"Captain on Deck!" Lieutenant Vorias called as he stepped out of the command chair. The junior comm assistant who'd been at the comm station slid to the assistant's post.

"Talk to me, Vorias" Arminia said as she settled in the chair.

"We're an hour out from Suen Base," Arminia nodded - the base was Western Fleet's northern nodal position, and Valiant's westernmost stop on her patrol route. "We were intercepted on the way in by a division of heavy cruisers, the Glorious and the Resplendent, and they're escorting us in since we're Kiserran built."

"Makes sense," Arminia said with a nod - while Valiant was in the registry, she was still a Kiserran frame, and it was always possible Kiserre had repainted a ship to sneak her behind the lines. "Have you signaled that we're just coming in to restock and pick up our prize crews?"

"That's what I was getting to, ma'am," Vorias said. "Glorious transmitted our orders. We're being pulled off our cruise and assigned to the Fourteenth Heavy Cruiser Squadron. Admiral Saressi's orders"

"Saressi?" Arminia whispered, then looked out the window of the sailing bridge. Through fifty miles of haze, the docking spires of Suen Base were visible - along with the dark, oblong shapes of dozens of skyships. Arminia's mouth tugged into a grin.

"Sounds like Admiral Saressi has something big planned. Send receipt of our orders if you haven't , then call the gunnery officer. Hand your station over to Joletta when she arrives, then call the exec and get your dress uniform. You and the exec will be joining the shore party,"

---

Anelik Saressi, Duchess of Praxar and commander of the First Battleship Squadron, stared out at the northwestern ocean. It reminded her of the ocean around her new duchy. Grey and stormy, cold and cruel. It wasn't the sort of ocean she'd like to live near, but then, women like her didn't get to choose where they ruled, or even where they fought.

Sheltered from the pounding rollers of the ocean by the natural enclave of the Suen Bay were two dozen ships, the part of the plan that Saressi was most worried about - these were water ships, and she'd never commanded any in battle before. A squadron of frigates, a squadron of
Armored Cruisers, three troop ships, and a single behemoth warship. The Varangian flagship Winter War. It was the first in a new breed of wet navy ships Varangia had dubbed Superdreadnoughts, and it's three triple gun turrets had a total of nine 15" guns could destroy entire city blocks from over the horizon. It might be vulnerable to aerial attack, but its bombardment power would be critical in the second phase of her plan.

Without consciously hearing anything, she became aware of someone behind her. Probably some officer bringing The Most Important Problem In History straight to her.

"If you have an issue you can take it up with my chief of staff," she said before turning to face the newcomer. Then she dropped to one knee, bowing her head. "Your majesty!"

"Stand, Admiral," Queen Jannel of Varangia said. "You aren't my subject," Saressi had never met Queen Jannel before, and the first thing she realized was the queen was a remarkably short woman. At six foot four, Saressi towered over most people, but Jannel was around Arminia's height.

"If I could ask, your majesty, what are you doing here?" Saressi set a hand on the railing that surrounded the docking spire's balcony.

"Well, Sayphay sent me a telegram a few days ago asking if she could borrow my entire High Seas Fleet," Jannel gestured at the grey warships gently rolling in the harbor. "I thought I might come along and see what for, and get the measure of the woman she's trusting with it all," Saressi nodded, then looked closely at the Queen. Her brown hair was a bundle of iridescent curls that hung past her shoulders, artfully applied makeup gave her face a soft, friendly touch, and she was wrapped in a dire stoat fur jacket that shone stark white against the dark of her skin. A simple [metal] presence coronet sat on her brow. Her face was calm, but her eyes were sharp and passionate - Saressi had to remind herself that this woman was a monarch, not a friend.

"Well. That would be me, ma'am," Saressi held her hand out, and Jannel took it. Her handshake was firm, and Saressi smiled.

"Since you're interested in what we have planned, could I invite you to join myself and some of my senior officers for a working dinner tonight at eighteen o'clock? We'll be going over the initial ops plan then,"

"That sounds excellent," Jannel said. "Please tell your officers it's still a working dinner. No dress uniforms."

---

Arminia always felt a little naked without her sword. Since the battle in the gulf that had gotten worse - that sword had been the only thing that saved her life in the boarding action aboard the KFS Enterprise.  But Admiral Saressi's dispatch had been clear - this was a working dinner. Dress swords and badges of office were strictly impolite.

Her work uniform was bare of medals or ribbons - she wore a simple midnight blue tunic with the red cuffs of a combat commander and the Ruby cuff links that marked her as heir to the throne, and she took off her white cockaded tricorn and hung it on the hat rack as she crossed the threshold into the fort's conference room. Most of the cockades on the rack were the grey of normal officers or the undyed peacock feathers of squadron commanders. Her eyes swept the room, and she recognized half a dozen or so of the twenty officers, mostly from previous meetings. Of course she'd known that Admiral Saressi was hosting the dinner. She hadn't brought her exec or Lieutenant Vorias - they hadn't been invited, and this dinner was for senior officers. A captain of a single ship like her didn't qualify - except that she'd already served as a temporary admiral, and in social terms she outranked the entire Sky Force.

"Sky-Captain Caliak," an Aerotrooper sergeant with a magnificent mustache and a shotgun on his back announced as she turned towards the officers. "Welcome."

"Thank you for having me. Admiral." She first addressed the sergeant, then Admiral Saressi. The rules of military protocol were ironclad.

"Of course. Do sit down," Saressi gestured to a seat - the admiral was at the head of the table, and Arminia's chair was two places down on her left. Apparently she wasn't the most junior attendant. A quartet of stewards were milling about, taking drink orders and delivering appetizers - the moment Arminia sat down, she had a glass of iced cola and a small plate of fried shrimp in front of her. She thanked the steward, an enlisted girl who looked barely nineteen and blushed like a beet when Arminia spoke to her, but managed to smile in return.

"Good evening, Captain," the officer on Arminia's left said. Arminia turned to look at her - she was a woman of middling height whose cuffs bore the same red as Arminia's, but her cuff links held the insignia of a commodore, and her face was somehow familiar.

"Good evening, commodore...?"

"Jutal Schrader," she said. Oh. Once Arminia heard the last name, the familiarity made sense. She was about the right age to be Harle's mother or aunt. "I'm your squadron commander."

"Glad to meet you then, Commodore," Sitting side by side was a bit awkward for a handshake, but Arminia tried. Jutal smiled at her, then simply held up a fist - Arminia raised hers and bumped the commodore's. She'd seen that before...wasn't it an Ulein custom?

Arminia heard the door open, but her seat faced away from it. She didn't want to detract from her dignity by twisting in her chair, so

"Queen Jannel of Varangia" the sergeant at the door announced.

Arminia twisted in her chair.

It was Jannel - for once, she wasn't in formal dress or her court robes, just a pair of slacks and a button up white shirt. Arminia grinned. Then everyone, including Arminia, stood and bowed at the waist. The depth of the bow was finely calculated, math so trained into Astarians so as to be instinctive. Arminia hardly did more than dip her head - one of the rear admirals down at the foot of the table must have been a duchess because she only bowed a bit more than Arminia. The majority of the room wasn't noble, however, and they bowed so deep they were almost horizontal.

Including the steward who'd served Arminia her drink - laden with a tray of empty plates and glasses, she bowed too quickly and toppled over. The crash of glass was instantly answered by a pair of stewards emerging from a door, broom and dustpan in hand. The steward who'd fell looked ready to flee, and Arminia had the feeling if Jannel looked at her  she would have spontaneously combusted. But the Queen of Varangia held her composure.

"Thank you for having me. Admiral" Jannel said, her voice high and lilting.

"Of course. Do sit down" Saressi responded, gesturing to the seat at Arminia's right. Arminia smiled as Jannel flowed around the chair and Arminia seated her. Behind Jannel had come half a dozen Varangian officers - the Aerotrooper sergeant didn't have time to announce them all, and they found their own seats. Varangia might still have Jarls and a Queen, but they'd never hidden their disdain for the 'showiness' of Astarian aristocrats. Arminia didn't feel malice from it though - the Varangians sat down in descending order of rank, from an Admiral who sat directly across Arminia down to a Captain a few seats down the table. They weren't being disrespectful - they were just professionals who wanted to get on with their jobs.

And with the drinking, Arminia realized as an Astarian steward and a Varangian enlisted sailor carried jugs of mead and ale into the conference room. Arminia's nose curled at the smell of so much alcohol, but she didn't say anything. Her mother had taught her that a Queen could never afford a lapse in judgement, and never let a drop of alcohol past her lips. But she also couldn't judge. Next to Arminia, Jannel thanked one of the stewards, who'd brought her a colorful cocktail Arminia didn't recognize.

"When did you arrive at the fort, Jannel?" Arminia asked

"A few hours ago. I came in with my fleet, but I'm only here for the night, then I take a train to Karavak," Arminia nodded, thinking for a moment about the war at large and the politics. She was about to respond when Admiral Saressi stood up.

"Gentlemen, ladies, and variations thereupon, thank you for coming. I'm sure the rumors have been flying fast and furious about the upcoming operation - for those who haven't heard, welcome to Operation Slothful Debauchery." A chuckle ran through the room, especially from the duchess that Arminia had noticed earlier. "I know, I know, but my staff officers literally choose names by throwing darts at a board, and this is what we got," Arminia glanced at Jannel, who was covering her mouth with one hand, and Saressi spotted her look. "Queen Jannel happened to be traveling with her fleet, so she's here to get her impressions and convey them to Queen Sayphay when they meet in a few days. I know everyone's excited about dinner, but I want to hit the high points of the plan before the entrees arrive," Saressi reached out and knocked three times on the mahogany wall behind her. A carefully concealed door slid open and out stepped two junior officers carrying a map, followed by another with a stack of pamphlets. The map was set up on an easel, and Arminia's mind immediately overlaid the strategic situation on it. It showed the northwestern lobe of Astaria, Varangia's southwestern coast, Kiserre, and the scattering of islands between the three. The largest island, Tigaria, was shown in detail, its lakes and hills outlines in blue and brown, and the two cities and various towns marked by dots.

"Immediately before the war broke out, Kiserre shifted its forward deployments to Tigaria, giving it a base from which it can threaten the coasts of both our nations and the shipping between them. It's the best resupply point in the western ocean, and Kiserre has spent the past two months building it into a major fleet base. After the battle of the gulf, most of the damaged ships which weren't captured retreated there, and Aerial Intelligence estimates a number of them still are." Jannel furrowed her brow, then raised a hand, and Saressi nodded at her to speak.

"I know I'm no naval officer, so this may seem obvious, but why didn't we immediately move against Tigaria after the battle of the gulf? Couldn't we have caught a huge portion of their fleet in their repair slips?"

"It's not obvious, there was actually a move in the senior staff to do just that. We decided against it for two reasons. The first was that we had almost as many lost and damaged ships as Kiserre did - in fact, after the battle, they would have had more than we did if Princess Arminia and the crew of Nightmare hadn't rescued two squadrons of surrendered cruisers," Arminia blushed at the glances of approval across the table. "But since the battle was indecisive, we didn't have a definite numerical superiority. We captured enough ships that now we do have that superiority. The other factor was the weather. You're all cleared to know about the Teleforce Beam and the Battleships - they're our ace in the hole, and we've been waiting until they could be decisive. The problem is that the battleships are at their most useful on a clear day, and it's been nonstop fog and storms almost since the gulf. Unfortunately, that's just what summer in the gulf is like, but now heading into autumn we should have a few months of relatively clear skies. Which is why, starting a week from tomorrow, we set out in force. The plan is simple enough at its base. The Sky Force travels ahead - Kiserran scouts pick us up, and both sides prepare for a pitched battle. We smash their formation with the battleships, hammer them with the rest of the fleet, and hunt down any stragglers. Once the fleet is wrecked, we move on to the island. Tigaria has always been stubborn about its independence, so we might encounter local resistance along with Kiserran troops. We ignore the cities and go straight for Kiserre's fleet base. They've fortified it with guns from the wet navy ships they decommissioned last year, according to AerInt, but nothing close to the scale of the Varangian Superdreadnought. So Winter War will bombard the enemy defensive positions. If it's practicable, she'll avoid the repair slips - we want to keep their damaged ships for ourselves. Once we've destroyed their naval guns, the Varangian army and the Aerotroopers land and force the base's surrender. We don't attack the cities, and we try not to engage Tigarian militia if we can. Any questions?" Saressi smiled, standing at parade rest, as her audience digested the outline of her plan.

"Just one," said the Varangian admiral who'd sat first. "