I’d love to have this kind of life, just lounging around and enjoying it all, but unfortunately, I’ve got a world to save. So, in a few days, The Lexington Class, my first fleet carriers, gets launched off the drydocks. Unfortunately, I’m all out of warrior cores, which means she’s just a regular warship, like the old-school kind—no fancy tricks.

But even without the warrior cores, Lexington and the some of my ships form what I’m calling the *Expeditionary Fleet*. It’s basically a beefed-up version of my old Voyager 1 Fleet, now packed with five battleships, two fleet carriers, one light carrier, two heavy cruisers, and twenty destroyers. North Carolina takes the lead as the commander, with Kansas and Tennessee as her second in command ships. Washington is handling logistics, which should be a big relief for me, and Massachusetts is the leader of scouting operations.

Of course, I’m still at the helm of everything—nothing happens without my say-so—but letting someone else take the reins of the fleet should ease a lot of my headaches. I mean, I’ve still got tons of issues to juggle— general procurement, logistics, patrols, and exploration—but now that North Carolina and her sisters are now doing one thing on my list of alot of things, I’ve at least made some progress.

At first, I figured North Carolina, and the others would know their stuff—they're literally the manifestation of battleships, so handling warships should be second nature. But, of course, things are never that simple. Turns out, their idea of aircraft is limited to scouting missions, and they’re still all about using their guns to handle enemies. That’s not gonna work in every situation, especially with a carrier in the mix.

So now, I’ve got to step in and play tutor. I need to show them what an aircraft carrier actually does and how they should use it properly. It’s not just about slinging shells at whatever’s in front of you anymore. This is a whole different field with aircraft assets involved and they need to know how to use that power wisely, not just as an afterthought.

*

At the training area, which is just the open ocean, the ship girls manifest back into their original warship forms. Everything kicks off pretty standard. We start with simple formations, cruising in sync, and then move to gunnery practice. I stand on the bridge of North Carolina, feeling like I’m piloting a giant conscious mech. It’s wild. When the 16-inch guns fire, the sheer power of it is incredible, the blast so loud I can feel it in my chest. Crashing down into the sea with satisfying splashes, targeting buoys with pinpoint accuracy.

As the training continue, bombs are now dropped, splashing down and sending the local fish scattering, probably pretty annoyed by the chaos. Shells rain down on the target buoys, testing the precision of each ship’s firepower. Everything is going smoothly, maybe too smoothly, because boredom starts to set in. I’m trying to keep my focus, but honestly, the repetition of practice is making my eyelids heavy, but i know that this is for the better.

And then, out of nowhere, Kansas suggests we turn this into a competition. It's sudden, but honestly, it’s a good idea. This trial is getting a little too routine, and I could use the excitement. "Why not?" I think. A little competition might wake everyone up.

We start with the usual—gunnery and precision practice. Everyone’s giving it their all, hitting targets that are way out of my comfort zone. I watch as AWACS aircraft feed data directly into North ship girls mind, calculating the distance to a far-off target buoy. The guns adjust, fire, and moments later, there’s a massive splash as the shell connects. It’s impressive. The ship girls are locked in, pushing themselves and their minds beyond the limits, each trying to outdo the other.

It’s about precision, speed, and accuracy. And the tension in the air grows as each round of firing becomes more intense. This is turning into more than just a trial; it’s a full-on contest.

It even gets to the point where they’re firing beyond the horizon, and somehow, they’re still hitting their targets with almost near-perfect precision. I swear, those buoys have enough time to finish school, have a family, a good paying job, and maybe even make peace with their existence before the shells come crashing down on them. The travel time is almost comical, but the accuracy? It’s nothing short of impressive.

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So far, everything’s going smoothly—until Tennessee throws out a suggestion that makes me do a mental double-take. I can almost feel an exclamation mark pop over my head like I’m in some kind of cartoon.

"Why don’t we practice maneuvers?" she says. Pretty normal, right? Until she casually adds, "But with bombs and torpedoes to train ourselves further."

My immediate reaction is to laugh nervously. Bombs and torpedoes? During maneuvers? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. But, being me, and wanting to encourage them to speak their minds, I decide to roll with it. If they feel comfortable throwing these ideas out there, I must be doing something right. So, I give it the green light.

Of course, I make sure to note that we’ll be using inert bombs and torpedoes. No need to blow anything up during practice. They’re fine with that, and honestly, I’m relieved they didn’t push for live ordnance.

By the time early afternoon rolls around, we’re gearing up for the next phase of trials. The calm sea stretches out in front of us, but I can already sense that things are about to get a lot more interesting—and a lot more chaotic.

The trial begins with just five of my F-1 aircraft flying toward the formation of battleships. It’s a modest start—small strafing runs, a few practice bombs dropped, and the ships respond like clockwork. North Carolina, Kansas, Massachusetts, Washington, and Tennessee fall into formation, their zigzagging maneuvers smooth and quick, dodging the inert bombs falling from above with ease. The atmosphere is calm, almost too calm, and everything feels a little too predictable.

I decided to get things up for a bit before my ships gets bored. And now fifty F-1s are launched from Lexington and Saratoga, filling the skies. The trial kicks into high gear as my destroyers also move in from the flanks, launching inert torpedoes at the battleships. The airstrike begins in earnest, and the ships are now up against a storm of aircraft and mock torpedoes.

North Carolina is the first to struggle. She weaves through the air attacks, but eventually, a stray inert bomb strikes her forward deck. It leaves nothing more than a dent, but a hit is a hit. "You're out!" I call over the comms, and she leaves the formation, exiting the trial.

The remaining ships press on, dodging bombs and strafing runs. Kansas is next. She manages to hold her own against the incoming aircraft until three dud torpedoes streak in from the side. They hit her centerline with a solid thud. No explosions, just harmless impacts, but that’s enough to signal the end for her. "Kansas, you're out," I announce. She falls back, leaving the other ships to continue the fight.

Massachusetts and Washington are now under the full brunt of the assault. The planes dip lower, firing off round after round of inert bombs. Massachusetts almost makes it out, but a torpedo hits her bow, throwing off her maneuvers. An inert bomb lands on her aft deck soon after, signaling her defeat. "Massachusetts, you're done," I say, and she moved away from the action.

Washington follows shortly after. She’s done a great job dodging, but eventually, her luck runs out. A bomb drops onto her deck, harmlessly bouncing off but marking her end in this trial. "Washington, out."

Now, all eyes are on Tennessee, the last ship standing. She’s been dodging, weaving, and holding her own this whole time. But the F-1s are relentless, and eventually, two dud torpedoes hit her stern, while an inert bomb drops right onto her funnel, denting it but not doing any real damage. Still, rules are rules. "Tennessee, you’re hit. You're out," I call.

With that, the trial ends. The sky clears, and the once-fierce formation of battleships returns to port, not a single ship seriously damaged but all marked by the trial. It’s a good reminder that even in practice, it only takes one hit to change everything, quite scary to think about it honestly.

*

After the trials, the battleships return to port for repairs, and by the time the night rolls around, they're all patched up and back in fighting shape. With the stress of the day left behind us, we gather around the dinner table in my spacious dining room, where I’ve prepared a spread of Asian dishes. The aroma of stir-fried vegetables, tender chicken in savory sauce, and steaming jasmine rice fills the room, mingling with the softer scent of freshly cut herbs.

As we sit around the table, their spirits high despite the trials of the afternoon. North Carolina takes a generous helping of the stir-fried noodles, while Kansas ladles some chicken curry over her rice. Massachusetts and Washington chat, passing dishes and grabbing their share of the food. Tennessee, who took the worst of the hits, seems particularly eager to dig.

As we start eating, the conversation naturally turns to the day’s events. I sit back, enjoying a bowl of miso soup, and listen as the girls discuss their experiences.