With only 412 million credits left in the bank, I need to be smart about my spending. Every decision counts. I skim through my design options, trying to strike that perfect balance between power and affordability. My initial thought is to go with a dreadnought-style warship, something along the lines of the Queen Elizabeth class. I can almost picture it—heavy armor, big guns—but then I shake my head. Speed. I need speed. These new ships have to match or, ideally, surpass my battleships’ speed. A lumbering super-dreadnought won't cut it.

I mull over my choices, then think of the Alaska-class. Fast and hard-hitting, but expensive. Too expensive for what I need right now. My mind drifts to the Scharnhorst—a balance of power, speed, and cost-effectiveness. That’s more like it. If I can take a page from that playbook, I might just get the firepower I want without bleeding my budget dry.

After eating lunch with the girls, they're doing whatever they want while I head to the design room. I fire up the system and settle in, fingers tapping the controls, ready to dive into this new project.

First, I set the displacement. I’m aiming for a standard displacement of 20,000 tons and a full load of around 23,000 tons. Not too heavy, not too light. Something that can take a hit but still fly across the waves. Hitting these targets means I need to get a bit creative with my design choices.

The hull comes next. I sift through materials, carefully weighing my options. Standard shipbuilding steel pops up first—it’s the cheap, reliable option. Lighter too. I could save a chunk of credits here. But then reality hits me. Standard steel would need more upkeep. I’d be paying for that savings with maintenance headaches later, and the last thing I need is to be constantly pulling these ships out of service for repairs.

Special-treated steel it is. My tried-and-true. It’s more expensive, sure, but it’s worth the investment. This way, I’ll get ships that can stay out at sea longer, take a bit of a beating, and save me from costly drydock time later.

Armor is the tricky part. I don’t want to go overboard here and turn the ship into a floating fortress. No, the armor has to be just enough in the right places—strategic and sleek. I start with the magazine. If anything's going to blow up, it's not going to be the ammunition stores. I slot in 10 inches of inclined armor over the magazine, machinery and turret barbette, adding an extra layer of protection should give me more bang for my buck.

The ends of the ship, though? I’ll go lighter there—just 3 inches of armor. If something hits the bow or stern, it’s not the end of the world. It’ll hurt, but it won’t cripple the ship. I need speed, not a tank.

For the armament, I’m going with 11-inch, 52-caliber triple turrets. At first glance, 11 inches might seem like a bit of a downgrade, especially compared to the 16-inch beasts out there. But these smaller shells have surprising bite. The penetration power is impressive, capable of holding their own against bigger calibers. Plus, I’m not designing these ships to be the heaviest hitters in the fleet—they're more about precision. Their main job will be to disable enemy turrets, and with a solid fire control system, even if we don’t punch through the armor, the sheer force and vibrations from a near-miss could knock a few systems out of whack.

The setup is straightforward but effective. Three 11-inch triple turrets—one forward, one superfiring forward, and one aft. This arrangement gives me decent firepower coverage, especially for head-on engagements. It's compact enough to fit my displacement goals without sacrificing too much armor or speed.

Anti-aircraft defense is a must, so I’m adding 12 standard 4-inch heavy AA guns, spread across twin turrets. These will handle any pesky aircraft that decide to get too close. And to top it off, I’m scattering a network of 40mm guns across the ship, the usual suspects for close-range air defense. With this setup, it should have the cover my ship girls requested back on the dinner table.

The design is really starting to take shape now. After some serious tinkering and adjustments to the turbo-electric engines, I’ve got the ship cruising reliably at 30 knots. That’s a solid speed for a ship this size, fast enough to keep pace with my fleet and move faster than them if needed. The standard displacement is sitting just over 21,500 tons, and the full load reaches about 24,500 tons. It’s cutting it close, but I’m confident it’ll hold up in action.

The fire control system is pretty fancy alongside its radar-guidance for the AA guns, which should be more than enough for most engagements. At this point, I’m realizing this ship is more like a battlecruiser. Especially with the 11-inch guns—it’s no North Carolina with its 16-inch behemoths, but I don’t need it to be. This ship is built to complement my fleet, not dominate every battlefield.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I lean back for a moment, taking in the design. There’s something deeply satisfying about how it’s all coming together—fast, agile, armed to the teeth, and efficient. The more I look at it, the more I realize this ship is going to fill a unique niche in my growing navy. It’s not meant to go toe-to-toe with the floating fortress, no, this ship is designed to be precise. It’s a scalpel, not a hammer.

Technically, I could call it a battlecruiser, and no one would bat an eye. The guns alone—those 11-inch turrets—would justify the classification. But after thinking it through, I’m opting for “Heavy Cruiser” instead. The armor and speed fit the cruiser mold better, even though the firepower leans more toward the “heavy” side of the scale.

With the design finalized, I decide to add two floatplane catapults at the stern. They’ll be useful for spotting distant enemy ships or scouting out tricky islands before sending in the big guns. A small touch, but an important one.

Once everything’s wrapped up, I head over to the construction facilities to get the ship commissioned. The cost—39 million credits per ship—comes in lower than I anticipated. Not bad at all for a ship with this level of firepower and versatility. I place the order and begin waiting for their construction, but I’m already picturing these cruisers steaming alongside the rest of my fleet.

Now, all that’s left is to give it a name. I start off thinking about military figures, trying to find someone who’d appreciate this kind of design. Admiral Fisher pops into my head—he practically invented the battlecruiser, after all. But I hesitate. Fisher would probably insist on calling these ships battlecruisers, and that’s not the legacy I’m aiming for. No, these are heavy cruisers through and through, and they need a name that fits that role.

I toy with a few ideas, rolling the names around in my head, trying to feel which one clicks. Something bold, something sharp, something that captures the essence of these ships.

Next, I think about Admiral Raeder. He’d probably take one look at this ship, slap a “light cruiser” label on it, and call it treaty-compliant. And while the idea of bending the rules is amusing, naming a ship after him feels… off. It’s like naming a submarine after Karl Dönitz—just doesn’t sit right with me. Sure, they were significant figures, but not exactly the names you want etched into the hull of a ship you’re proud of.

With a sigh, I resign myself to Admiral Fisher. The guy practically birthed the concept of the battlecruiser, and while he might argue this ship leans more toward that category than a heavy cruiser, it still feels right. Plus, I can’t think of a single ship that’s been named after him, so it’s about time. Maybe it's not the most lore-accurate name, but there's something undeniably cool about it.

And just like that, the Admiral Fisher-Class Heavy Cruisers are born. They’re smaller than their battleship cousins, about three-quarters the size of the North Carolina, but I’ve packed so much into these ships that they almost feel bigger. Every inch of space has been optimized—whether it's the placement of the turrets or the tight arrangement of the AA defenses. I’ve made enough innovations here that I’m confident these cruisers will hold their own in a fight, even if they’re outgunned.

I’ve ordered Ten of them. Ten sleek, fast, and deadly heavy cruisers to bolster my fleet. As I finalize everything, a sudden realization hits me: I haven’t even picked names for these ships yet. I chuckle to myself.

The usual admirals float through my mind—Beatty, Fisher, Jellicoe. It’s tempting to go with the classics, but part of me wants to get creative. There’s always room for a little flair when it comes to naming. The names will come when the time is right—probably when I’m standing in front of them,

For now, I’ll let inspiration guide me when the moment arrives.

*

After a few days of hanging around with the girls and bouncing ideas off each other, the Admiral Fisher Class is finally ready. I’ve been taking it easy, but the moment’s come to get these heavy cruisers into the water. One by one, we start the launches. First up, Admiral Fisher, setting the lead ship of the class. Then come the others: Admiral Jellicoe, Admiral Beatty, Admiral Hipper, Admiral Scheer, Admiral Reginald, Admiral Spee, Admiral Baronet, Admiral Tirpitz, and Admiral Sims. Watching them roll into the sea, their hulls gleaming under the sun, feels like the culmination of a solid effort.

But even with these ten ships ready to go, it's still not enough. North Carolina came to me yesterday with her battle plan, observing the construction like a hawk as they neared completion. She didn’t hold back—she wants 15 more of these cruisers. I’m not sure whether to admire her ambition or question her sanity, but her reasoning? It’s all based on the idea that these ships, with their 11-inch guns, can surgically take down enemy turrets while they draw fire in the process.

It’s almost heroic in a way, the image she paints—these cruisers facing down enemy fire, breaking apart their targets with precision. But at the same time, it’s a risky and questionable choice. North Carolina’s confidence is contagious, but I can’t ignore the fact that these ships, with their lighter armor, aren’t built to be damage sponges like the bigger battleships. They’re designed for speed and agility, not tanking hits.

Maybe her idea has some merit. After all, her sister ships do have armor. But I’m not about to let her turn them into sacrificial pawns, soaking up damage so the rest of the fleet can get away. I’ll play along with her strategy for now, but I’m going to make sure her and her sisters don’t end up as glorified damage sponge. If we’re going to fight, we’re doing it smart, not just throwing ships into the line of fire for the sake of it.