Heading into town.

“This base is pitifully bereft of life. So what do you lot actually do?”

Admitting the answer was somewhere between ‘fuck all day’ and ‘go on expeditions for resources’ was too humiliating. Sovereign’s innocent, if bratty, question led to the first land-going expedition of the Imperial 47th.

Sailing into the nearest town with six warships would attract rather too much attention from excitable locals for the Admiral’s reclusive tastes.

So they piled into two cars, for Kotone’s beat up old Clydesdale only had four seats.

There was also an unfortunate incident which caused the destroyers to hit the deck and flatten themselves against the concrete of the parking lot. The noise of that long-suffering engine coughing to life made them think they were under attack by automatic weapons.

As the only responsible adult, Intervention drove the second car.

Affording a rare opportunity for Sovereign to plumb the depths, or possible lack thereof, of her newly-adopting commander without an overbearing sister taking absolute control of the situation.

They had nothing but time, for the nearest speck of civilization on this part of Meislohn’s rocky western coast, was an hour’s solid drive on winding, barren roads. Each way.

“It’s nice to have time away from Inty’s crushing pressure.” Sovereign sighed, and reclined in her seat to the extent this relic was capable of accommodating her. “I imagine she’s been smothering you to ****? For her, that would be simple.”

“She’s a lot,” Watanabe admitted. However, even when pressed for details, she’d merely demur. “But she’s just doing what she thinks is best.”

Sovereign rolled her eyes. “A qualification as useless as ‘water is wet’.”

“Um, sorry…”

Under the merest hint of sass, Kotone Watanabe wilted like a black lily. It made it difficult to draw out anything that resembled talking from the shivering woman.

Jaeger and Ace of Spades in the back weren’t ones for conversation, either.

Jaeger, who had so recently gotten herself shot up, was now back to a hundred percent with enough healing baths. Baths she’d often dourly shared with the energetic Sovereign.

That mute destroyer had dark green hair. Longer than Intervention’s, but still well short of long. Its messy, straight strands covered keen, searching red eyes, which peered out through a pair of spectacles not unlike Kotone’s.

Emphasized further by constantly wearing a facemask over her mouth.

Nobody was quite sure why she did that, nor why she didn’t, or couldn’t, speak.

Clad in a modified schoolgirl’s uniform with green trim, her figure was petite. She was, like most destroyers, slight of stature in various ways… except for height. Both she, and her companion Aces, stood slightly taller than Sovereign herself. Only very slightly, and the height difference didn’t mean anything, but it was regrettably true.

In contrast to the colors of Jaeger, Ace of Spades wore a slovenly black tracksuit, white sweatpants, had long, dark hair, and even sported a set of matching, wiggling cat-ears and a tail, also dark brown. She was the only one of the destroyers sporting a more considerable bust, because she was heavyset everywhere.

A bust that of course couldn’t compete with Sovereign’s own, fufu.

Ace of Spades despised unnecessary speech or motion, which put her in a tough spot as Jaeger’s interpreter. The few times one could hear Jaeger’s voice ring out only came when she was badly startled, and caught off her guard.

Not that Sovereign would do that to a mute girl just to see what would happen!

Though, easily bored, the squadron’s new drama queen did get significant amusement out of imagining how her most holy sister was doing in the other car, equipped as she was with the chatterboxes known as Sunder and Fortuna… and no escape possible, save for plowing through the precarious metal shoulder to turbulent seas far below.

It must surely have been tempting, but sister always had great self-control.

Control Sovereign herself had trouble with, when confronted with dullards. Even with this opportunity to talk frankly, the one time Intervention would not interfere, the Admiral evaded and demurred questioning, and preferred to put on the tinny static of distant, barely-audible radio stations.

About the only thing Sovereign learned then about Kotone Watanabe, that she didn't know before, was that the Admiral had a penchant for vulgar human ‘jazz’.

Naturally, Sovereign was grateful for the rescue, and had expressed that gratitude in certain various ways by now. It just hadn’t been made clear what she was really rescued from. Forget the slings and arrows of those Alliance bitches, the real danger was having to spend one moment longer in the hell that was the 121st Squadron on the frontlines.

One of the reasons for running away was in fact the hope that an Alliance patrol would chance across her, and either take her captive, or just send her to the bottom, to coat the ocean floor with her steel and iron and crumbling wood.

A cheerful thought indeed, but now her life was a world away from it.

Maybe Inty was, for once, correct. While an Admiral who properly took the lead would be optimal, knowing when to press a girl in half, and when to back off and support her emotionally with every fiber of their being…

And Kotone had already proven there was a spine somewhere in there...

If Sovvy had to pick between ‘monster’ and ‘wimp’, then it was painfully clear.

Perhaps there were no deeper layers waiting to be plumbed, after all. Ah well, even the slow and mediocre could serve the glory of the Empire in their own way.

Beneath their betters.

After what seemed like an eternity of scratchy musical hell, the sprawling township of Far Harbor, and its fleet of freighters and fishing boats, finally came into view over one last hill. It spread out before them like the wings of a bird.

They’d seen a scattered stone house or meager straw-thatched farmstead here and there on the coastal road, but nothing resembling civilization until now.

For a girl used to city life in the occupied territories of the metropolitan Alliance, it was still one step up from stone knives and bearskins, but hey. Since they’d left at sunrise following early breakfast, that had given plenty of time for innumerable brick-and-mortar shops along the market district to open.

There would doubtless be shopping opportunities to exploit. The Admiral’s wallet would soon feel the pinch of six girls’ best efforts.

“We’ve dragged home so many barrels and shells for your exclusive benefit, yet are paid not one red cent, Admiral. It is only well that you should now provide.”

“What a Unitary perspective of ‘fairness’...”

“Hm? What was that?~”

“N-Nothing.”