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Horizon Atoll: Hearts of Steel
Chapter 2.2 - “Aster vs. Kade Bher” · Oct 14, 2026
Chapter List (39)
- 1 Chapter 0.0 - “When They Call Sortie” 2026-10-14
- 2 Chapter 0.1 - “Apparently, Nobody Wanted the Island” 2026-10-14
- 3 Chapter 0.2 - “Hour Zero” 2026-10-14
- 4 Chapter 0.3 - “Five Pendants” 2026-10-14
- 5 Chapter 0.4 - “Supplies!” 2026-10-14
- 6 Chapter 0.5 - “The People Who Were Always Here” 2026-10-14
- 7 Chapter 0.6 - “Please Don’t Be a Bollard” 2026-10-14
- 8 Chapter 1.0 - “A HARBOR WORTH DEFENDING” 2026-10-14
- 9 Chapter 1.1 - “The Price of Leaving Harbor” 2026-10-14
- 10 Chapter 1.2 - “The Wrong Kind of Beach Day” 2026-10-14
- 11 Chapter 1.3 - “Belle of the Blackwater” 2026-10-14
- 12 Chapter 1.4 - “A Fleet Worth Coming Home To” 2026-10-14
- 13 Chapter 1.5 - “The Price Written in Ink” 2026-10-14
- 14 Chapter 1.6 - “The Girl on the Manifest” 2026-10-14
- 15 Chapter 2.0 - “THE DAYS BETWEEN BATTLES” 2026-10-14
- 16 Chapter 2.1 - “Operation: Extract Commander” 2026-10-14
- 17 Chapter 2.2 - “Aster vs. Kade Bher” 2026-10-14
- 18 Chapter 2.3 - ”The Sky Belongs to No One” 2026-10-14
- 19 Chapter 3.0 — “THE ROGUE FLEET” 2026-10-14
- 20 Chaper 3.1 - “The Sound of Slow Propellers” 2026-10-14
- 21 Chapter 3.2 - “Five Names Across the Water” 2026-10-14
- 22 Chapter 3.3 - “The Fleet That Came to Collect” 2026-10-14
- 23 Chapter 3.4 - “When the Horizon Answered” 2026-10-14
- 24 Chapter 3.5 - “The Sea Strikes Back” 2026-10-14
- 25 Chapter 3.6 - “Nightmare Battle” 2026-10-14
- 26 Chapter 3.7 - “THE NAME THAT SINKS INTO THE ABYSS” 2026-10-14
- 27 Chapter 4.0 - “THE WEIGHT OF DAWN” 2026-10-14
- 28 Chapter 4.1 - “The Names We Carry” 2026-10-14
- 29 Chapter 4.2 - “The War Beyond the Horizon” 2026-10-14
- 30 Chapter 4.4 - “The Long Road Home” 2026-10-14
- 31 Chapter 4.4 - “Across the Blue Expanse” 2026-10-14
- 32 Chapter 4.5 - “The Road Beneath the Waves” 2026-10-14
- 33 Chapter 4.6 - “What We Bring Back” 2026-10-14
- 34 Chapter 5.0 - “THE WORK THAT KEEPS US ALIVE” 2026-10-14
- 35 Chapter 5.1 - “A Voice Across the Pacific” 2026-10-14
- 36 Chapter 5.2 - “The Weight of Nine Guns” 2026-10-14
- 37 INTERMISSION — “THE GAUNTLET HERO” 2026-10-14
- 38 INTERMISSION 1.1 - “Eight Years Without a Grave” 2026-10-14
- 39 INTERMISSION 1.2 - “The Night Before the Black Wave” 2026-10-14
The Trouble with Letting a Destroyer Get Bored
There were three things Commander Kade Bher had learned during the first half of Beach Week.
The first was that the Pacific Ocean looked considerably nicer when nobody was firing shells across it.
The second was that Eliza Ward could apparently improve station morale more effectively with grilled chicken than most officers could with a month of carefully worded speeches.
The third—and arguably the most important—was that Aster should never be allowed more than fifteen consecutive minutes of unsupervised boredom.
Unfortunately, nobody had informed him of the third rule before Thursday morning.
And now it was too late.
The southern recreation beach was already busy when Kade arrived shortly after ten.
He had come willingly this time.
A significant development, according to several people who had apparently begun tracking his recreational habits with the same enthusiasm normally reserved for fleet movements.
Kade had considered protesting.
Then decided that doing so would probably result in another meeting.
He was beginning to suspect that the inhabitants of Horizon Atoll would organize committees for anything if left alone long enough.
So he simply went to the beach.
Without being escorted.
Without being threatened with excessive social interaction.
And, most importantly, without anyone attempting to carry him anywhere.
The weather was beautiful.
The sky stretched overhead in an uninterrupted sheet of deep tropical blue, with wisps of pale cloud gathering far beyond the reef. A light breeze came off the water, carrying the scent of salt and the faint sweetness of flowering coastal plants. The sand had not yet reached the temperature necessary to punish unprotected feet, and the shallows beyond the designated swimming buoys glimmered in shades of green and turquoise.
In the distance, the Pacific continued toward a horizon so broad and unobstructed that it was sometimes difficult to remember how much danger existed beyond it.
Horizon Atoll itself remained unmistakably a military installation.
The old observation points still overlooked the approaches. Security patrols continued their rotations, Harbor Control remained staffed, and the damaged shape of USS Breakwater stood at her assigned berth beyond the palms.
The carrier maintenance area was still busy with essential work.
Electrical repairs hadn’t ceased.
Medical personnel remained on duty.
Nobody had forgotten what had happened at the Burnt Narrows.
But along the approved southern beach, the atmosphere was different.
People were laughing.
A portable radio played music beneath one of the shade structures.
A pair of Keelborn girls were attempting to erect a second volleyball net while disagreeing about the correct tension.
Several sailors had gathered around a picnic table for a game of cards.
And from the barbecue station came the unmistakable smell of onions, chicken, and something that Eliza insisted would taste considerably better if everyone stopped lifting the lids to check on it.
Kade breathed in.
Then smiled faintly.
”Not bad.”
He wore a light short-sleeved shirt, dark shorts, and sandals. A folded towel rested over one shoulder, and he carried a paperback in one hand.
That was the extent of his recreational equipment.
He did not bring a clipboard.
He did not bring a radio.
He did not bring a stack of personnel reports.
Those items had been deliberately left behind.
Mara Fenwick had made certain of it.
In fact, she had intercepted him outside his quarters that morning and demanded to see his hands.
Kade had regarded her with considerable suspicion.
She’d explained that she was checking for hidden paperwork.
He had informed her that this constituted an unreasonable search.
She had asked whether he wanted to return to the office.
He had immediately surrendered.
Thus, for the first time in several days, Commander Kade Bher approached the beach carrying absolutely nothing related to his responsibilities.
He considered that a triumph.
Then a familiar voice rang out.
”KADE!”
He stopped.
Closed his eyes.
And sighed.
”...Good morning, Aster.”
The Fletcher-class destroyer was sitting beneath a large umbrella near the volleyball court.
She wore the same comfortable red-and-white beach outfit she’d chosen for the earlier festivities, with a light shirt and shorts over her swimsuit. Her healing injury remained properly protected, and a small cushion had been placed behind her back to make sitting more comfortable.
A cold drink rested on the table.
A sun hat sat beside her.
And an expression of extraordinary delight occupied her face.
Emi was seated nearby, wearing a blue swimsuit beneath a loose rash guard.
Mina sat on the other side with her book.
June occupied another shaded chair, still following Irena’s instructions about avoiding strenuous activity.
Calla stood beside the group, apparently discussing the volleyball schedule with one of the Allen M. Sumner-class destroyer girls.
Aster waved energetically.
”OVER HERE!”
Kade looked toward the chair beside her.
It was empty.
It was comfortable-looking.
It was safely beneath the shade.
There was even a small table large enough for his book.
He considered the arrangement.
Then began walking toward it.
Aster grinned.
”See? I told you he’d come!”
Emi smiled.
”He said he might.”
Mina turned a page.
”And now he has.”
June looked toward Kade.
”Good morning, Commander.”
”June.”
Calla nodded.
”Commander.”
”Calla.”
Emi smiled brightly.
”Hi!”
”Good morning, Emi.”
Mina glanced up.
”Enjoying your leave?”
”Immensely.”
He held up his paperback.
”Today’s operational objective is to finish this.”
Mina nodded approvingly.
”Excellent choice.”
Aster leaned forward.
”You’re not just going to read all day, are you?”
Kade slowly looked toward her.
Then toward his book.
Then back.
”...Would that be a crime?”
She grinned.
”Depends.”
He narrowed his eyes.
”On what?”
”Whether you’re having fun.”
Kade considered that.
Then smiled.
”I’m enjoying myself tremendously.”
Aster sighed.
”You’re impossible.”
”Frequently.”
Emi began laughing.
Kade placed his towel over the back of the empty chair, settled beneath the umbrella, and opened his book.
For the next several minutes, the morning proceeded beautifully.
Aster talked with Emi about the previous day’s volleyball games.
Mina read.
June and Calla discussed the increasingly ridiculous rivalry between the battleship girls.
Kade enjoyed the breeze and the welcome absence of emergencies.
Everything was peaceful.
Everything was pleasant.
Nothing seemed capable of ruining it.
Then Riko Minase shouted from the volleyball court.
”SCARLETT! THAT WAS OUT!”
A second voice answered.
”IT HIT THE LINE!”
”IT WAS OUT!”
”THE LINE COUNTS!”
”THAT’S NOT—”
A whistle sounded.
The argument stopped.
Kade lowered his book slightly.
He looked toward the court.
Then sighed.
”Ah.”
Aster grinned.
”Yep.”
He watched Riko fold her arms while Scarlett Hayes pointed toward the painted boundary marker.
A Kitakaze-class girl, serving as scorekeeper, was explaining something to both of them with the patient expression of a woman who had made several unfortunate life choices.
Kade considered the situation.
Then slowly raised his book again.
”Remarkable.”
Aster tilted her head.
”What?”
”Humanity.”
She blinked.
He continued.
”We invented naval artillery, aircraft carriers, advanced metallurgy, and global communications. Yet apparently the greatest unresolved question in civilization is whether a volleyball touched a line.”
Mina began laughing.
June covered her mouth.
Aster stared at him.
Then grinned.
”Oh, don’t pretend you’re better.”
Kade raised an eyebrow.
”Excuse me?”
She leaned back against her cushion.
”You’re probably terrible at volleyball.”
The Commander slowly lowered his book.
Emi looked up.
Mina stopped turning her page.
Calla glanced toward Aster.
June’s expression became suspicious.
Kade stared.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he asked:
”...What?”
Aster smiled sweetly.
”Volleyball.”
He considered that.
Then nodded.
”Yes. A fascinating sport.”
She pointed toward Riko.
”I bet you wouldn’t last five minutes against her.”
The book stopped moving.
Kade narrowed his eyes.
Aster’s grin widened.
Emi slowly turned toward Mina.
Mina slowly closed her book.
June whispered:
”Oh, no.”
Calla looked toward the volleyball court.
Then toward Aster.
For a moment, she seemed to consider intervening.
Then apparently decided that whatever happened next was unlikely to be as dangerous as the previous day’s events.
Kade folded the corner of his page beneath a bookmark.
Very carefully.
Then closed the book.
He looked toward Aster.
She looked back.
Both smiled.
Neither smile was entirely innocent.
”Aster.”
”Yes, Kade?”
”Are you attempting to provoke me?”
The Fletcher-class girl placed one hand against her chest.
”Me?”
”Yes.”
”I would never.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She grinned.
”...Okay, maybe a little.”
Kade considered that.
Then looked toward Riko.
The Yamato-class girl had just argued with Scarlett again.
The scorekeeper blew her whistle.
Riko looked deeply offended.
Kade slowly returned his gaze to Aster.
”You believe I would lose to Riko?”
The destroyer girl’s eyes shone.
”Oh, absolutely.”
A pause.
Then she added:
”Badly.”
Emi covered her mouth.
Mina began smiling.
Kade leaned back.
For several seconds, he appeared to be weighing the matter with all the seriousness normally associated with a major operational decision.
Then he spoke.
”How badly?”
Aster blinked.
”What?”
”How badly do you think I’d lose?”
She considered that.
Then leaned forward.
”Oh, I don’t know.”
Her grin became positively wicked.
”Maybe eleven to nothing?”
Kade stared.
Silence.
Then he slowly rose from his chair.
Aster’s eyes widened.
Emi stopped laughing.
Mina looked up.
June began grinning.
Calla folded her arms.
Kade placed his paperback on the table.
Straightened his shirt.
Then looked toward the volleyball court.
”...Where’s the ball?”
Aster froze.
For a moment, she appeared genuinely surprised that her plan had worked.
Then her expression transformed into pure delight.
”OH, THIS IS GOING TO BE GOOD!”
It took less than ninety seconds for the news to spread.
Commander Kade Bher was going to play volleyball.
Against Riko.
Alone.
The reaction was immediate.
Cassidy Boone emerged from the barbecue area with such enthusiasm that Eliza briefly suspected somebody had announced an emergency.
Zofia and Réka abandoned their sandcastle.
Morgan Reyes sighed and followed them.
Alina Morozova looked up from a conversation with Mira, recognized Cassidy’s expression, and began walking toward the volleyball court before anyone even explained the situation.
Hana stopped discussing maintenance schedules with Tali.
Yuna looked toward the gathering crowd.
Scarlett folded her arms.
And Riko Minase turned to find the station commander approaching her side of the court.
She blinked.
”...Commander?”
Kade stopped beside the net.
”Riko.”
The Yamato-class girl straightened.
”Good morning!”
”Good morning.”
He looked toward the volleyball.
Then toward her.
”Apparently, I’ve been informed that you could defeat me in a match.”
Riko blinked.
For several seconds, she seemed to be processing the statement.
Then her expression brightened.
”Oh!”
Scarlett slowly turned toward Aster.
Aster was grinning.
The South Dakota-class girl narrowed her eyes.
”...What did you do?”
Aster smiled sweetly.
”Nothing.”
Scarlett looked toward Kade.
Then Riko.
Then the growing crowd.
For a moment, she stared.
Then she began laughing.
”Oh, this is going to be beautiful.”
Riko folded her arms.
Her pride was already awakening.
”A match?”
Kade nodded.
”Friendly.”
She smiled.
”Of course!”
Aster immediately shouted:
”RIKO! NO MERCY!”
Calla turned.
”Aster.”
The Fletcher-class girl blinked innocently.
”What?”
”We’re trying to have a recreational game.”
”Exactly!”
Kade slowly looked toward her.
Then sighed.
”You’re enjoying this far too much.”
Aster grinned.
”Yep!”
Riko stepped toward the net.
Her expression became determined.
”All right, Commander.”
She raised one hand.
”You’re on!”
The crowd cheered.
Cassidy raised her handbell.
Morgan immediately caught her wrist.
”No.”
The American looked offended.
”But—”
”No.”
Cassidy sighed.
”...Fine.”
The Kitakaze-class scorekeeper approached with her clipboard.
She examined the two prospective players.
One Yamato-class battleship.
One remarkably short human commander.
Then she looked toward the existing court.
”Full court?”
Kade considered that.
Riko looked toward the boundaries.
Scarlett raised an eyebrow.
The scorekeeper continued.
”For a one-on-one game, I’d recommend narrowing the playing area.”
Kade nodded.
”Reasonable.”
Riko agreed.
”Fine!”
The scorekeeper looked toward the recreation staff.
Within minutes, the volunteers had arranged a shorter, narrower playing space using removable boundary markers. The sand was inspected for debris and leveled where necessary.
There would be no combat equipment.
No rigging.
No special abilities.
No interference from spectators.
Just two people, one net, and a volleyball.
The rules were straightforward.
One-on-one beach volleyball.
Rally scoring.
First to twenty-one points, with a two-point winning margin.
Side changes at agreed intervals to keep the breeze from unfairly favoring either player.
The scorekeeper looked toward both competitors.
”Any questions?”
Riko shook her head.
”No!”
Kade raised one hand.
”Yes.”
The scorekeeper turned.
”Commander?”
He pointed toward Aster.
”Is she allowed to provide commentary?”
Aster gasped.
”HEY!”
The scorekeeper considered that.
Then answered:
”From her chair, provided she doesn’t interfere.”
Kade closed his eyes.
”...Of course.”
Cassidy began laughing.
Riko grinned.
And the match was ready to begin.
The Commander Makes a Very Unreasonable First Impression
Riko won the opening coin toss.
Naturally, she chose to serve.
The Yamato-class girl bounced the volleyball against the sand twice, rolled her shoulders, and glanced toward the opposite side of the net.
Kade stood with his knees slightly bent and his hands resting loosely in front of him.
He wasn’t particularly intimidating.
At least not in the ordinary sense.
He was short.
Compact.
Wearing beach clothes.
And possessing the same faintly sarcastic expression he wore whenever Corwin presented him with a particularly offensive requisition.
Riko regarded him.
Then smiled confidently.
”Ready, Commander?”
Kade nodded.
”Whenever you are.”
She grinned.
”Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Aster raised both hands from her chair.
”GO, RIKO!”
The scorekeeper blew the whistle.
Riko served.
It was a good serve.
Strong.
Clean.
A little higher than necessary, but delivered with enough force that several spectators immediately appreciated why the girl found battleship analogies so appealing.
The ball crossed the net.
Kade watched it.
Shifted two steps.
And received it with a controlled forearm pass.
The return wasn’t spectacular.
No acrobatics.
No dramatic leap.
Just an economical movement that sent the volleyball back over the net toward the front corner of Riko’s court.
Riko blinked.
”Oh!”
She lunged forward.
Too late.
The ball landed.
The scorekeeper raised one hand.
”Point. Commander.”
Silence.
Then Aster blinked.
”...Huh?”
Kade straightened.
He looked toward Riko.
Then smiled politely.
”One.”
The Yamato-class girl stared at the ball.
For a moment, she seemed genuinely confused.
Then she laughed.
”Okay!”
She picked it up.
”That was pretty good!”
Kade nodded.
”Thank you.”
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The ball was passed back to him for the next serve.
He examined it.
Turned it once between his hands.
Then stepped behind the line.
Aster leaned forward.
Emi smiled.
Mina’s expression became thoughtful.
Scarlett folded her arms.
Cassidy grinned.
”Come on, Commander!”
Kade looked toward her.
”Boone.”
The American raised both hands.
”Just supporting the troops!”
”How reassuring.”
He served.
Not particularly hard.
In fact, compared with Riko’s first attempt, the serve looked almost disappointing.
It traveled in a shallow arc toward the far corner.
Riko moved to receive it.
Then hesitated.
She’d expected more power.
The ball dropped sooner than she anticipated.
Her feet tangled briefly in the sand as she tried to correct.
She reached.
Missed.
The volleyball struck the boundary line.
The scorekeeper raised one hand.
”Point. Commander.”
Aster slowly sat upright.
Riko stared.
Kade smiled.
”Two.”
Scarlett’s lips twitched.
”Oh.”
Riko turned.
”What?”
The South Dakota-class girl slowly smiled.
”Nothing.”
The Yamato-class girl frowned.
Kade prepared his next serve.
This time, Riko crouched lower.
She was ready.
Absolutely ready.
She tracked the ball carefully.
Watched the Commander’s shoulder.
Then moved toward the expected trajectory.
Unfortunately, Kade didn’t send it where she expected.
He aimed toward the opposite corner.
Not with extraordinary strength.
Not with a particularly beautiful technique.
Simply with enough accuracy to make Riko move in the wrong direction.
The ball bounced.
The scorekeeper raised her hand.
”Three-zero.”
Riko froze.
The crowd became very quiet.
Then Cassidy whispered:
”...Oh, that’s mean.”
Morgan began smiling.
Aster slowly turned toward Mina.
The younger cruiser looked back.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Aster whispered:
”He’s actually good.”
Mina nodded.
”Apparently.”
Emi covered her mouth.
June raised an eyebrow.
Calla looked toward Kade.
Her expression became interested.
It wasn’t the power that stood out.
It was his positioning.
He never seemed to start moving after the ball crossed the net.
He moved as Riko committed to a strike.
His feet adjusted before the trajectory became obvious to everyone else.
And he wasted very little movement.
Calla had spent enough time teaching naval maneuvering to recognize an analogous habit.
Kade was reading what his opponent intended to do before the action was complete.
She folded her arms.
”Interesting.”
Elsa, standing beside her, nodded.
”Very.”
On the opposite side of the net, Riko took a deep breath.
Then smiled.
”Okay!”
She bounced lightly on her feet.
”Okay, Commander! I see how it is!”
Kade raised an eyebrow.
”Do you?”
She pointed toward him.
”You’re sneaky!”
He considered that.
Then nodded solemnly.
”Devastating accusation.”
Several people laughed.
Riko narrowed her eyes.
The game resumed.
And things became considerably worse for the Yamato-class battleship.
At four-zero, Kade managed another short return.
Riko arrived too late.
At five-zero, she finally struck the ball cleanly and sent it toward his back corner.
He scrambled, reached it by a narrow margin, and sent a looping return toward the net.
Riko rushed forward.
Too far.
The ball dropped behind her.
Six-zero.
At seven-zero, she looked ready to begin arguing with the laws of physics.
Scarlett was laughing openly.
Cassidy had surrendered any pretense of impartiality.
Aster sat with both hands over her mouth.
She had expected Kade to lose.
Possibly badly.
That had been the entire purpose of the taunt.
It was supposed to be funny.
Kade would grumble.
Riko would win.
Everyone would laugh.
And perhaps the Commander would discover that participating in beach activities wasn’t so terrible after all.
Instead, the five-foot-three Commander had apparently decided to conduct a demonstration on the subject of why predictable movement was a dreadful idea.
Riko finally won her first point after a powerful return forced him into an awkward recovery.
The crowd cheered.
The Yamato-class girl raised both arms.
”YES!”
Kade nodded.
”Good shot.”
She grinned.
”THANK YOU!”
The scorekeeper marked the point.
7–1.
Then Kade won the next two rallies.
9–1.
Silence settled over the court.
Aster stared.
Emi slowly leaned toward her.
”...Aster?”
The Fletcher-class girl turned.
”Yes?”
”Didn’t you say he wouldn’t last five minutes?”
Aster looked toward the scoreboard.
Then toward Riko.
Then toward Kade.
A long silence followed.
Finally, she whispered:
”...I may have miscalculated.”
Mina began laughing.
June leaned back in her chair.
”Oh, this is wonderful.”
Scarlett crossed her arms.
Her expression was absolutely delighted.
”Riko!”
The Yamato-class girl turned.
”WHAT?”
The South Dakota-class girl grinned.
”YOU’RE LOSING TO A MAN WHO’S SHORTER THAN THE NET!”
Riko’s face turned bright red.
”SCARLETT!”
Kade slowly looked toward the net.
Then toward his own height.
He considered that.
Then smiled.
”I would like to file an objection to that description.”
Scarlett raised an eyebrow.
”On what grounds?”
”Defamation.”
Cassidy collapsed into laughter.
Even the scorekeeper had to lower her clipboard for a moment.
Riko stood behind her line, holding the ball.
For several seconds, she simply stared at the Commander.
Then she looked toward the scoreboard.
Nine to one.
Nine.
To one.
The Yamato-class girl took a slow breath.
Then another.
The smile faded from her face.
Not because she was angry.
Not exactly.
She was embarrassed, certainly.
She’d been showing off.
She’d assumed a short commander who spent most of his day managing reports would be easy to defeat.
And she’d paid for that assumption.
But beneath the embarrassment, something else began stirring.
Determination.
The same determination that had made her struggle through the cumbersome Mk. I Yamato-class training equipment when her stabilizers refused to cooperate.
The same stubbornness that had kept her studying complicated gunnery procedures long after everyone else was exhausted.
The same pride that had made her insist, even after the Burnt Narrows, that she could learn to handle her enormous naval machinery properly.
She looked at Kade.
Really looked.
He wasn’t doing anything impossible.
He wasn’t leaping across the court or striking the ball with extraordinary power.
He was placing it.
Waiting.
Watching.
Making her run.
And she was letting him.
Riko slowly lowered the ball.
Then closed her eyes for a moment.
Stop chasing.
She remembered her instructor’s voice.
Stop reacting to where something was. Pay attention to where it’s going to be.
She opened her eyes.
Her expression changed.
Scarlett noticed immediately.
The South Dakota-class girl stopped laughing.
Then smiled faintly.
”Oh.”
Beside her, Adelheid folded her arms.
”Finally.”
Nadya nodded.
”She’s thinking.”
Marina smiled gently.
Kade watched Riko reset her stance.
He noticed the change too.
Her feet were farther apart.
Her knees bent.
Her shoulders relaxed.
And she was no longer staring at the ball as though she could frighten it into landing somewhere convenient.
He smiled faintly.
”Ready?”
Riko nodded.
Her voice was quieter now.
”Ready.”
The scorekeeper blew the whistle.
And the real match began.
The Yamato Class Is Not Built to Surrender
Riko’s next serve was nothing like her earlier attempts.
It was slower.
More controlled.
Placed toward the center of Kade’s court rather than blasted toward a corner.
He received it easily enough.
Then sent a short return toward the net.
The same trick that had earned him several points already.
Riko moved forward.
But this time, she didn’t panic.
She didn’t lunge blindly.
She’d anticipated the possibility.
Her feet dug into the sand.
She reached the ball with enough time to send it high over the net.
Kade shifted back.
Received.
Returned.
Riko moved again.
The rally continued.
Three exchanges.
Four.
Five.
The crowd grew quieter.
For the first time, the Yamato-class girl wasn’t being dragged around the court by the Commander’s choices.
She was making choices of her own.
Kade sent another angled shot toward the sideline.
Riko adjusted.
Reached it.
And returned the ball toward the opposite corner.
He pivoted.
Too late.
The ball struck the sand.
The whistle sounded.
”Point. Riko.”
A cheer rose from the spectators.
Riko straightened.
She looked toward Kade.
Then grinned.
”Got you.”
He nodded.
”Yes.”
His smile widened slightly.
”You did.”
The scoreboard changed.
9–2.
Aster leaned forward.
”Oh?”
Scarlett folded her arms.
”There she is.”
Riko retrieved the ball.
Then served again.
This time, she didn’t simply rely on strength.
She aimed.
Kade moved.
Received.
Returned.
Riko followed.
And the rally became an actual contest.
By the time the score reached twelve to four, everyone watching had begun to understand what was happening.
Kade possessed excellent timing.
He was remarkably difficult to surprise.
His footwork was economical, his reactions sharp, and he seemed unusually comfortable adapting to sudden changes.
But he wasn’t a trained volleyball specialist.
He knew the basics.
He could serve.
He could receive.
He could position the ball.
And his reflexes allowed him to compensate for a great many shortcomings.
Yet his technique had limitations.
He couldn’t generate the same force as Riko.
His shorter reach made certain returns difficult.
And every time he changed direction in the loose sand, he had to spend more effort than he would on firm ground.
Riko was discovering those limitations.
Carefully.
Patiently.
She was also discovering something about herself.
When she stopped trying to win every exchange through strength alone, she became considerably more effective.
She started placing her serves deliberately.
She learned not to overcommit toward the front of the court.
She watched Kade’s shoulders.
His stance.
The subtle shift in his weight before a return.
And when he tried to lure her into chasing another short ball, she anticipated it.
The result was a series of increasingly impressive rallies.
Kade still won points.
Several of them.
But Riko began winning more.
At fourteen to nine, she scored with a beautifully controlled return that landed just inside the far corner.
At fifteen to eleven, she intercepted another one of Kade’s short placements and sent the ball past him before he could recover.
At sixteen to thirteen, she surprised him with a serve that floated awkwardly in the crosswind.
He reached it.
Barely.
But his return went out.
The scorekeeper blew her whistle.
”Point. Riko.”
Aster cheered.
”YES!”
Then she turned toward Kade.
”COME ON, COMMANDER!”
He looked at her.
For a moment, he seemed confused.
Then he raised an eyebrow.
”I thought you were supporting Riko.”
Aster grinned.
”I’M SUPPORTING THE GAME!”
Cassidy nodded solemnly.
”Very noble.”
Morgan sighed.
”Of course.”
Aster leaned forward.
Her smile became wicked again.
”Besides, I can’t let you lose too easily.”
Kade stared.
For several seconds, he seemed to be considering whether Aster had always been this much trouble.
Then he sighed.
”You’re a menace.”
She beamed.
”THANK YOU!”
He shook his head.
And returned to the game.
At sixteen to fifteen, the match had become close enough that the scorekeeper asked everyone to stop shouting during serves.
This was, in hindsight, an ambitious request.
Cassidy attempted to comply.
For approximately eight seconds.
Then Riko intercepted a difficult return and sent the volleyball high toward the back of Kade’s court.
He ran.
The sand shifted.
He reached the ball just before it dropped and managed a desperate one-armed return.
It floated over the net.
Riko was already moving.
She received it.
Adjusted her stance.
Then sent a controlled shot into the open corner.
The ball landed.
The whistle sounded.
”Point. Riko.”
16–16.
The beach erupted.
Aster raised both hands.
”THE COMEBACK!”
Scarlett grinned.
”ABOUT TIME!”
Riko stood with her hands on her knees, breathing hard.
Then she looked toward Kade.
The Commander was also catching his breath.
His shirt clung slightly to his back, and grains of sand had collected along his calves.
He looked at the scoreboard.
Then toward Riko.
A small smile appeared.
”Well.”
The Yamato-class girl straightened.
”Well?”
He nodded toward the numbers.
”Seems I’ve created a problem.”
Riko grinned.
”A big one.”
Kade raised an eyebrow.
”Confident.”
She nodded.
”Very.”
He smiled.
”Good.”
For a moment, they stood on opposite sides of the net.
Neither looked particularly concerned with the crowd anymore.
The match had become something much simpler.
Two people trying to outplay each other.
No naval ranks.
No battleship displacement.
No gunnery calibers.
No command responsibility.
Just a game.
And both of them were having fun.
At eighteen to eighteen, Scarlett leaned toward Adelheid.
”She’s doing it.”
The Bayern-class girl nodded.
”She is.”
Nadya smiled faintly.
”Took her long enough.”
Marina watched Riko move across the sand.
There was something quietly satisfying about the sight.
Riko’s confidence had always been enormous.
Her skill had been catching up ever since she’d arrived at Horizon.
Now, in a harmless game under a bright tropical sky, the same lesson her instructors had been trying to teach her was finally becoming visible.
Power was useful.
Determination was useful.
But judgment mattered.
And so did restraint.
Across the court, Kade was beginning to notice something else.
Riko had learned his habits.
He’d enjoyed a substantial advantage early because she was predictable.
Now she was adjusting.
She no longer rushed toward every obvious opportunity.
She was reading his movements.
And she possessed the endurance and reach to punish him when he made a mistake.
He considered that.
Then smiled faintly.
Good.
He’d always appreciated an opponent who could learn.
Especially one who was doing so without anyone getting hurt.
The next rally began.
Riko served.
Kade returned.
Riko moved.
The ball crossed the net again.
He attempted another short placement.
She anticipated it.
He changed direction.
She adjusted.
The exchange continued until both players were moving hard enough that the crowd fell briefly silent.
Then Kade sent a return toward her back line.
Riko ran.
Reached.
And managed an awkward but legal pass.
The ball sailed over the net.
It wasn’t elegant.
It wasn’t even particularly pretty.
But it landed.
Kade arrived half a step late.
The whistle sounded.
”Point. Riko.”
18–19.
The Yamato-class girl straightened.
For a moment, she stared at the scoreboard.
Then her eyes widened.
She was ahead.
For the first time since the opening serve.
Aster leaped halfway out of her chair.
”RIKO!”
Irena’s voice sounded immediately.
”Aster.”
The Fletcher-class girl dropped back onto her cushion.
”...SEATED ENTHUSIASM!”
Several people began laughing.
Riko grinned.
Kade shook his head.
Then took his position again.
The Commander wasn’t finished.
Not yet.
Twenty-Twenty
The final minutes of the match were, according to Cassidy Boone, the greatest sporting event in the history of Horizon Atoll.
Morgan disputed this assessment.
Partly because the naval station’s history was considerably longer than the three days Cassidy had spent trying to organize beach competitions.
And partly because Cassidy had made the exact same claim about the sandcastle contest that morning.
Nevertheless, the atmosphere was extraordinary.
The crowd had grown to include several off-duty sailors, station technicians, most of the nearby Keelborn, and a substantial portion of VESPER.
Yuna stood beneath an umbrella with a few of her fairy crew members perched on the raised recreation table.
Hana had abandoned her cold drink to watch the match.
Tali appeared fascinated by the way Riko’s movement had improved over the course of the game.
Mira watched with the expression of a professional instructor who was enjoying a rare opportunity to observe training principles being demonstrated without anyone holding a weapon.
Even Eliza had stepped away from the barbecue long enough to see what the shouting was about.
The score stood at eighteen to nineteen.
Riko was ahead by one.
Kade received the next serve and returned it toward the far side of the court.
Riko moved smoothly.
She’d learned that trick already.
She sent the ball back.
Kade adjusted.
His feet dug into the sand as he tracked the return.
For a moment, it looked as though he was preparing to send another short shot toward the net.
Riko moved forward.
Then stopped.
She’d seen the subtle change in his shoulder.
Too late.
Kade struck the ball toward the back corner instead.
Riko turned.
Ran.
Reached.
But the ball landed just beyond her fingertips.
The whistle sounded.
”Point. Commander.”
19–19.
The crowd roared.
Aster clapped.
”YES!”
Then she looked toward Riko.
”COME ON!”
Kade straightened.
He took a breath.
Then looked toward his opponent.
”Still with me?”
The Yamato-class girl grinned.
”Obviously!”
He smiled.
”Good.”
The following rally belonged to Riko.
She opened with a controlled serve, received Kade’s return, and waited just long enough for him to commit toward one corner.
Then she sent the ball in the opposite direction.
He lunged.
His fingertips brushed it.
Not enough.
The volleyball struck the sand.
”Point. Riko.”
19–20.
Match point.
Riko stared at the scoreboard.
Then slowly turned toward Kade.
Her grin widened.
The Commander raised an eyebrow.
”Something on your mind?”
She pointed toward the numbers.
”One more!”
He nodded.
”So it would seem.”
Aster leaned forward.
Her excitement had become almost unbearable.
Emi was gripping the edge of her chair.
Mina had completely forgotten about her book.
Scarlett stood with her arms folded, smiling despite herself.
Adelheid nodded approvingly.
Nadya watched with obvious satisfaction.
The scorekeeper blew her whistle.
Riko served.
It was a clean strike.
Not excessively powerful.
Not careless.
Placed well.
Kade received it.
Then returned the ball in a shallow arc.
Riko moved forward.
The ball passed the net.
She sent it back.
Kade adjusted.
Then, with a controlled touch, placed the ball near the opposite sideline.
Riko tried to recover.
Her foot sank slightly into the sand.
She reached.
Missed.
The ball landed.
The whistle sounded.
”Point. Commander.”
20–20.
Silence.
Then the beach erupted again.
Cassidy raised both hands.
”DEUCE!”
Morgan turned toward her.
”That’s tennis.”
The American blinked.
Then shrugged.
”IT’S CLOSE ENOUGH!”
The scorekeeper lowered her clipboard.
”Two-point margin required.”
Kade nodded.
Riko nodded.
Neither complained.
Both were breathing hard now.
The game had become considerably more demanding than either had expected.
Kade rolled his shoulders.
His forearms were beginning to ache from repeated receives, and his calves were discovering just how unpleasant it could be to change direction in loose sand for an extended period.
He could fight.
He could run.
He could endure pain.
He knew how to read an opponent.
But none of those things exempted him from the ordinary difficulties of playing volleyball on a beach.
His timing was good.
His technique was improvised.
And Riko was no longer making the mistakes that had allowed him to control the opening.
He looked toward her.
She was smiling.
Not the careless, overconfident grin from the beginning.
A focused smile.
One born from effort.
He returned it.
”Ready?”
Riko nodded.
”Ready!”
The next serve came from Kade.
He aimed toward the far corner.
Riko received it.
The ball rose high.
She moved beneath it.
Kade watched her shoulders.
Expected the return.
Shifted.
Then realized something.
She wasn’t going for the corner he’d anticipated.
She was waiting.
Just a fraction of a second.
Long enough to see where he intended to move.
The thought barely formed before she struck.
A clean, controlled return toward the space he’d just abandoned.
Kade stopped.
Turned.
Reached.
Too late.
The ball landed.
”Point. Riko.”
20–21.
Aster clapped so enthusiastically that Emi began laughing beside her.
Scarlett grinned.
”THERE YOU GO!”
Riko straightened.
She looked toward the scoreboard.
Then toward Kade.
For a moment, she seemed almost astonished.
He nodded approvingly.
”Very nice.”
The Yamato-class girl’s expression brightened.
”Thank you!”
Then she caught herself.
Her smile became determined again.
One more.
Just one more.
She took the ball.
Stepped behind the service line.
And breathed.
The beach fell gradually quiet.
Aster sat perfectly still.
Yuna leaned forward slightly.
Mina lowered her hands.
Even Cassidy stopped talking.
The breeze stirred the boundary tape.
Beyond the court, the Pacific glittered beneath the afternoon sun.
Riko glanced toward Kade.
He stood ready.
Knees bent.
Weight balanced.
Watching.
The Yamato-class girl tightened her grip on the ball.
She thought about every mistake she’d made at the beginning.
Every time she’d chased instead of anticipated.
Every time she’d relied on force instead of placement.
Every time her pride had convinced her that she didn’t need to stop and think.
Then she smiled faintly.
And served.
The ball crossed the net.
Kade moved.
Received it cleanly.
Returned it toward the center.
Riko adjusted.
Sent it back.
He shifted left.
She anticipated.
The ball crossed again.
Then again.
Four exchanges.
Five.
Six.
The crowd remained quiet.
Kade made a quick return toward the front of the court.
Riko reached it.
She sent the ball high.
He moved backward.
Caught the trajectory.
Returned it toward her left.
Riko pivoted.
Her feet held.
She reached the ball with enough control to keep it in play.
Kade moved toward the center, anticipating another angled return.
And Riko saw the opening.
She didn’t swing as hard as she could.
She didn’t try to overwhelm him.
She simply changed the angle of her body.
Set her feet.
And sent the ball toward the far corner.
The volleyball sailed over the net.
Kade turned.
He saw the placement.
He knew where it would land.
But knowing wasn’t the same as arriving.
His foot dug into the sand.
He lunged.
His hand stretched toward the ball.
For one brief instant, his fingertips came heartbreakingly close.
Then—
Thump.
The volleyball struck the sand.
Inside the line.
Cleanly.
The whistle sounded.
”Point. Riko.”
A pause.
Then the scorekeeper raised her hand.
”Game!”
Kade
20
Riko
22
Winner — Riko Minase
For one extraordinary second, the entire beach stood still.
Then—
”YEEEEEEEEES!”
Riko threw both hands into the air.
”HAHA! I WON!”
A roar of cheering followed.
Aster clapped wildly.
”RIKO!”
Emi raised both hands.
Mina began laughing.
Cassidy shouted something about the greatest comeback in naval history.
Scarlett folded her arms, looking impossibly pleased.
”Finally!”
Nadya began applauding.
Adelheid nodded with approval.
Even the Kitakaze-class scorekeeper allowed herself a small smile.
Riko stood in the center of her court, breathing hard, sand clinging to her legs, face bright with excitement.
Then she looked toward Kade.
For a moment, her grin faltered.
The Commander was standing on his side of the net.
Hands resting on his knees.
Catching his breath.
He’d lost.
Riko blinked.
Then, suddenly, she looked uncertain.
”...Commander?”
Kade straightened.
He looked toward the scoreboard.
Then back at her.
A smile spread across his face.
”Well played.”
Riko stared.
He approached the net.
Held out his hand.
”Good game.”
For several seconds, she didn’t move.
Then her expression brightened.
A huge smile appeared.
She took his hand.
”THANK YOU!”
Kade laughed.
”You’re welcome.”
Riko grinned.
”I WON!”
”Yes.”
”I ACTUALLY WON!”
”Very convincingly, in the end.”
She looked toward the scoreboard again.
Then back.
Her voice became softer.
”...You were really hard to beat.”
Kade considered that.
Then smiled.
”So were you.”
Riko blinked.
For a moment, she seemed strangely touched.
Then she straightened proudly.
”Of course!”
Scarlett groaned.
”Oh, no.”
Riko turned.
”What?”
The South Dakota-class girl pointed toward her.
”Don’t let it go to your head.”
Riko grinned.
”Too late!”
Aster burst out laughing.
Kade slowly shook his head.
Then looked toward Scarlett.
”I believe we’ve created a monster.”
The battleship girl sighed.
”She’s been like this for weeks.”
Riko folded her arms.
”I CAN HEAR YOU!”
Kade smiled.
”Good. Saves me repeating it.”
The entire court erupted again.
Aster watched the exchange from her shaded chair.
For a moment, she couldn’t stop smiling.
Kade had lost.
Riko had won.
The Commander didn’t seem remotely bothered.
In fact, he looked happier than she’d seen him in days.
His hair was a mess.
His shirt was damp.
Sand clung to his ankles.
And he was standing beside a thoroughly delighted battleship girl, laughing about a volleyball game.
Aster leaned back.
Her grin became softer.
Emi looked toward her.
”Happy?”
Aster nodded.
”Yep.”
The Benson-class girl smiled.
”You started this.”
”I know.”
Mina raised an eyebrow.
”That could have gone terribly.”
Aster considered that.
Then looked toward Riko.
The Yamato-class girl was already explaining the final rally to Scarlett in extraordinary detail.
Scarlett looked as though she was preparing to regret congratulating her.
Aster began laughing.
”Maybe.”
June smiled.
”But it didn’t.”
Calla nodded.
”She earned that win.”
Aster’s expression softened.
”Yeah.”
Then she looked toward Kade.
He was talking with Riko again.
Still smiling.
Aster folded her arms.
A deeply satisfied expression appeared.
”And he had fun.”
Emi nodded.
”He did.”
The Fletcher-class girl leaned back against her cushion.
Then grinned.
”Mission accomplished.”
Mina laughed.
”Again?”
Aster smiled sweetly.
”Again.”
Losing Is Much More Pleasant When Nobody Dies
Kade discovered several things after the match.
First, loose sand was an extremely effective method of revealing muscles that had not been used recently.
Second, an ordinary volleyball could produce a surprising amount of soreness when repeatedly struck with one’s forearms.
And third, Riko Minase possessed the ability to explain a single successful rally for considerably longer than the rally itself had lasted.
He sat beneath an umbrella with a bottle of cold water resting between his hands.
Riko stood nearby.
She was still talking.
”...And then I saw you move toward the middle, right? So I thought, wait, if he’s going there, then I can put it over there instead!”
She pointed toward an imaginary corner.
Kade nodded.
”Yes.”
”And I didn’t try to hit it as hard as possible!”
”An excellent decision.”
”Because that would’ve been stupid!”
Scarlett, sitting on the opposite side of the table, slowly raised an eyebrow.
”You’re learning.”
Riko turned.
”I’VE BEEN LEARNING!”
Scarlett smiled.
”Clearly.”
The Yamato-class girl folded her arms.
For a moment, she seemed prepared to argue.
Then she stopped.
Considered the response.
And smiled.
”Yeah.”
Scarlett blinked.
Riko nodded proudly.
”I have.”
The South Dakota-class girl’s expression softened.
For a moment, she looked at the younger battleship.
Then smiled faintly.
”Yes, you have.”
Kade watched the exchange.
He didn’t interrupt.
There was something quietly satisfying about it.
He’d seen Riko struggle during training.
Seen her confidence outrun her skill.
Seen her nearly exhaust herself trying to compensate for unfamiliar equipment through sheer determination.
The volleyball match hadn’t solved all of that.
Of course not.
But she’d done something important.
She’d recognized a mistake.
Changed her approach.
And won because of it.
That was worth celebrating.
Kade took another drink.
Then looked toward Riko.
”You know.”
She turned.
”Yes?”
He nodded toward the court.
”That final shot was very good.”
Her eyes widened.
”Really?”
”Really.”
She grinned.
”Thank you!”
He smiled faintly.
”And your patience improved enormously.”
Riko considered that.
Then nodded.
”I remembered what the instructors kept saying.”
Scarlett smiled.
”Imagine that.”
Riko turned.
”SCARLETT!”
Kade laughed.
Then leaned back.
For several minutes, he allowed the girls to argue without attempting to intervene.
It was, he decided, a wonderfully restful activity.
A little later, Aster approached.
Very slowly.
Not because she lacked enthusiasm.
Because Irena had been watching her since the opening minutes of the match, and the Fletcher-class girl had reluctantly concluded that attempting to sprint across the sand would probably result in another lengthy medical lecture.
She stopped beside Kade’s chair.
Folded her arms.
And smiled.
”Well.”
Kade looked up.
”Aster.”
She grinned.
”So.”
He raised an eyebrow.
”So?”
”You lost.”
He nodded.
”Yes.”
She blinked.
For a moment, she seemed to be waiting for something.
A complaint.
An excuse.
A declaration that the match had been unfair.
Perhaps a long explanation concerning the natural athletic advantages of girls who routinely operated battleship equipment.
None arrived.
Kade took another drink.
Aster tilted her head.
”...You’re not upset?”
He looked toward her.
”Should I be?”
She blinked.
”Well, no, but...”
He smiled faintly.
”But?”
”You were winning!”
”At the beginning.”
”By a lot!”
”Yes.”
”And then she beat you!”
”Correct.”
Aster stared.
Kade considered her expression.
Then raised an eyebrow.
”Are you explaining the concept of a sporting competition to me?”
Emi began laughing from the neighboring chair.
Mina covered her mouth.
Aster looked offended.
”NO!”
”Excellent. I was worried.”
She folded her arms more tightly.
”You’re such a menace.”
Kade smiled.
”Frequently.”
For several seconds, she regarded him.
Then her expression softened.
”Did you have fun?”
He considered that.
Then nodded.
”Yes.”
Aster smiled.
”Really?”
”Really.”
He looked toward Riko, who was still describing the final rally to anyone willing to listen.
”She’s good.”
Aster nodded.
”Yeah.”
”Much better once she stopped trying to murder the volleyball.”
The Fletcher-class girl burst out laughing.
Kade smiled.
Then added:
”Besides, it was a good match.”
She sat in the neighboring chair.
For a moment, she simply watched him.
Then she grinned.
”Would you play again?”
Kade slowly turned.
The smile vanished from his face.
Aster’s grin widened.
He stared.
She stared back.
A long silence followed.
Then Kade sighed.
”Aster.”
”Yes?”
”I have just finished being chased around a patch of sand by a Yamato-class battleship.”
She nodded solemnly.
”Very impressive.”
”My legs hurt.”
”Understandable.”
”My arms hurt.”
”Tragic.”
”And I have no intention of spending the next hour discovering additional muscles.”
Aster covered her mouth.
Kade folded his arms.
”Therefore, my answer is no.”
She considered that.
Then smiled sweetly.
”...Tomorrow?”
He closed his eyes.
”Oh, good grief.”
Emi burst out laughing.
Mina lowered her book.
June, listening from nearby, began laughing too.
Aster grinned.
”Come on!”
Kade opened one eye.
He looked toward her.
Then sighed.
”You’re never going to stop, are you?”
She considered that.
Then shook her head.
”Nope.”
The Commander slowly leaned back.
For a moment, he stared toward the ocean.
Then a small smile appeared.
”Fair enough.”
Aster blinked.
She hadn’t expected that answer.
Then her expression softened.
She looked toward the court.
Riko was laughing with Scarlett.
Several of the destroyer girls had already begun setting up another match.
The air smelled of grilled food.
The breeze was gentle.
And Kade was sitting beside her, looking thoroughly exhausted and entirely content.
Aster smiled.
”Hey, Kade?”
He glanced over.
”Yes?”
”Thanks for playing.”
He looked toward her.
Then nodded.
”You’re welcome.”
A pause.
Then he added:
”But you started this.”
She grinned.
”I know.”
He narrowed his eyes.
”And I will remember.”
Aster burst out laughing.
”GOOD!”
Kade sighed.
Somehow, he suspected that was precisely the response she’d been hoping for.
An Afternoon That Belonged to Nobody’s Schedule
By midafternoon, the excitement surrounding the match had gradually faded into the pleasant disorder of an ordinary beach day.
Or what Horizon Atoll considered ordinary, anyway.
Riko’s victory remained the subject of several conversations.
Scarlett had congratulated her.
Twice.
The first time had been sincere.
The second time had followed Riko’s seventh retelling of the final point, at which Scarlett had informed her that if she explained the same rally one more time, the entire South Dakota class would be requesting diplomatic asylum.
Riko had laughed.
Then promptly explained the rally to Nadya instead.
Nadya listened with the easy patience of someone who had witnessed a great many battleship girls become entirely too pleased with themselves.
Adelheid offered a few observations about footwork.
Marina contributed some encouragement.
The conversation eventually became an impromptu discussion of how different people adjusted to the same playing surface.
Nobody mentioned gunnery.
At least not for several minutes.
Then Riko compared one of her returns to correcting a long-range firing solution.
Scarlett closed her eyes.
”Riko.”
The Yamato-class girl looked up.
”What?”
”It’s volleyball.”
”I KNOW!”
”Then stop calling the ball a target.”
Riko considered the instruction.
Then slowly smiled.
”...But technically—”
”Riko.”
The younger battleship laughed.
And the conversation continued.
At the barbecue area, Eliza had begun serving the afternoon meal.
The day’s menu included grilled chicken, seasoned potatoes, fresh vegetables, and the last of a carefully rationed batch of hamburger patties that had been set aside specifically for recreational use.
The recent supply flight had made some of the fresh ingredients possible.
Corwin Hale had approved the allocation after a discussion involving inventory records, nutritional requirements, and Eliza’s insistence that sailors were considerably more cooperative when properly fed.
He’d eventually agreed.
Now he stood beside a picnic table with a plate of food, watching people laugh beneath the umbrellas.
Eliza approached.
”Well?”
He looked toward her.
”Well what?”
She gestured toward the beach.
”Was it worth it?”
Corwin considered the question.
Then glanced toward the volleyball court.
Several off-duty technicians were helping the Keelborn rearrange the net.
Riko was still smiling.
Aster sat beside Kade.
The surviving fairy crews were enjoying their miniature recreational area.
And the station’s personnel looked, for once, as though they’d forgotten the exact number of incomplete maintenance requests waiting for them.
Corwin nodded slowly.
”Yes.”
Eliza smiled.
”Good.”
He took another bite.
Then added:
”Though the food allocation was still expensive.”
She laughed.
”Of course it was.”
”Fresh produce doesn’t appear out of nowhere.”
”Neither does morale.”
Corwin considered that.
Then sighed.
”Fair point.”
Eliza smiled triumphantly.
The quartermaster pointed his fork toward her.
”Don’t make a habit of winning arguments like that.”
She raised an eyebrow.
”Corwin.”
He looked up.
”Yes?”
”I’ve been winning them for years.”
He stared.
Then began laughing.
Aster and Emi ate beneath their umbrella.
Mina had finally managed to resume reading.
June and Calla were discussing whether the next day should include quieter activities for those who weren’t particularly interested in volleyball.
Elsa was listening while pretending she wasn’t.
And Kade had reached the remarkable stage of the afternoon where nobody expected him to do anything at all.
He sat with a plate balanced comfortably in his lap, eating at a perfectly reasonable pace.
Not hurriedly.
Not while studying documents.
Not with one eye on an operational clock.
Just eating.
He’d forgotten how pleasant that could be.
For a while, he listened to the conversations drifting around him.
Aster was describing the way Riko’s expression had changed when she finally started understanding his playing style.
Emi was talking about her own experiences in the volleyball tournament.
June was offering opinions on the proper responsibilities of a spectator.
Mina occasionally contributed something dry enough to make the others laugh.
Kade let the conversation flow around him.
He didn’t need to direct it.
Didn’t need to make a decision.
Didn’t need to decide whether a repair request was urgent or whether somebody’s training schedule required adjustment.
Occasionally, someone asked him a question.
He answered.
Sometimes politely.
Sometimes sarcastically.
Usually both.
And gradually, he began feeling something he hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
Comfort.
Real comfort.
The sort that settled into a person’s shoulders when they stopped expecting someone to need them urgently.
He leaned back.
Looked toward the ocean.
And sighed.
Aster noticed.
She tilted her head.
”Tired?”
Kade considered that.
Then nodded.
”A little.”
She grinned.
”Because Riko beat you?”
He slowly turned.
For a moment, he stared at her.
Then smiled.
”Yes, Aster. The emotional devastation of losing a recreational volleyball match has left me unable to continue.”
Emi began laughing.
Aster grinned.
”I knew it.”
Kade nodded solemnly.
”Tragic. I’ll require several days of recovery.”
”Doctor’s orders?”
”Commander’s orders.”
June laughed.
Aster folded her arms.
”Very suspicious.”
Kade smiled.
”Extremely.”
Then he set his empty plate aside.
The beach had grown pleasantly warm beneath the afternoon sun.
His arms were tired.
His calves ached.
And the combined effects of exercise, lunch, sea air, and several nights of finally getting enough sleep were beginning to make his eyelids feel unusually heavy.
He looked toward the large beach umbrella beside the picnic area.
A folded blanket lay beneath it.
Nobody was using it.
He considered the arrangement.
Then stood.
Aster looked up.
”Where are you going?”
Kade pointed toward the umbrella.
”Over there.”
She blinked.
”Why?”
”Strategic redeployment.”
Mina smiled faintly.
Aster narrowed her eyes.
”Kade.”
He looked back.
”Aster.”
”Are you taking another nap?”
The Commander considered that.
Then smiled pleasantly.
”Possibly.”
She sighed.
”Again?”
He raised an eyebrow.
”Yes. It’s a revolutionary new recreational activity. I highly recommend it.”
June burst out laughing.
Emi grinned.
Aster looked toward the blanket.
Then back.
For a moment, she seemed prepared to protest.
But then she remembered why Beach Week had been organized in the first place.
Rest.
Not simply entertainment.
Not endless competitions.
Not forcing everybody to participate in the same activities.
Rest.
She smiled.
”Okay.”
Kade blinked.
For a moment, he seemed surprised.
Then he nodded.
”Thank you.”
Aster pointed toward him.
”But you’re coming back tomorrow.”
He sighed.
”We’ll see.”
She grinned.
”I’ll take that.”
Kade shook his head.
Then collected his book and towel.
He walked toward the umbrella, leaving behind a small group of girls who were thoroughly delighted that they’d finally managed to drag him into something resembling a normal social life.
The blanket was surprisingly comfortable.
Kade spread it beneath the umbrella, ensuring that most of the fabric remained in the shade.
He removed his sandals.
Set them neatly beside the edge.
Then lowered himself onto the blanket.
For a moment, he simply sat there.
The sand beneath the fabric was warm.
The breeze moved gently across his face.
Somewhere nearby, waves broke softly against the shore.
The distant volleyball court echoed with laughter.
The sound of people enjoying themselves.
Not fighting.
Not crying out for help.
Not calling for medical personnel.
Just laughing.
Kade looked toward the ocean.
Then smiled faintly.
”Not bad.”
He lay back.
Placed his folded towel beneath his head.
And opened his paperback.
The story was a rather ordinary mystery.
A detective.
Several suspects.
A murder that had occurred in a supposedly locked room.
The author was fond of misleading descriptions, improbable alibis, and characters who insisted they had no reason to lie while behaving in ways that suggested otherwise.
Kade appreciated that.
It was comfortably ridiculous.
The stakes were imaginary.
Nobody actually needed him to solve anything.
He turned a page.
Then another.
The shadows beneath the umbrella shifted slightly as the afternoon progressed.
The breeze cooled his skin.
His breathing slowed.
For a moment, he considered getting another drink.
Then decided he could do that later.
He read another paragraph.
The words began to blur.
He blinked.
Read the sentence again.
Then sighed.
”...Oh, come on.”
He was getting sleepy.
Again.
He considered fighting it.
The thought lasted approximately three seconds.
Then he remembered that he was on leave.
There was absolutely no reason to fight it.
He lowered the book slightly.
Closed his eyes.
And let the sound of the ocean wash over him.
An hour later, Aster discovered the Commander.
Or rather, she discovered a suspiciously familiar pair of sandals beside a blanket.
She was returning from the picnic tables with Emi and Mina when she noticed them beneath the large umbrella.
The sun had moved farther west.
The shade had lengthened across the sand.
A light breeze stirred the edge of the blanket.
Aster stopped.
Then slowly smiled.
”Oh.”
Emi glanced toward her.
”What?”
Aster pointed.
The Benson-class girl followed her gaze.
Then covered her mouth.
Mina leaned closer.
For several seconds, the three stood quietly beneath the edge of the umbrella.
Commander Kade Bher was fast asleep.
He lay on his back with one arm resting loosely beside him and the other across his stomach.
His short brown hair had become thoroughly disheveled during the volleyball match and had not recovered.
His sandals sat neatly beside the blanket.
A half-finished bottle of water rested within reach.
And his paperback book was lying open across his face.
Completely covering it.
The sight was so absurdly peaceful that Aster immediately had to press both hands against her mouth.
Emi’s shoulders shook.
Mina smiled.
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Then Aster whispered:
”...He’s out.”
Emi nodded.
”Completely.”
Mina considered the scene.
Then smiled faintly.
”Well, he did play an entire match.”
Aster grinned.
”And lose.”
Emi nudged her gently.
”Aster.”
The Fletcher-class girl looked offended.
”I’m just saying!”
Mina laughed softly.
Then she looked toward the sleeping Commander.
Her expression became warmer.
”He looks comfortable.”
Aster followed her gaze.
The book remained balanced across Kade’s face.
He didn’t move.
His breathing was slow and even.
For once, there was no sarcastic response waiting for the next person who approached.
No raised eyebrow.
No dry observation.
No warning about unauthorized military operations.
Just a boy sleeping peacefully beneath a beach umbrella.
Aster’s smile softened.
”Yeah.”
She crouched a little, careful not to strain her healing side.
Emi immediately noticed.
”Aster.”
The Fletcher-class girl froze.
Then straightened again.
”...Right.”
Mina quietly moved the nearby folding chair closer.
Aster sat.
Emi sat beside her.
For a while, the three simply watched the beach.
The umbrella’s shadow stretched across the blanket.
The breeze rustled the palms.
The volleyball game continued in the distance.
And Kade slept.
Aster glanced toward him occasionally.
Then smiled to herself.
After everything they’d been through, it seemed almost strange to see him like this.
He was usually so alert.
So observant.
Always listening for the next problem.
Always ready with some annoyingly clever remark.
Even when he wasn’t working, he often seemed to carry a portion of the station’s troubles inside his head.
But now?
Nothing.
He’d played volleyball.
Lost fairly.
Congratulated Riko.
Eaten lunch.
Read his book.
And fallen asleep.
Aster looked toward the sea.
For a moment, her expression became thoughtful.
Then she whispered:
”...Good.”
Emi glanced toward her.
”What?”
Aster smiled.
”Nothing.”
The Benson-class girl considered that.
Then looked toward the Commander.
Her expression softened.
”Yeah.”
Mina returned to her book.
And the three girls settled comfortably beneath the neighboring shade.
Riko arrived several minutes later.
She was carrying a volleyball.
Naturally.
The Yamato-class girl approached the umbrella with the clear intention of asking Kade whether he’d recovered enough for another match.
Then she saw him.
She stopped.
Blinking, she looked toward the blanket.
Then toward Aster.
Then back.
”...Oh.”
Aster raised one finger to her lips.
”Shhh.”
Riko nodded immediately.
Then leaned closer.
The Commander remained asleep.
His book still covered his face.
The battleship girl’s expression softened.
For a moment, she looked almost uncertain.
Then she whispered:
”Did I wear him out?”
Aster considered that.
Then grinned.
”Maybe.”
Riko looked toward the sleeping figure.
Her smile became smaller.
”...I hope he had fun.”
Mina glanced up.
”He did.”
Riko turned.
”Really?”
The younger cruiser nodded.
”He said so.”
The Yamato-class girl’s face brightened.
”Oh!”
Aster smiled.
”He was really impressed with you.”
Riko blinked.
For a moment, she seemed surprised.
Then she looked toward Kade.
Her expression became warm.
”...Really?”
Aster nodded.
”Really.”
The battleship girl looked toward her volleyball.
Then toward the Commander.
For several seconds, she was quiet.
Finally, she smiled.
”Good.”
She placed the ball beneath an empty chair so it wouldn’t roll away.
Then sat down with the others.
For once, she didn’t immediately begin describing the final rally.
She simply watched the sea.
As the afternoon drifted toward evening, more people noticed the sleeping Commander.
Scarlett passed by, took one look at the book balanced across his face, and immediately began laughing.
Silently.
An impressive accomplishment.
Hana approached with Tali, intending to ask whether he wanted another drink.
She stopped upon seeing him.
Then smiled.
Yuna arrived carrying her fairy crew’s miniature recreation supplies.
Several of the fairies spotted Kade.
One immediately raised a hand to salute.
The deck chief gently lowered it.
The Commander was sleeping.
There was no need to disturb him.
Eliza came by later with a pitcher of water.
She noticed the empty bottle beside the blanket and quietly replaced it with a fresh one.
Then she looked toward Aster.
”Has he been asleep long?”
Aster nodded.
”About an hour.”
Eliza smiled.
”Good.”
She looked toward the book.
Then chuckled softly.
”Poor thing.”
Aster grinned.
”Should we move it?”
The cook considered that.
Kade appeared perfectly comfortable.
The book was light.
And there was no reason to risk waking him simply because he’d chosen a slightly unusual method of protecting his face from the sun.
She shook her head.
”Leave him.”
Aster nodded.
”Okay.”
Eliza smiled.
Then returned toward the barbecue.
A few minutes later, Mara Fenwick approached.
The Chief stopped beside the umbrella.
Looked down.
And slowly folded her arms.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
Then she smiled.
Not the knowing smile she wore whenever Kade tried to conceal another excessive workload.
Not the exasperated expression reserved for his more spectacular administrative decisions.
Something gentler.
She’d spent weeks trying to convince the young commander that the entire station didn’t need him awake and available every moment of the day.
Now he was asleep on a beach.
Surrounded by people who were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves for an afternoon.
She looked toward Aster.
The Fletcher-class girl smiled.
Mara nodded.
”Well done.”
Aster blinked.
For a moment, she looked surprised.
Then her expression softened.
”Thanks, Chief.”
Mara glanced toward the Commander again.
Then chuckled.
”And nobody carried him here?”
Aster immediately covered her mouth.
Emi began laughing quietly.
Mina lowered her head.
The Chief raised an eyebrow.
Aster shook her head vigorously.
”No!”
Mara smiled.
”Good.”
Then she looked toward the sleeping figure.
For a moment, she seemed almost tempted to take a photograph.
Almost.
She decided against it.
Kade had endured enough embarrassment for one week.
Instead, she pulled another chair into the shade and sat down.
For a little while, nobody spoke.
They simply enjoyed the breeze.
Beyond the umbrellas, Horizon Atoll continued its day.
Breakwater’s essential repair teams worked through their assigned rotation.
The harbor cranes moved a few necessary loads.
The airfield maintained its readiness.
Security patrols remained alert beyond the recreational perimeter.
In the infirmary, Irena’s colleagues continued caring for the wounded.
Far across the water, dangers still existed.
The Blackwake had not disappeared.
The dead had not returned.
The problems awaiting Horizon were not going to solve themselves.
But on the southern beach, Riko was smiling beside Scarlett.
Aster was laughing quietly with her friends.
Yuna’s surviving fairy crews were preparing to return to their quarters after a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.
Lucía Alvarez sat with several of her brother’s former shipmates, listening to another story about Mateo while occasionally glancing down at the notebook in her hands.
And beneath a large beach umbrella, the Commander of Horizon Atoll slept with a paperback covering his face.
He had lost a volleyball match.
He had eaten a good lunch.
And he had accomplished absolutely nothing of strategic importance for several hours.
It was, Mara Fenwick thought, perhaps the most successful day he’d had since the Crisis.
Aster leaned back in her chair.
For a while, she watched the sunlight glitter across the ocean.
Then she turned toward Kade.
The Commander remained motionless beneath the book.
Completely asleep.
She smiled.
A small, affectionate smile.
”Hey, Kade,” she whispered.
Naturally, he didn’t answer.
Aster didn’t mind.
She looked toward Riko.
Then toward the volleyball court.
Then back.
Her grin returned.
”Next time, I’m making you play Scarlett.”
Emi covered her mouth.
Mina began laughing.
Riko’s eyes widened.
Scarlett, who had just approached with a cold drink, stopped.
Then slowly smiled.
”Oh?”
Aster grinned.
The South Dakota-class girl looked toward the sleeping Commander.
Then toward the volleyball.
A dangerous expression appeared.
”I like that idea.”
Mara slowly closed her eyes.
”...Girls.”
Aster immediately straightened.
”Just kidding!”
Scarlett folded her arms.
”Mostly.”
Mara sighed.
But she was smiling.
Under the umbrella, Kade shifted slightly.
The girls froze.
For a moment, the paperback tilted to one side.
Then settled back across his face.
His breathing remained slow and peaceful.
He did not wake.
Aster waited.
Then leaned back.
A quiet laugh escaped her.
”Guess he’s really tired.”
Mara nodded.
”Yes.”
She looked toward the water.
Then toward the Commander.
”Let him sleep.”
And so they did.
No more challenges.
No more operational planning.
No more attempts to dislodge him.
For the rest of the afternoon, the greatest collection of naval firepower, technical expertise, and argumentative personalities ever assembled beneath a beach umbrella collectively agreed on one thing.
Commander Kade Bher was not to be disturbed.
The ocean continued whispering against the shore.
The palm leaves rustled overhead.
The book remained balanced across his face.
And the short, sarcastic former Hero—whose true history remained unknown to everyone around him—slept peacefully while the people he’d come to care about enjoyed the beautiful day he’d given them.
For once, Kade didn’t need to protect anybody.
They were looking after him.
Even if none of them would have described it that way.
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