Time for the grand tour.

Kotone hastened to get her gaze back up to Intervention’s face.

Even standing up straight, this heavy cruiser was downright short. There simply wasn’t anywhere safe to rest one’s gaze, because of the wonders on display. Even looking her in the eye was difficult, given that intimidating aura.

Words failed Kotone, as her face boiled. Until she faked a cough.

“T-Thank you, Miss Intervention, but that won’t be necessary. I’m excited to get started.”

“Evidently.”

Those red eyes went below the belt, where Kotone hoped none of the very natural reaction she was having was obvious.

Intervention looked like she was debating something internally.

Whatever conclusion she reached, the maid simply went over to the old Clydesdale, popped the trunk, and pulled out two overstuffed suitcases. Now that Kotone could look at the open laced back of the maid outfit, and lack of sleeves, Intervention cut a thin figure that didn’t look like she could lift a feather duster.

Yet the humanoid cruiser hefted packed, swollen suitcases without a trace of effort, and motioned with her head to guide the Admiral into this excuse for a base.

Once the intense pressure of those red eyes was off Kotone, the newly-minted commander could take a moment to reflect. It was clear that Command wasn’t comfortable with a human of common blood gaining this kind of rank.

Even if, in the new naval world, ‘admiral’ wasn’t quite the title it used to be.

The ranks were expanding to meet the needs of new fleet programs. Yet to make sure she didn’t get any funny ideas, they kicked her out here. To the edge of nowhere, on the eve of grand events.

After all, a war was about to start, across the sea in Aclend.

This posting was crafted to ensure that no matter what happened, Kotone couldn’t gain glory, and raise higher to challenge Imperial centers of power.

However, if this place was a dumping ground for those in disfavor with the Admiralty, what was a gorgeous, powerful ship like Intervention doing out here? What few files were available on her were coated in black ink.

“Come, Admiral. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

There wasn’t much to the base, though things were laid out with plenty of green as a stark contrast to the obsidian cliffs and bare rock faces surrounding their camp. The brickwork was solid, and further put Kotone in mind of a college campus.

As evidenced by the heavy cruiser parked in dock, this was no academic playpen.

Artillery cruiser indeed. The warship’s huge turrets were oversized, causing her to rest low in the water. The painted bottom was entirely submerged, and then some. As a result, there was more than incidental rust on the hull.

Compared to the imposing greeting, and obscene figure, of Intervention’s human form, Kotone could relate much more comfortably to that titan bobbing placidly in the waters outside.

Talking with the base’s support personnel was also not difficult, thanks to the power dynamics. She just had to put on the stern, powerful mask of an Imperial officer, just as she had in training.

These weren’t peers to face down or rivals to defeat, just The Help.

She carried herself like a princess, and given her rank, that wasn’t a bad bet for this cadre of too-old-to-draft engineers and locally-sourced cat and bunny workmen. Few had more than words of simple greeting, but their welcomes were far more genuine than anything she’d gotten from ‘peers’.

Much less those windbags put over them all, the nobility.

Intervention’s own attitude towards the crew was much like furniture. She introduced both with equal vigor and affection. “Our complement is light, but considering I need no crew to operate, my only upkeep in daily life is food and board. The same will be true of any fleet girls we construct or obtain.”

Kotone nodded. “I’ve h-heard it said that the logistical benefits of a cruiser who only needs to eat and sleep are more powerful than a thousand bombs.”

It allowed the Empire, and her more disorganized rivals, the Alliance and the Unity, to maintain far larger standing fleets than previously imaginable.

Forget those thousands of bombs; thousands of ships could now ply the waves.

Not to mention the shipgirls had other unique abilities above a normal boat. Which could only be classified as ‘magical’. Kotone didn’t like to think in those terms, but Intervention made it difficult to deny.

“As you say, Admiral. We have six primary facilities worth mentioning. The dormitory section is for workers, though the second floor has accommodations for fleet girls. I am the only one taking up those rooms, and space will not be an issue.”

True enough.

Their disfavor was something both women noted, without needing a conversation. This base wasn’t going to get the funding for many new constructions.

All the real support would be sent to the front lines, where Kotone wasn’t.

Intervention pressed on, her every step a lesson in physics.

“Our industrial area. We have a construction yard, repair bay, and down there, the dock. Though they’re quiet now, they could be brought to full operation in just two days. I’ve kept everything in working order.”

Kotone could believe that. She noted, much like herself, the other humanoids, supposedly superior to this existence only made for war, jumped at Intervention’s barked commands with fear and immediate obedience.

At least there wouldn’t be any problems with morale she couldn’t solve.

Save for the distraction of those enormous breasts, which was becoming terminal for the poor admiral. Luckily, they had little longer to walk on the weathered cobblestone footpaths of the campus, er, base.

“The mess hall holds three meals per day, cooked by your most humble servant. Breakfast is at 0800, Lunch is at 1200, and Dinner is at 1800. I would take requests, but our fare is… standard. Very standard.” Intervention looked aside in annoyance.

Kotone couldn’t help a nervous smile. “D-Don’t worry on my account, I can handle military rations. My father thought it best that I be prepared for-”

“And here is your office, with quarters on the second floor.”

Oh, okay.

Normally, Kotone hated being interrupted, as she was soft-spoken and it was a regular occurrence back at the Academy. However, she was too busy just then, gawking at a brick building at least half the size of the dormitories.

Set aside for her “personal use”, to borrow an awkward phrase.

That steel behemoth out on the water finally convinced Kotone she was in the Imperial Navy.

This, on the other hand, was the first thing that made her feel like an admiral.

Having a large, wood-paneled office with windows overlooking the sea, and an entire upstairs penthouse suite maintained in waiting for her arrival, struck Kotone’s commoner heart as indulgent to the point of waste.

Intervention brought the luggage in with an impassive huff.

This certainly beats dormitory life, where privacy was a fairytale. Here, I shouldn’t have any trouble getting some ‘alone time’, and I really should do that soon...

Bam!

Intervention’s black-gloved hand slammed into the wooden wall, physically fencing in the taller woman. Its effect wasn’t lessened one bit by the height difference; that bust made up for it, filling all the space between them.

Kotone found herself pinned by a textbook kabedon; a wall-slam.

It was Kotone’s closest look yet into the enormous wealth of creamy cleavage, and it was too much for the admiral’s pure maiden heart to withstand.

“M-Miss I-Intervention?! What are you-”

“You must have built up so much on the drive over, Admiral. Your condition was noted prominently in your file. It's probably why you were chosen for command, above other candidates.”

Oh, so privacy really is a charming myth!

“I won’t permit you to refuse this time.”

Intervention produced a tiny bottle from somewhere, and squeezed out a burst of fragrant lotion between her cleavage.

“I will fulfill my duty, and wring out every drop with these massive breasts.”