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The commander was in one of his planning meetings, this time more administrative in nature, so he hadn't called his main council to talk. He'd invited Albert this time to talk about what he'd been doing now that he was on the job. Albert had given a decent report, pretty good for someone who hadn't been there very long, but the commander did have a question. "So, do you have any thoughts?"
Albert responded. "Sir! I have no recommendations at this time."
The commander blinked. "So, you don't have any ideas on how to improve our situation?"
Albert stood even straighter, if that was at all possible. "Sir, I have ideas, certainly, but no recommendations."
The commander was interested in the distinction, and decided to see how far he could get into Albert's head. "Would you mind elaborating?"
"Of course, sir." Albert put his hands behind his back. "While I do not need to explain to the commander the complexities of military logistics, making changes to an existing system requires a thorough understanding of all of the relevant interoperating parts of that system. One cannot merely change such a thing on the fly."
Peter Strasser sat back. "Oh? Those are interesting words from someone who altered his convoy's transport route to get here faster."
Albert cleared his throat. "Yes, I admit I did take that action, but that's because all of the relevant local circumstances in that instance were favorable to such a course, and we cannot take what may be an edge case and apply it wholesale to the entire program. There is a terrible and unacceptable risk in worshipping at the altar of "ideal conditions" in the world of military planning. While my route of passage was useful at the moment, we need to more closely examine things like weather patterns, seasonal navigational hazards, siren attention, and so on before making major decisions, or we may lose more in supplies than we gain from time."
The commander gave a nod to that. "So, what are your views?"
"My views are this- the most important features of a logistics network are capacity and reliability, and we must take great care not to sacrifice either of them to pursue higher numbers in what may be ultimately irrelevant metrics. There are many things that we could do that would appear to save time and fuel, but may well have far greater costs down the road in terms of ship repair, extra maintenance costs, and mechanical failure. However, we have to resist the allure of false economy as we search for true improvement. Further, there's no point in increasing speed if we lack the ability to adequately store the extra supplies if they arrive substantially faster than they're used. We can probably use our own resources to overhaul the engines of the transport ships, for example, but first we must uncover if there is any point to do so, what the refit schedule would do to our intake, and the overall cost to us in general."
Peter Strasser smiled. "Mhmmm... So you did have an idea on how to improve things already, it seems."
"It's still only an idea, not a recommendation. I still only have what I judge as a somewhat superficial understanding of the full nuances of Azur Lane's logistics network, and to make sweeping changes based on a cursory and incomplete estimation of our circumstances in an attempt to feign brilliance is the mark of a fourth-rate military planner who is undeserving of a rank. Sir."
Peter Strasser smiled and blushed a bit, scratching a cheek with a finger. The commander knew that she knew all of this already, and that she was simply prodding him to see how he would respond. If she was satisfied with his answers, that was a good sign. The commander gave a nod. "All right. When it comes to this, I would like you to work with Kashino- she knows the most about our situation on our side. Dismissed."
Albert saluted, and turned to leave. Peter Strasser came up beside him, ad gave him a very friendly smile. "Albert... I know you have some free time in your schedule. So, would you like to go somewhere and, say..." She put her hands behind her back. "...Talk timetables with me?"
Albert still hadn't accustomed himself to the ways of his comrades yet. "Erm, um... Yes, Frau Strasser..."
She put a hand on one of his arms. "Good. I know a perfect place for it- Don't worry, I won't take up all your time, only just enough. Hehe~"
After the very flustered Albert left with Peter Strasser, and the others were out of the room, the commander turned to Shangri-La. "Now that's settled, there's another bit of business I need to see to, and right away. We are expecting a guest."
Shangri-La looked down at her records. "I've noticed we had a warship suddenly added to the schedule. Who is on board?"
"Captain Robert Crosswell. He's not listed as the captain of that ship. He was actually one of my instructors at the academy- A lot of the tactical skills that I brought here with me came from him."
"Hm." Shangri-La went. "I didn't think you'd rush to meet him, as I heard that your experience at the academy was not the greatest."
The commander rubbed the back of his neck- it was true that his time there left him with a couple of literal permanent scars. "It's true that there were people who had it out for me there, but Captain Crosswell had a somewhat more stark view about what he was supposed to be doing. Either you had what it took, or you didn't, and he didn't extend any grace to legacy students or any malice to, well, people like me. He had a job and he'd do it, no matter what happened on the way."
Shangri-La began writing things down. "I would suppose there are some advantages to being so neutral."
The commander shrugged. "Well, if you had the ability, he didn't care about anything else about you, but he was also indifferent to crushing someone's dreams along the way. You can make what you will of that."
Shangri-La continued. "Do you have any idea why he's here? Surely he has many other duties."
"I can only guess. He didn't care what other people in the navy said about him losing his sea legs- He always saw instruction as the most important duty he could be doing, especially in a period where everything we assumed naval warfare was going to be like got turned on its head by the Sirens." He shrugged. "Who knows, maybe he wants me to sign up for another of his classes?"
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The commander went with Shangri-La to the docks to receive Captain Crosswell. It was strange seeing his ship- a lot of the nations had to re-modify their existing stock of ships in order to deal with the realities of fighting the Sirens, and what weapons were useless in the environments that the Sirens created for their engagements. The result was that the ship that pulled into the port looked all the world like a modern destroyer doing its best to dress up as an older destroyer, its advanced missile launchers replaced with additional gun systems and torpedo launchers.
The commander and Shangri-La waited patiently, but they weren't kept waiting long, as the captain was off the ship and onto land as soon as he could make it off.
Captain Crosswell was in his dark blue uniform, with quite a stack of ribbons and some medals to show for his service. He was at the high end of middle age, with outward demeanor of someone who knew he wasn't getting any younger but still determined to make the most of what was left. The commander always saw him as looking like a Veteran Navy Captain straight out of central casting. Crosswell saluted the commander, and he returned it quickly. "Fleet Commander Cochrane."
"Captain Crosswell. To what do we owe this visit?" Shangri-La quickly took a picture of the two of them saluting each other- the commander didn't usually interact with other officers from national navies.
"I wanted to stop by on the way back from a conference. As for that ship, well, she needed some refueling and maintenance anyways, and this was the closest port."
The commander gave a nod, and gestured to the carrier beside him. "Anyway, this is one of my subordinates, Shangri-La. We had just come out of a meeting... So, would you like to get lunch? There are plenty of good places, even here on the base."
Crosswell looked around. "Well, better here than on the boat."
The three of them got an outdoor table at the cafeteria, and placed their orders after sitting down. The commander began. "I do have to be honest you- I'm actually quite surprised that you decided to stop by here. Not many regular navy officers come by this place, if they can avoid it."
"That's their problem. They're somewhat aware of how different this operation is than any other, and they've decided that they'd rather not know how it works in case they end up having to testify in front of some tribunal or other about it. They'd rather not be within fifty knots of this place if it crashes and burns, but you know they'll rush for a slice of the credit if you win." He leaned back in his chair. "You know, by taking a "hands-off" approach that lets you "show initiative"."
Shangri-La was busy writing things down, and the commander continued. "Fair enough, but that doesn't really answer why you're here."
He took out a cigarette and lit up. "Well, I was in the area, I don't plan to stay long, and I wanted to see how one of my students was doing after a few years in a high command. A few people are still grumbling about that, but they also know they can't do anything about it, so all that really changes is that some liquor stores gat a few extra dollars." Shangri-La took a picture of Captain Crosswell, which finally got his attention. "So, what are you even writing about?"
Shangri-La smiled. "I take notes on everything that happens here- all of the interactions between ships, the commander, everything. These stories will be important later."
The commander turned back to Captain Crosswell. "After all this is over, Shangri-La wants to create a people's history of the war from everything she saw on the ground, and from the stories of those here who experienced it all first-hand."
"Well, that's a job and a half. I don't even know if half the things I've seen with my own eyes during the war are true."
Shangri-La smiled, and tapped her pen on her notebook. "It's actually quite fortunate that you came- the commander doesn't talk much about his life before coming here, and we've never been visited by someone who knew the commander before her arrived here. So, I have a question for you. The commander doesn't have good memories about his training, but he said you were fair to him- were you sympathetic to his circumstances?"
Crosswell shrugged. "It was never really a matter of whether I liked Cochrane or not, what mattered was if he had the skills, or talent, or grit to get from one end of my class to the other. And he did, so he did. And that's all there was to it."
Shangri-La adjusted her glasses. "Still, some weren't able to look past his reputation."
Captain Crosswell had a quick response. "A reputation is not a record, and I want the record."
The commander spoke up. "This is why I'm confused that you decided to come visit me- I didn't take you as someone who'd suddenly get sentimental over old students."
"It's not a matter of being sentimental, commander Cochrane." He received his food from Curlew, and then finished his thought. "It's a matter of being curious."
The commander took his own plate. "Curious about what?"
Crosswell continued. "Commander Cochrane, you jumped the line like you got issued a pair of spring-heeled boots. Now, that did raise my eyebrows, but I wasn't sore about it- I figured that the realities of the job would sort things out one way or another soon enough. But you held on, and even got to winning. So, I wanted to get a closer look."
The commander replied. "Sorry, Captain, but our enemy doesn't work to our timetables."
"Suits me just fine." He went to his food. "Because you are the one I was thinking of. I wanted to find out what you've learned now that you've spent some time out here in the real world, so I wanted to do a war exercise against you, to see if there's any last bit of schooling you need to pick up."
The commander paused for a moment. "Sure, we can arrange something like that, there are a whole bunch of suitable grounds for it. I wouldn't mind giving my people a different opponent, for variety's sake."
"I'm ready whenever you and your people are. Just have them give me a quick run-through of whatever tech you use for this sort of thing."
The commander nodded. "We do exercises all the time, it won't be a problem."
"Also, if you have a regular tactical simulator, I'd like to try a warm-up first." He took a drink from his glass. "Just you and me. you were always game for a match against me."
The commander shrugged. "I didn't have much else to do with myself."
Shangri-La smiled. "I'd like to remind both of you that your food might get cold."
Captain Crosswell gave Shangri-La a nod. "You know, she's right- better get to this lunch business before our business ruins lunch."
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Facing off against Captain Crosswell in the tactical simulator reminded him of his days at the academy.
Most notably, because he lost.
The commander found that he was still an open book to Captain Crosswell- he had him completely pegged from being the Captain's student, and Crosswell saw through almost every instance of his use of tricks to get an advantage. It wasn't the most devastating loss, but the commander would hesitate to describe it as some species of "close".
After the simulator shut down, Crosswell spoke up. "...Well, you haven't gone up against me in a while, and this round can stay between us, but I expect a whole lot better from you in the main event."
The commander went back to his office. Along with Shangri-La, California was there, delivering some reports. When Shangri-La asked how it went, the commander was honest.
"Eh?! The commander lost?!" California went.
The commander sat down, and put his feet up on his desk. "It's really not that surprising. And besides, it's not like I haven't lost to any of you girls at tactical simulations before."
Shangri-La opened her notebook. "Is Captain Crosswell really that much better?"
The commander thought about it. "I guess the way I would put it is that Captain Crosswell has certain advantages. First, he taught me most of what I know, so he knows what he taught me. And second, I was his student, so he knows exactly how I approach tactical problems. He knows my thinking on a deeper level than simply what tricks are in my toolbox."
Shangri-La continued writing. "Is it really so much of an advantage?"
The commander gave her a nod. "Captain Crosswell is really deep into the psychology of tactics- of he knows how his opponents approach and attempt to solve battlefield issues, then he knows how they will deploy whatever tricks that they know."
The carrier nodded. "You do the same thing sometimes- Can't you turn that on him, somehow?"
The commander shook his head. "He's so good at adapting to counter the way his opponents think that it's incredibly difficult to get a glimpse of how he views battlefield difficulties. I've only rarely ever been able to actually surprise him. I challenged him to simulations a lot at the academy in my spare time, but at my very best I was only able ever to beat him three times out of ten." the commander tipped his hat down. "No matter how you look at it, those odds aren't good."
California looked dispirited about this. "...Does that mean we're going to lose?"
The commander shook his head. "All it means is that I can't win- that doesn't mean we're going to lose."
Shangri-La interjected. "You can't substitute anyone for yourself- Captain Crosswell will expect you to be his opponent."
"I'll be in command, certainly." The commander looked at the others. "...However, that still leaves us with a substantial bit of wiggle room." He took his feet off his desk. "I need to make some calls and have a meeting with a couple of people. He wants to have the exercise in a couple of days, so I'm going to have to work fast to be ready for him.
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"Anyway, the naval drones we made will simulate you having your own Kansen- we made them from old equipment and weapons, and they're useless in any actual battle, but they're real good for training, nya~"
Captain Crosswell looked at the display and control scheme. "The connection is reliable?"
Akashi gave some quick nods. "Mhm! It won't break unless actual Sirens show up, nya."
Captain Crosswell looked over the setup. "...We could use something like this at the academy. Something like this to represent regular ships, though."
Akashi put on her business grin. "Hmm~ How much would it be worth to you, nya~"
Yuubari peeked out from behind the drone control computer she was adjusting. "Akashi, please cease attempting to become a defense contractor. You know it is unseemly."
"Can't blame a cat for trying, nya~"
Yuubari went back to work. "What puzzles me, Captain, is why you didn't even blink an eye after encountering us."
Captain Crosswell got himself acclimated to the controls for his drone fleets. "Well, if you put a gun to my head, I'd say you aren't even in the top ten strangest people I've met in this job."
Yuubari continued making last-minute adjustments. "May I ask how that might be? It seems improbable."
Crosswell was finally comfortable with his setup. "One of the things about life in the service is that it can attract people who don't, or just can't fit in anywhere else."
The fox closed the panel. "...Like master Cochrane?"
Captain Crosswell didn't answer immediately. "...Yeah, like Commander Cochrane." He leaned back in his chair. "Being away from the rest of us was good for him. He was someone who was looking for something, and the rest of us either wouldn't give to him or wouldn't even help him find. Whatever it was, he has definitely found it here."
Yuubari hit a few switches. "It sounds like you want to face him, now that he's no longer a mess."
"Yeah, maybe." He brought up the command screen. "All right, I'm ready to get things started. anything else I should know?"
Yuubari spoke up. "While the commander is using his people, your drones will respond to whatever you ask them to do, as soon as you ask it, so that should even things out."
"Sounds like a plan. Anyway, once this thing starts up, I'm going to need you to keep your hatches shut." He opened up communications to the commander. "Hey, Cochrane, are you ready to start this thing?"
The commander called back. "I'm ready to go, we'll start as soon as you close the communications."
"Fair enough." And then he did.
Captain Crosswell could see the wisdom in holding exercises in a place like The Shoals. When fighting the Sirens, Radar could be unreliable, communications difficult, combat could happen very suddenly and at very close ranges, and communication could be hindered. A place at sea that had real terrain like this was one of the best places to train for all of those sorts of problems.
He immediately set about taking some precautions for his fleet as he set out to his objective. Even though it was impossible to keep his fleet together as one maneuver unit because of the potential for traffic jams and that it would be extremely difficult to make use of his full strength, he did make sure his forces remained close enough to support each other. If he separated them too much, Cochrane would certainly concentrate against a divided unit while sending other forces to gum up the rest until Cochran had been able to destroy everything in detail. He also noticed that even though this was essentially the naval equivalent of broken ground, there were still lanes open enough for long-range torpedo attacks, so he made sure to avoid or guard against them.
He also knew that Cochrane would try to shoot down his scout planes in a place like this, so he sent them along with an escort to make sure that it cost him when he eventually tried to do that. He became quite aware of the furballs that developed as his hunter squadrons were attacked, and those were beginning to develop to his satisfaction.
That is, until, his own ships came under air attack.
His little maneuver had left him with less air cover than he normally would've had, so the damage wasn't big- it was more of a strong reminder that he shouldn't get too comfortable. Still, this hadn't been the first time that Cochrane had pulled this kind of maneuver and still lost in the end. All of this was well within the sorts of things that Cochrane would try, so he was sure that his opponent was fighting well within his usual approach. So, he pulled back his fighters to keep the air cover going.
But while he was still searching for the main body of Cochrane's fleet, things started to take a turn for the strange. At various points, destroyers would poke their heads out, dump a load of torpedoes, and then leave. This concerned Crosswell for a couple of reasons- in these exchanges, he wasn't giving better than he was getting, and second, Cochrane never detached small groups of escorts like this. The only thing they served to do was break his concentration, and he kept on running into these very thin tripwires. While Cochrane was no stranger to deception, the only opposition he seemed to be encountering was smoke and mirrors, only the damage was real- it was entirely unlike any fight he'd had against his student in the past.
And on top of that, his surviving scouts only seemed to be finding bits and pieces of Cochrane's forces here and there- it's like Commander Cochrane was playing a gigantic naval shell game. While had thought that his opponent might have been attempting some sort of defense-in-depth strategy, nothing his eyes in the sky were telling him could confirm that. Seeing as he wasn't able to read what Cochrane was thinking, he fell back to a more cautious disposition, moving carefully and being ready to respond to attacks.
The attacks came as he expected, but not in the form he expected. He was harassed by larger groups of fast ships- light cruisers, even battlecruisers, but whenever he was about to retaliate and deal some actual damage to Cochrane's forces, something would happen- a large follow-up torpedo attack, a concentrated airstrike would cover their escape, meaning he was always on the cusp of being able to deal some real hurt, but at the very last moment the chance would slip away.
While none of these attacks were dealing any truly crippling damage to the fleet, it was adding up, plus having to play defense like this meant his progress towards Cochrane's objective position was slower than he liked- and he still couldn't find something resembling a main fleet, plus Cochrane had kept his air cover strong. So, even though he was still steadily advancing, he didn't feel like he was actually gaining any tactical ground- and on top of that, it didn't feel like he could trust what his ships and planes were showing him.
However, while he was thinking about this, one action gave Cochrane's game away- some attacking aircraft dropped their payload and then kept on going, not turning around. He knew that no one would just throw away planes, so he realized they were heading to another carrier on the opposite side of his fleet, which told him that there was a strong possibility he was being surrounded.
He quickly checked his map against his maneuvers and found out he was moving his forces into a spot where they could be attacked from all sides and not be able to respond effectively, and then he realized the full depth of Cochrane's battle plan. All of that poking and prodding and salami-slicing of his forces, it was all just a grandiose multi-layered deception made to maneuver him onto a spot where he could be squeezed and destroyed- he was going to be trapped in a Cannae of Cochrane's making. It was a depth of deception he'd never seen Cochrane practice before, ever.
But realizing this gave him a chance to escape. He started to reorganize his fleet to perform a breakthrough assault once Cochrane's forces showed themselves again, giving him a chance to break out of the trap and even destroy his opponent's separated forces.
At that moment, Cochrane's forces attacked before he was ready. Crosswell's forces were under attack from all sides while they were reorganizing- the snare went even deeper than he thought, as Crosswell realized that Cochrane had given away his own trap in order to provoke him into reorganizing to escape it, and then followed up with an assault while his forces were disordered. Crosswell slumped in his chair once he realized the double-snare he'd fallen into. If he'd realized what was going on twenty, or even ten minutes earlier, he would've been able to do something about it, but he wasn't going to make any excuses for himself.
He took a deep breath, and flipped open the comms. "Hey, Cochrane, looks like that's that."
"Okay, Captain. I'll meet you outside later, whenever you want to talk."
Crosswell turned off the comms, took his hat off, and wiped his brow. "Christ almighty, Cochrane, you ought to buy a man dinner if you're going to screw him this hard."
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The commander and Captain Crosswell sat on a bench by the docks, watching the dockworkers and Bullins do the last checks on Crosswell's ship. Captain Crosswell looked at his former student. "So, how'd you do it? I mean, it's astounding if you managed to radically change the way you approach a battle and fully master that same approach in a couple of days."
"Yeah, it would be, wouldn't it?" The commander went on. "But we both know that's not something that happens after a single simulation, so I had to find a different solution. So... I may have cheated?"
Crosswell was intrigued. "Cheated? I went over the battle record and didn't find any additional forces or mid-battle parameter changes. How'd you cheat?"
The commander explained. "Well, you know how I think, and you know how I apply tricks I'd learned, so you'd see through almost any plan I could come up with myself. So, I didn't leave things up to chance. Because I knew you'd try to exploit your knowledge of how I think to beat me, I borrowed other people's minds- I had a couple of my subordinates, Amagi and Sovetskaya Belorussiya come up with the battle plan, and I executed it to the letter. It was tough to fight against my own instincts, and if it ever felt like you were close to landing a real blow to my forces, you probably were. Amagi also figured that if you relied on learning your opponent's mind to fight them, you had a somewhat cautious tactical disposition, and she and Belo went from there. So, that's what happened."
"Huh." He said. "How about that." Captain Crosswell took out a cigarette. "You wouldn't happen to have a light, would you? I know you don't smoke."
"Some of the others here do, so I keep a lighter on me." Cochrane lit Crosswell's cigarette. "So... What do you think?"
"What I think is that you pass." He took a puff and looked out over the ocean. "If you're thinking on this kind of level, I really don't have any lessons left to teach you."
Cochrane put his hands in his lap. "Well, I'm flattered."
"Cochrane, you know very well what I am and am not prone to. This is not flattery, this is fact. " He paused. "Anyway, you've got good people here, commander."
"The best, Captain."
"Well, you're gonna need 'em." Captain Crosswell got up off of the bench. "Anyway, I should get ready to go."
The commander also stood up. "You're not staying any longer?"
"I have my duties, and you certainly have yours." He began to walk back to his dock, then turned to look back at the commander. "Hey, Commander Cochrane."
"Yes, Captain?"
"I saw that ring of yours. Take care of that woman, all right?"
The commander shrugged. "I do, but I think she takes more care of me than I do of her."
"Yeah... Ain't that the way." Captain Crosswell turned and left, raising his hand goodbye while he walked back towards his ship.
After he was gone, Shangri-La came up to him. "Before you ask, I was hanging around. You're not the only person who takes pictures of interesting moments."
"Yeah, I figured." He turned to look at her. "So, what's up?"
"Some of the girls would like to celebrate a victory with you."
The commander shrugged. "I don't know if that's necessarily something to celebrate. It's not like he was an enemy."
Shangri-La smiled, and looked at her notebook. "For some of the girls, having a victorious commander is enough. After all, not all of them had the luxury of having one, back in the old days."
The commander sighed, and smiled. "All right, I'm coming."