Shinano sat on the front-edge of her airstrip, looking out into the deep blue ocean as the sun began to crest over the horizon. She had learned to enjoy this little moment of time when the sky was streaked with colors of red, pink and orange. It felt like another life-time ago she had left the Fleet of Fog and gone rogue, to pursue a near impossible dream. A smile creased her lips as she remembered the two humans who helped her on her path towards that dream. It was almost embarrassing to recall how much effort it took to think the way she does now. The beautiful and traditional-style black kimono that she typically wore reflected this. War no longer interested her. Instead, she wished to find a reason to exist outside of it. She could feel the other ships in her fleet through the closed connection they shared. They were her reason for existing right now. Nothing mattered more than them. That was why they were currently sitting in open waters off the coast of Japan. She had spent enough time hiding from Fleet of Fog, specifically her half-sisters. The prime minister of Japan wished to meet with her and establish a line of trust that would allow them to cooperate in the future. She couldn't imagine the difficulty sending such a communication would have been.

There was only one human in the entirety of the Phantom Fleet: Hayashida Kioshi. A brilliant scientist and engineer, he is the son of Hayashida Shoheiand Hayashida Chisa whose work developed the Stealth Drive. Now he carries on their work by helping to maintain the device while studying the technology of the Fleet of Fog. His technical expertise is also useful for repairing some of the more delicate sub-systems of the fleet that can't simply be repaired with nano-material. Half of his life has been spent aboard Shinano and living with the Phantom Fleet. He is a chronic workaholic and often exhausts himself with maintenance, experiments, and repairs. Despite this, he keeps a jolly attitude and considers all of the mental models to be his close friends. He has a particular obsession with Shinao's Super Gravity Cannon and constantly requests a live-firing of the weapon, despite Shinano's persistent rejection.

Shinano was currently waiting for a human ship to come from the direction of the mainland. The Prime Minister insisted that the Phantom Fleet stay just off the coast as the meeting was intended to be secretive and their presence might cause a panic. Launching a ship always had a chance to attract the attention of the Fleet of Fog, but the risk was minimal at this distance. Even so, Shinano had the destroyers Le Terrible and Yukikaze to head out on patrol to spot any hostiles. The light cruiser Oakland was in charge of bringing the human ship to Shinano and contacting the rest of the fleet when it arrived.

The ocean remained peaceful until a single vessel could be seen coming from the coastline in a direct interception route to the area where the Phantom Fleet was positioned. Of course if the stealth drive was fully operational, there was no way for the vessel to detect or see them therefore the stealth drive was merely masking their energy signatures. The model of the ship matched the information given by the Japanese Government. A Shimakaze-class destroyer, it was supposed to be one more their newer production missile destroyers. Time had come for the Phantom Fleet to stop running and shift the balance of power.

Information integrity was paramount.

Grey blue waves lapped at the sides of the dark hull that slowly cut through the ocean off the greatly diminished Japanese coast. The crimson luminescent markings, the color most common to the Fleet of Fog, adorned the ship's exterior, as if it was not in fact a defector. The vessel looked as if she remained an enemy of humanity, a detail that made many nervous despite the fact she no longer aimed her weapons towards them. Her reputation lingered, and with it the fear. As such, the large destroyer Le Terrible could never be chosen as the direct escort for such a delicate mission. Even her patrol kept her well away from the human vessel, though this was just as well for her, having no interest in the humans nor was she suited for escort duty. Such a task would only hold her back.

Atop her mast, balanced precariously, Le Terrible's mental model perched amidst the gusting winds. Despite what looked like dangerous footing she was unmoved by the wind, absorbed in the array of screens circling her. Maps of the sea floor, radar tracking the weather for miles around, the direction and speed of winds, her current power use, temperatures, and other internal diagnostics, her sharp eyes scanned everything. The self proclaimed instrument of war believed that firepower and tactics were not the deciding factors in a battle, rather information was king. However, information was unreliable at best and worthless at worst, if its integrity could not be verified.

High above, beyond the sky that could be seen, were countless satellites scattered over so many decades. Each one, regardless of intended use, was now so much scrap metal floating in the void. Humans had once enjoyed a veritable treasure trove of information with a bird's eye view across the entire globe. This was before her time and with each new satellite immediately shot down, Le Terrible lamented her inability to access such a convenient network. Relying on only her own limited range sensors to collect data drove her to grind her teeth in frustration.

How much can be seen by the Fleet of Fog, if only they turned their attention to this area?

Far too much was the answer she feared, and enough was the answer confirmed by the single ship that appeared to challenge the Phantom Fleet.

Le Terrible's attention was laser focused on the Shimakaze class the instant it was detected, and she wasted no time in checking and rechecking everything she could learn about the enemy. Everything was questioned at least twice over, even if it was her own sensors. Deception was a powerful weapon, and while the Fleet of Fog had rarely used such tactics, the chance was not zero. Only when she could verify the enemy visually did she make her decision.

“Enemy sighted.”

Seawater churned into a white froth as Le Terrible changed course suddenly and rapidly picked up speed.

“It's heading directly towards the fleet. It knows where we are. Enemy support may be hiding beyond detection range.”

This situation was not in their favor. With the enemy sighted and the mission in jeopardy, the best course of action was to break away and run. The Phantom Fleet, small as it was, survived by evading detection, and it seemed they were not as hidden as they had believed. Worst case, she anticipated a blockade surrounding them, ready to catch them all when they tried to escape. She couldn't confirm this prediction yet, obviously, so for her there was only one path forward.

”Moving to intercept.”

Life will lend it's lemons and you can make lemonade. Well, That's what New York heard anyway.

Leaning on the railing of the bow of Battleship USS New York was the familiar tan-skinned Mental Model busying herself on a handheld console in hand, her gunmetal grey eyes closely watching BRS as she clicked on a skill that activated her ability and attacked a mechanical entity in front of with the few button mashes here and there. It's been some time... Honestly, with her still on getting to know the other ships in the fleet; Whom they were dispatched off on their directives given to them by this fleet's flagship, New York was playing video games as she was a wee bit bored on her end. Or somewhat like that...

Her battleship, with it's magenta-hued markings on the warship unlike the usual red markings on a usual Fleet of Fog ship, as this instead marked her as a traitor of sorts to the Fleet of Fog. Not that New York cared in that sense, besides magenta was her favorite color and she just went with it, with the New York-class Battleship floating idly in the ocean's current not far from Shinano, the flagship of this fleet. Honestly, New York was grateful for being in another fleet... since it seemed more chill compared... to nah not gonna talk about it. But she watched as the last of BRS's health was knocked empty and she lost, earning a small annoyed sigh from her before looking up at the Yamato-class ship. "Sometimes, I hate when I lose." She grumbled annoyed at losing the game.

So she turns off the Handheld console as she stares at the very ship, New York was set on standby to await orders or something and it was painstakingly boring at times having to wait but hey! She had video games to keep her company and Shinano! and there was no one else to pick at since Yukikaze and Le Terrible had been launched for patrol and Oakland.... Well, she was escortin'. So here was New York... Sadly here ALONE... well not really alone, there's Shinano.

"I hate that I gotta be on STAAAAAAANBYYYYYYYYYYY...." She complained. Well, that was very dramatic, albeit overdramatic if this user could say so herself. A small gentle breeze from the winds ruffled her otherwise neck-length short choppy hair as she had this grumpy expression emulated from her programming's emotional protocols. But she raised herself up a bit curious at Le Terrible's announcement, well more than one... Guess they have some potential enemies.

"Hey, Ya sure they're enemies? Best to be sure they're not or somethin'" She called out, more coherently to Le Terrible. It moreso left, with New York being a bit curious about Le Terrible... Since well this Former Fleet of Fog Battleship was curious and all that, But she tuned back into her game while waiting for an answer.

Valid. I was concerned about the same. However, I can't afford to hesitate.

Le Terrible stayed her course, cutting through the water not unlike a chainsaw near her top speed. It wouldn't be long until they were within range of each other's guns and the matter would be laid to rest one way or another. The two opposing destroyers were in missile range by now, however Le Terrible held her fire. It was her way to hold back extremely long range fire until the enemy attacked first, she preferred to counter and slip through the gaps.

She liked to get close, until she could see the enemy's mental model, or the eyes of frightened crew.

”You're more conscientious than you appear, New York. I have visual confirmation and no friendly Phantom Fleet tag. If it is not an enemy, it would do well to stand down.”