commander considered that.

Then shrugged.

”They were very enthusiastic about falling.”

The Fletcher-class girl stared.

Cassidy bent forward again.

Zofia was almost on her knees.

Réka looked toward Darya.

The Russian woman nodded solemnly.

”Momentum.”

Tali, standing nearby, tilted her head.

”Technically, yes.”

Mira examined the two impressions in the sand.

Her expression was thoughtful.

Then she looked toward Kade.

”You’ve trained before.”

The Commander met her eyes.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then he smiled faintly.

”Enough to know that grabbing strangers is a bad idea.”

Mira considered that.

Then nodded.

It was not an answer.

She knew that.

But it was also not her place to interrogate the Commander about a past he clearly didn’t wish to discuss.

She looked toward Alina.

”Ensure your group understands the lesson.”

The Russian woman nodded.

”Already done.”

Cassidy slowly raised one hand.

Mira looked toward her.

”Boone.”

The American swallowed her laughter.

”Yes?”

”No physical extraction.”

Cassidy nodded rapidly.

”Absolutely.”

”Of anyone.”

”Understood.”

A pause.

Then Cassidy whispered:

”...Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Morgan folded her arms.

”Good.”

Kade looked toward the group.

His expression became pleasant again.

”Excellent.”

He glanced toward the beach.

Then toward the residential district.

”Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was taking a walk.”

Aster straightened.

”Oh!”

He turned.

The Fletcher-class girl smiled brightly.

”Since you’re already outside—”

Kade raised one finger.

”No.”

She stopped.

Cassidy made another strangled sound.

The Commander smiled sweetly.

”Aster.”

She sighed.

”Yes?”

”I love your enthusiasm.”

Her expression brightened.

”Really?”

”Yes.”

Then he continued.

”But I’m beginning to think it should be classified as a controlled substance.”

The beach erupted.

Aster stared.

Then began laughing herself.

Kade smiled.

Turned.

And continued along the footpath.

Perfectly calm.

Water bottle in hand.

Leaving behind two distinct impressions in the sand, a thoroughly astonished group of Keelborn, and a battleship captain who would not be forgetting the incident anytime soon.

 Scarlett watched him go.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

Then she slowly turned toward Riko.

”...Did you see that?”

Riko nodded.

Very slowly.

”He threw two sailors.”

Scarlett folded her arms.

”Without trying.”

The Yamato-class girl’s eyes shone.

”That was AWESOME!”

Adelheid, who had joined the gathering after hearing the commotion, examined the sand.

For a moment, she remained quiet.

Then she nodded thoughtfully.

”Excellent balance.”

Nadya folded her arms.

”Very good timing.”

Marina looked toward the footpath.

Then smiled gently.

”He’s full of surprises.”

Elsa regarded the place where Kade had stood.

For several seconds, she seemed to be thinking.

Then June raised one hand.

”Can I say something?”

Calla turned.

”Yes?”

The recovering Atlanta-class girl smiled.

”I think we’ve underestimated him.”

Aster slowly looked toward her.

Then nodded.

”...A little.”

Mina laughed softly.

Emi covered her mouth.

Cassidy, meanwhile, had arrived at a conclusion.

A very important conclusion.

She raised one finger.

”Ladies.”

Alina closed her eyes.

”No.”

Cassidy blinked.

”I haven’t even said anything!”

Morgan folded her arms.

”You were about to suggest a rematch.”

The American looked deeply offended.

A pause.

Then she sighed.

”...Not anymore.”

Zofia burst out laughing.

For the next several minutes, the entire beach talked about what had happened.

The story grew.

Naturally.

By the time it reached the barbecue station, somebody claimed the Commander had thrown three sailors simultaneously.

By the time it reached the volleyball court, the number had become four.

And when Eliza heard about it, she looked toward Dain and asked whether they should reinforce the residential footpath.

The engineer considered that.

Then answered:

”Probably not necessary.”

Corwin raised an eyebrow.

”Unless somebody decides to make a habit of this.”

Eliza smiled.

”Then they’d better order more sand.”

Dain began laughing.

Mara Fenwick, who had arrived just in time to hear the explanation, slowly lowered her drink.

For a moment, she stared toward the residential district.

Then she sighed.

”Oh, Kade.”

She shook her head.

But she was smiling.

 Captain Mercer remained near the path a little longer.

Adrian Cole stood beside him.

For several moments, they watched the repair crews moving through the harbor in the distance.

Then Cole cleared his throat.

”Sir.”

Mercer glanced over.

”Yes?”

”That was remarkable.”

The captain nodded.

”Yes.”

Cole considered the sand.

Then looked toward the footpath.

”Where do you suppose he learned that?”

Mercer thought about the question.

The Commander was eighteen.

Young.

In some ways, almost painfully young.

He was shorter than most of the officers aboard Breakwater and possessed a talent for sarcasm that occasionally made him seem far older than his years.

But he’d taken command of Horizon under extraordinary circumstances.

He’d handled the station’s supply crisis, combat readiness problems, and losses with considerably more maturity than Mercer would have expected from someone his age.

Now he’d demonstrated another skill nobody had anticipated.

The captain considered that.

Then shrugged.

”I don’t know.”

Cole nodded.

”Fair.”

Mercer looked toward the beach.

Then added:

”But I think we should be very grateful he prefers paperwork to wrestling.”

The executive officer stared.

Then began laughing.

The captain smiled faintly.

For a few seconds, he joined him.

Then he sighed.

”Come on.”

Cole raised an eyebrow.

”Where?”

”Back to the barbecue.”

”Sir?”

Mercer smiled.

”I want to enjoy the rest of my leave before somebody else decides to do something stupid.”

Cole considered that.

Then nodded.

”Excellent plan.”

They returned toward the beach.

Behind them, the sandbank remained disturbed.

A quiet monument to the dangers of underestimating a sarcastic little Commander.

 The Commander Was Not Amused

Well.

Not entirely.

Kade returned to his quarters twenty minutes later and closed the door behind him.

He set his water bottle on the desk.

Then stood there.

For a moment, he stared toward the window.

Outside, the palms moved gently in the breeze.

The beach sounded cheerful.

There was laughter.

Music from the recreation area.

And, somewhere in the distance, another volleyball argument.

Kade sighed.

Then rubbed his forehead.

”Unbelievable.”

He looked toward the tiny card made by Yuna’s fairies.

The little drawing showed him sitting comfortably beside the ocean.

A book in his hands.

A cold drink nearby.

Happy people around him.

He studied it.

Then slowly looked toward the door.

For a moment, his expression softened.

He knew the girls meant well.

Most of them.

Aster was trying to include him.

Cassidy was trying to make everyone laugh.

Yuna had offered a thoughtful little gift.

Hana wanted him to spend time away from the office.

And somewhere in the middle of all that enthusiasm, three sailors had apparently decided the entire problem could be solved by picking him up like a piece of luggage.

That part had been irritating.

Deeply irritating.

He’d told them not to.

They’d tried anyway.

He didn’t regret stopping them.

But he did regret how quickly a pleasant walk had become a public spectacle.

Kade looked toward his book.

Then toward the chair.

For a moment, he considered returning to it.

It was still comfortable.

The fan was still running.

The room remained quiet.

And nobody inside it was attempting to grab him.

An excellent arrangement.

He sat.

Opened the book.

Then stopped.

He looked toward the fairy card again.

YOU MAY READ YOUR BOOK HERE TOO.

For several seconds, he remained still.

Then a small smile appeared.

”...Well.”

He leaned back.

The girls were having fun.

That was what he’d wanted.

And perhaps, just perhaps, it wouldn’t be the end of the world to spend a little time watching.

Not because he’d been defeated.

Not because the operation had succeeded.

Certainly not because a group of naval personnel had demonstrated that they could turn an ordinary social invitation into a minor military incident.

Because he wanted to.

Kade considered that.

Then nodded slowly.

”Maybe tomorrow.”

He placed the book on his lap.

A moment later, he frowned.

”...Assuming nobody tries to kidnap me.”

An important qualification.

Very important.

 The Beach Takes a Breather

The afternoon continued.

That was one of the nicest things about it.

Despite the commotion, the beach did not collapse into chaos.

The volleyball tournament resumed.

The barbecue remained open.

The water-safety personnel continued supervising the approved swimming area.

And the fairies had begun building a second miniature sandcastle after the first proved structurally inadequate.

Riko and Scarlett returned to their argument.

This time, it concerned serving technique.

Scarlett insisted that Riko was relying too much on enthusiasm.

Riko replied that enthusiasm was a perfectly respectable substitute for technical perfection.

Adelheid overheard this.

She slowly turned.

”Riko.”

The Yamato-class girl froze.

”...Yes?”

The Bayern-class battleship folded her arms.

”Enthusiasm does not replace technique.”

Riko looked toward Scarlett.

Scarlett smiled sweetly.

”Told you.”

Riko groaned.

Nadya began laughing.

Marina shook her head.

Then the older dreadnought girl glanced toward the court and smiled.

”Perhaps a little less arguing and a little more practicing?”

Riko straightened.

”Yes!”

Scarlett grinned.

”Finally.”

The match resumed.

And within five minutes, Riko had managed to strike the ball into the net.

Scarlett stared.

Then slowly sighed.

”Progress.”

Riko looked offended.

”IT WAS A GOOD HIT!”

”Into the net.”

”THAT’S NOT THE POINT!”

The crowd erupted again.

 Aster sat beneath her umbrella with Emi, Mina, and June.

She had been unusually quiet for several minutes.

That was enough to make Emi suspicious.

The Benson-class girl glanced toward her.

”Aster?”

The redhead looked up.

”Yes?”

”Are you okay?”

Aster nodded.

”Yeah.”

Emi considered that.

Then smiled.

”You look thoughtful.”

The Fletcher-class girl sighed.

”I am.”

Mina closed her book.

June leaned forward.

Aster looked toward the residential district.

For a moment, she seemed troubled.

Then she spoke.

”I think we messed up.”

Emi frowned.

”Why?”

”The sailors.”

Mina nodded slowly.

”That wasn’t part of our plan.”

”I know.”

Aster lowered her eyes.

”But maybe everyone got too excited.”

For a moment, the girls were quiet.

Then June spoke.

”Maybe.”

Aster glanced up.

The recovering cruiser smiled faintly.

”But you didn’t tell anyone to grab him.”

”No.”

”And Alina specifically warned everyone not to.”

”Yes.”

June nodded.

”Then we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Aster considered that.

Then looked toward Emi.

The younger destroyer smiled gently.

”I think Kade likes knowing people are happy.”

Aster nodded.

”Yeah.”

”But maybe we should give him some space.”

For a moment, Aster looked disappointed.

Then she sighed.

”...Yeah.”