Around and around Friederika and I go. The two of us clasp hands tightly, the joys of spinning eternally on the playground. We kick sand around, giggling all the same, losing ourselves in excitement. "This is fun!" Friederika says giddily "I hope this never ends!"

It is fun. I haven’t had this much fun in forever! Though, maybe we should play again sometime? Pointing at the sky, it's getting a little dark though. Our parents might get a lil’ worried, y'know?

"No!" Friederika pouts her fat cheeks, a staunch crossing of her equally fat but short arms, "I want to play with you some more! It’s far from being dark!" She opens her eyes; they’re big and round like a pup’s. “Unless, unless… you don’t want to play with me anymore? You want to get away from me that badly?” Friederika mumbles “you’re lying to me like all the other kids…?”

What? No! What would even make you come to that idea? You’re a silly billy! I just don’t want our mums and pops to come by scolding us and ruin the moment is all… we can always play later!

Friederika squints at me with pursed lips, then she grabs one of my hands and cups both of hers over it. “You really, really mean that?” The girl asks, getting closer to me, “we’ll really, really play together next time?” I give my nod.

And the day after that, and the week after that!

“I’ll hold you to that!” Friederika says, a toothy grin. I squeeze her fat hands; she squeezes back. “I really, really will hold you to that, you know.” I take a step forward, Friederika’s eyes widen again; this time in surprise, her mouth forms a big O. I throw my arms around her and give her the tightest squeeze I can manage—she lets out a startled oomph.

You’re the only friend I’ve made recently, Fredrickly. There was another girl I met recently, but she was bigger than me and made fun of me ‘cus of my voice, and although we made a promise to meet again, we never did, and that makes me sad… so! I know how you feel, and I don’t want my new best friend to feel that way, it’s too sad, innit?!

“You..” Friederika mumbles, is she trying to suppress a laugh? “Fred-ickly? It’s Friederika, you goof!”

That’s what I said, though.

“No!” Friederika pulls away, she grins but her eyebrows are furrowed, “Friederika! It’s easy to pronounce, what’s wrong with you, you nutter?”

I ain’t a nutter…! It’s my turn to pout. Friederika grins again, this time she yanks me to her. Her grip on me is tighter than before. Fine, fine, how about this? Um… I’ll call you Kiki.

“Ki…ki?” Friederika repeats. There’s a moment of silence; then she shakes a little. She makes some choking gasps—and I pull myself back to see streams of tears and some reddening under her eyes.

Hey, hey! I didn’t mean to make you cry! I’m sorry… I can just call you Fredrickly again if you want! I mean, um… I can do my best to pronounce it again. Friederika, however, wipes her eyes and tries to laugh off the sobs.

“I think I prefer you calling me Kiki over Friedrickly,” she says, and she pinches my cheeks, “but in return, I’ll call you Vicky. It’s only fair, right? If I have to call you Victoria every time, that’s going to be a lot of mouthfuls! What kind of name is Victoria, anyways?”

Hey, I mean, at least it’s better than my surname… I can’t even pronounce it, none of the other kids can! Happ… Happ- Schwhukzaburger, or something. Friederika, of course, can’t help but giggle. It’s a funny name, ain’t it? Why can’t it be something simple?

“Now that’s a funny name!” Friederika grips me by the shoulders. She looks me up and down, revealing that goofy grin again. “But a name’s only a name, right? It ain’t nothing to fuss over. Friends, though…” she trails off. Friederika brings me closer to her, and I rest the side of my head on hers, the two of us tightening all the same. “Now that’s something to fuss over! I’m so happy that you think of me as a bestie. Happy enough that it makes me cry!”

A bestie, huh? The two of us besties… I like the sound of that, Kiki. Let’s be besties for life, Kiki! Play all day and every day, just the two of us!

“I think it’s going to take me a little while to get used to that, Vicky,” Friederika answers. She must be excited since she can’t stand still without making me dizzy from cradling me. “But I like the sound of that too!”

Well, being called Vicky is weird, too, you know? I’m used to people not saying my name right, and, like, that one big kid always says it wrong the way that gets me upset the most! She was kinda mean, but I had fun playing with her for a while.

“You think you’ll meet her again?” Friederika asks, but I can only shrug.

Who knows? I mean, I hope I do… even if she was a little mean, she was nice enough to play with me.

“Well, forget about that meanie, then!” Friederika says, “who needs a big meanie head when you have a new bestie like me?” I can’t help but smile.

But really, it is getting kinda dark now, Kiki… so we should head back to our parents before they come searching for us. Friederika doesn’t respond, and I try to detach from Friederika—but her grip never lessens. Kiki?

“I don’t want to let go, Vicky,” the dark-haired girl says softly, “I don’t wanna let go!”

Hey, what’s with you? Seriously, I’m not going to disappear on you like those other meanie kids! Friederika, however, buries her face onto my neck.

“I wish we could stay together like this, forever… together forever, just like besties,” Friederika says, her words struggling to come out.

Kiki…?

Before I get the chance to react, I fumble forward—my arms swipe at nothing, empty. I frantically look around. Friederika is nowhere to be found. The lovely little playground, the other kids, all the parents and dogs on leashes, the sidewalk and the road, the towering buildings around us—it’s all gone. It’s all been consumed by darkness.

Friederika? I shout—shouting? It didn’t occur to me, but I’m not actually talking. I can’t speak. I can’t scream. Before I get to process any further, I fall—fall endlessly into this pitch abyss. I fall forever through so many planes of existence. An overgrown playground, demolished time and again. Time and time again I watch this playground rebuild, and time again demolished into new buildings—until even then a flashing ball of light consumes all. An explosion with no sound—but it leaves me ringing regardless.

And then darkness once more. Below me, a golden light stream appears like a blip—rapidly expanding in size the more I free-fall. Golden orbs float past me. I scream, of course, but there is nothing. I thrash, of course, but I have no body to speak of. Accepting my fate, I close my eyes as I plummet through this mystical stream. There is no sound of water—no indications of a splash, only the familiar, eerily silence.

『You poor, poor thing.』

It’s a soothing voice nearly omnidirectional. It sounds like that of a young woman; so elegant, yet so genuinely apologetic. Unfamiliar, and yet, a nagging feeling I’ve heard it somewhere before. But where?

I open my eyes—and a creeping realization that I’m in a ship corridor—the Yilan? I frantically pat myself down—a quick grope at my chest here, a slap on my thigh there. A handful of my golden locks for good measure. I glance around to hurried personnel carrying stretches and wounded. Wounded among the walls; sitting, laying down their sides, sheets covering some dead here and there. The occasional doctor heading from one sailor to the next. The light from a ceiling siren lights the passageway. None pay me any attention.

My gaze is drawn to a covered body at my feet. My heart beats rapidly—and for some reason, it is the only thing I hear. I kneel next to the body, and with a hesitant hand pull back the heavy covering. I stare at the person for what seems like an eternity. My hands tremble, my chest tightens. I try to avert my attention—but an invisible force keeps me locked on the body.

Her diluted, dark pupils are devoid of life. Short, dark green hair. Her blood-shot eyes rolled back into her head, and her mouth—a dark shade of purple—gaping open. Screaming for help, screaming for somebody to save her. Intense claw marks on her neck, as if struggling for oxygen. Faint tear marks on her pasty skin.

I want to look away but I can’t. Water forms in my eyes. I want to cry and scream, but I’m too powerless to do so. The only thing I’m capable of is observing the results of my mistakes.

Lying before me is sub-lieutenant Friederika Trachenberg. My best friend, my soul-mate sister. The goofball who gets me in trouble more times than I count. The one person who means the world to me. The only one who understands me and the only one I want to grow old and die with. And I can’t do anything for her.

I’ve failed her, just like all the others I’ve let down. I’m young, powerless in rank and authority to do anything. All around me, dead people close in on me. The rotting corpse of Buttermilch, the cool Casavant, the uncaring Mazzareli, the disapproving Margot. I’ve let them all down.

Something presses against my back. From behind me comes into view two arms—covered to their wrists in semi-transparent black, sleeves which are mildly puffy—which proceed to wrap around my shoulders. This character behind leans in, hugging me tightly. I can make out the skirting of a black gown, but not much else. I feel another touch—her head—as she rests against the back of my neck.

『You poor, uneventful child.』

What is this? What is happening? I want to croak—but I cannot talk. I cannot convey my sorrow. Nothing wants to come out—and all I can do is shudder uncontrollably.

『What a terrible, unbelievable stroke of misfortune.』

So calm, and yet this voice sounds frustrated… so apologetic.

『But sweep aside your worries—your fears. And appreciate what you have, regardless of the grief that others have suffered.』

I jerk uncontrollably—and in the next moment I’m sitting up straight in a darkly lit room. It’s stuffy as hell. My chest twinges and hurts as my heart races at a rapid beat. Beads of sweat roll down my face and neck. My gaze darts around just as rapidly, and finally, I come to my senses.

An uncontrollably loud, obnoxious, overwhelming noise violates my ears—it’s irritating as hell! It’s the most grating thing I’ve ever had to hear.

And as I tear myself to see the source of this outrageously gasping, wheezing woman lying next to me. It sounds like a horrible sawing, a bear’s grumbling, a dying cat’s last-ditch effort to fend for itself. But above all—it’s Friederika. The sub-lieutenant Trachenberg. Kiki. It is her, right? Was that merely a dream I was experiencing? Or was it simply a wake-up call to delusions of Friederika being alive?

I roll over to her, being careless to mount the peacefully snoring, defenseless Friederika. And with all my might, I grab her by the cheeks and pull and push on them with all my strength. There’s a gasp and then a startled cry—the startled Friederika mumbles something before shouting at me with teary eyes.

“Blimey! Chrwist almighty! What the blwoody hell is wong with you, you dewanged woman!” Friederika screams, and I can’t help but giggle. Tears obscure my vision, and I stop abusing her cheeks. Friederika attempts to wiggle herself free from under me, and I move my weight to the side so she can do so. Friederika curses under her breath, rubbing her reddish cheeks. “Seriously, if you don’t like my snoring at all, you know,” she shoots me a glare “you could just…” a pause; then a frown. “I don’t know, be normal? Shake me by the shoulder? Blimey, Vicky… I know you’re upset that there’s… some drool on your uniform—and I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t…” she trails off, and scoots over to hug me, “oh gosh, Vicky? What’s up? Why ya crying on me?” She clears her throat, cradling me in her arms.

“I’m just so happy,” I gasp, “so happy I can hear your stupid, dreadful, irritating snoring in the first place. I… I had a horrible dream, a terrible dream that I was… that made me realize if I was hallucinating you ever since our ship got rammed,” Friederika scoffs, and I pull her away after she wipes the tears away. “You are real, right?” I choke, trying to force a smirk, “I’m not… I-I'm not simply manifesting you as a form of regret or anything, am I?"

Friederika is taken back at first. She wipes my eyes with both thumbs, a scoff. The sub-lieutenant tries to suppress tearful chokes of her own, bringing me closer to her. A stroke of my hair, a grab of my hand that she places on her chest. "You're too much for me sometimes, Vicky. I don’t know what kind of bad dream you had, but it ain’t true! See, see? I’m the real deal, as authentic as it gets! I think those military hospital dramas you’ve been watching lately have been steeping a little too deep in that noggin of yours, I reckon.”

A brief sense of relief, groping Friederika like this. Burying myself into her hair. This is real. Why wouldn't this be real? That dream was just as real, too. But… Friederika’s annoying breath is hot and tickles my sweaty neck. And as much as I squeeze her, Friederika lets out those irritating pained grunts—each time it’s different. There’s no way I could be imagining this. There’s no need for me to have a panic attack.

“Hey, if we stay like this any longer, I’m going to start bawling my eyes out too, and then I won’t stop, you know?” Friederika says, breathing heavily and clearing her throat. She pulls away, turning to wipe her eyes. “Blimey… I really can’t keep away for one second without you having a mental breakdown on me, can I?” Friederika picks up her coat and her boots, plopping on the bed with grunts, sliding her thick boots on.

Friederika continues, “I feel like this is my fault for not being more serious on dragging you to shore leaves with me, Vicky,” she tries to avert her gaze at first but it’s not long before we lock eyes, “military dramas or not… you’re being too hard on yourself, Vick,” Friederika remarks. I watch with awe as Friederika—with immense effort—balances her way through my strategically calculated mess to safety. She twirls around, pointing a finger at me. “I think it’s about time you get some fresh… er, air! ”

Wiping my eyes one last time with my sleeve—at this point, my uniform is more or less ruined. If we were to have an inspection right here, on the spot, by say, Prince, I’d be screwed. “You’re kidnapping me for that last scheduled shore leave?” I muse, getting up and walking casually through the sorted mess. Friederika folds her arms under her breasts, thinking about the question—she shakes her head. “Oh?”

“Tsk tsk!” Friederika wags a finger “I’m sure you figured out by now what part of my purpose for falling asleep on you was, right?” I puff out my chest, sighing all the same.

“Well… I’m sure it’s because you wanted to stop me from going to the admiral’s meeting,” I say, twirling a lot of hair, “unless… you had some ulterior motives pampering you?”

“Well, I’ll be honest with that,” Friederika laughs, “I didn’t expect to get assaulted in my sleep by a deranged brat!” That constitutes a harsh jab.

“And who exactly are you calling a bloody brat?” I ask, backing her up against the door. Friederika laughs nervously, fumbling to press the panel to open the door. Before I get the chance to move away or even warn Friederika of the impending danger, the door slides open—and I crash atop her. The hallway is bright, and it takes a moment to readjust—but when I do, a flustered Friederika lies underneath me. “Well, so much for your plan to stall, huh?”

“I guess it did,” Friederika says, her eyes averting mine, I glance up to bemused personnel watching our little spat. “Um… can you get off me now? This is rather embarrassing.”

“What’s wrong, getting stage fright from a little crowd?” I retort. Friederika’s face only gets redder, she bites down on her lip. “What happened to all that confidence you had?”

“ Well…” Friederika begins. Just then, someone steps forward through the crowd. I pay them no attention at first, but the clearing of the person’s throat and their voice makes my hair stand up straight.

“Well—indeed. Do I even want or need to ask why there is such a commotion?” It’s an authoritarian, stressed tone all too familiar to my ears. Friederika and I leap to attention faster than I ever could imagine. Our new guest of honor Lieutenant Plotte taps his arm—a vast amount of papers tucked under one of his arms. “First I hear accounts of screaming and rough-housing—and my first instinct was to grab the nearest MP loitering around,” a glance behind him, then a sigh, “but for some reason, my instincts were telling me it’s two no-good officers goofing around—and as fate would have it, there was a crackdown in the cafeteria regarding a bunch of alcoholics being far too chummy, anyways,” his stern gaze falls upon me, “am I wrong in my assumption? You look like a complete mess. Did you two have an emotional fallout? In that case…”

“Lieutenant Plotte, with all due respect, I think I get the point,” I remark, holding one hand up and holding my head up with the other.

“First of all, enSIGN Happ-SCH…” Prince pauses abruptly, blinking several times. The lieutenant clears his throat. Am I imagining things, or has Prince been getting used to this routine of addressing him properly? Dare I say Prince finds it fun? “One of these days, the two of you are going to seriously cause me an aneurysm,” oh, maybe I spoke too soon.

Prince continues, “ensign Happ, sub-lieutenant Trachenberg, in lack of an MP, I implore that the two of you behave and act like proper officers,” his scary stare once again grazes me, “and ensign Happ-Schwarzenberger, that goes for you in particular. As much as the thought pains me, you will soon be a Lieutenant once consultation with the Admiral goes through. In the meantime, please remember that being a Lieutenant means more responsibility. I implore you to keep in mind that means your actions and conduct serves as a role model to junior officers,” Prince exhales heavily through his nose, “I have enough on my plate, I do not more cadet officers fall into the belief that it simply acceptable in unchecked fraternization.”

As hard-ass as always, Prince. Of course, even I know enough not to blurt that out. “Thanks for the lecture, old man,” Friederika blurts in my stead, “so that means you’ll let us off the hook, right?” This woman, what am I going to do with her? And she has the gall to say I’m gone mad? Glancing at Prince, I can imagine he is thinking the same. I nudge her on the side, and she looks at me with that stupid toothy grin of hers; a wink.

“Sub-lieutenant Trachenberg…” Prince groans, pinching his nose ridge, “you’re really trying your luck here… but given this uncomfortable atmosphere and the piercing glares of this crowd, I’ll concede just this once, and besides,” a smirk—but maybe I’m imagining it, “the two of you have somewhere you need to be right now, right?”

“The brig?” I ask innocently, twirling my bangs. Again, there’s that subtle smirk—but maybe Friederika is right and I am slowly becoming deranged.

“Well, depending on the chaos you’ll commit on the Trinidad, I may very well reserve a place there for the two of you—Fried—“ a click of his tongue, “sub-lieutenant Trachenberg, in particular, can enjoy her shore leave there.” Friederika tries to laugh nervously, and she returns the nudge. Firstly, the fact that going to the Trinidad seems to be a foregone conclusion that something will go wrong kind of stings when Prince says it. Secondly, hearing the name Trinidad brings me a sense of relief. I cup my chest, knowing that Alexa and her Vinnie friend are safe and sound… if the Trinidad survived at Rouen—even assuming there was any combat there, then that might mean they are alive, too.

Prince steps out of the way, one arm extended out, “now, if you don’t mind, get out of my sight before I change my mind… and frankly I’m not sure there are any more shuttles left. If you hurry, you might be able to catch the last one to the flagship.”

“Did Mazzareli already depart for it by now?” I ask, “who’s even acting CO now, Prince?”

“Well, I suppose you’re talking to him right now,” Prince says dryly, “enSIGN Happ-SchwarzenBERGER.” Friederika and I chuckle nervously. Maybe we are pushing our luck too far? Prince flashes his stack of papers to regain our attention. “Get going now, please, that goes for everyone.” With concise salutes, Friederika and I hurry off, and the crowd disperses—

But at the last moment, a hand on my sleeve, and I turn to Prince grabbing my attention. “Before you go, uh, hm,” Prince pulls me closer to him, and he gets to work patting me off with a handkerchief, as well as fixing my unkempt color. “I wish you’d take far better care of your uniform, Vic,” Prince says under his breath. “If I see you off now like this, I’d bloody well never hear the end of it from the Lieutenant Commander.”

“Prince…” I mutter, “you’re too kind, I mean… fixing my uniform, sticking your old man neck out for me and Kiki, and… letting me go to the Trinidad, really,” a clear of my throat, “it’s making this little maiden a little sentimental.” Prince only scoffs and reels me around to a curious Friederika looking back, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Prince says, “I think you more than everyone else deserves some rest and recuperation at the Side,” a pat on the shoulder, “to be honest, I was against the idea at first of letting you go to the Trinidad. Mazzy knew you would be dead set on wanting to go, the moment you found out.”

“Mazzy?” I scoff. Mazzy?

“Don’t pick up any bad habits from me, anyway,” a deep breath from Prince, “Just… please don’t do anything that would make me look bad. Don’t do anything that would make me genuinely regret being the last obstacle from you raising bloody hell over superiors. You earned this double promotion and the Victorian Cross, Vic,” a firmer grip, “don’t go screwing it up now.”

“No promises!” I say confidently, “a maiden does whatever her heart desires, I believe.” Prince sighs in defeat and pats me on the back.

“If I hold you back any longer, there probably won’t even be a shuttle left to speak of… so get going, Lieutenant Happ-Schwarzenberger.”

“But I’m not a—oh,” a gentle push as I go into a trot to catch up with Friederika.

“What was that all about, huh?” Friederika asks, “a last-minute forbidden declaration of love? Oh! Poor Paul! If only he knew that the love of his life was swiped clean under his nose by his older brother!”

“I think you not only have a bizarre imagination, but a big mouth that needs to be sealed tight,” I answer, and the two of us giggle. “No, no, it was nothing of the sort, really. He…”

“I think I get the idea,” Friederika interjects, “he was just giving you a lil’ prep talk and fix-up your uniform to cover his bum a little. I mean, you did look pretty roughened up a little.”

“And just who is the cause of that exactly?” I ask, and Friederika smiles at me with that despicable grin of hers. I stop, and Friederika doesn’t take notice until a second later, retracing her steps to stand next to me.

“What’s up?” Friederika asks “you getting last-second cold feet about going? Honestly, I don’t blame you, the sooner we head ashore, the better.” I only shake my head in response. I lock eyes with Friederika, intently, and she realizes this and tries to avert her gaze; her cheeks burning red.

“I’m just taking in the fact that I have you, Kiki,” I answer with a grin, “thank you, really. For, um… everything. For being my friend—no, for being my bestie,” a step closer “I couldn’t live with you—I couldn’t imagine not hearing those dreadful ear-shattering snores of those. If I had to go one day, one week, or a month without hearing them, I don’t think I could actually fall asleep at all…”

“Oh stop,” Friederika says with a serious tone, “if you go any further, I’ll break down and cry. And then I won’t be able to stop—and then I’ll blow my nose all over your collar.” This time, I step forward and wipe the first hints of tears from her ears.

“That’s fine,” I answer, “you deserve a shoulder to cry on too. That’s what besties are for, right? They cry on each other’s shoulders, and they argue, and they put up with each other’s faults…”

“Vicky,” Friederika says, her lips trembling as she tries not to sniffle, “do you want me to blast snot all over your collar?” I can’t help but smile. I wipe her eyes again, and with one arm help with guiding her down the corridor. “I really do appreciate that, though Vicky,” she says after calming down after some time—and then a chuckle.

“Hm? What’s so funny?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Friederika says as the two of us glance out to space, “it’s just… you saying besties… blimey, Vicky, I haven’t heard you say that in forever. It’s awfully nostalgic, you know?” She turns her head to smile at me. Nostalgic is one way of putting it, yeah. “So… what do you intend to do once we arrive at the Admiral’s ship, anyway? You can’t just, like, whip out a simulation about what they’re doing is good or bad, right?”

She’s right. As much as I am the Miracle Vick, or Heroine of Toscana, or whatever cringy names these people come up with, I’m still just Victoria Happ-Schwarzenberger. I’m only an Ensign—soon to be field promoted to Lieutenant. Brenaco is a threat that we should’ve paid more attention to, and yet commodore Chal recklessly abandoned it for his game and glory—costing us the lives of those like Buttermilch, and so many ships we could’ve used to put pressure on those Brenaco mercenaries or whatever it is they are. There’s no telling just how long the Franks will tolerate our presence here, too, since almost the entirety of the armada is here now. I think our original mission here has long been compromised the moment we set foot in Toscana.

“Not the slightest clue,” I remark finally. Friederika looks at me with awe and shrugs smiling.

“S’ppose there isn’t much we can do except wait and watch—but so help me mum if you do anything irrational… like sucker punch the Admiral or something.”

“No promises!” I declare. The two of us drown the corridor with laughter.

“By the way, did you notice that one Lieutenant who was accompanying Prince?” Friederika asks. I shake my head; can’t say I noticed any of them that stood out to me. “Mate, she looked pissed… I think she might be bad news. When she saw Prince talking to you, she was practically biting down on the folder she had in her hands…” Friederika tilts her head, using what brain cells she has to think, “Poe Kippard? I think that’s what her name is. She sounds like trouble.”

I only reply with an affirmative hum. Well, not that I’m dismissive of this Poe gal. It sounds kind of concerning but there’s no point in worrying about it at the moment because for now there are greater things to deal with. Anything else that distracts me from focusing on what the Admiral has in plan for the course of action with the Brenaco brigands is trivial.