Riveria holds the pill case delicately, examining the small white tablets with the intensity of a schor analyzing a new magical formu.

  "How precisely does it prevent conception?" she asks. "Does it disrupt the biological cycle, or simply create a barrier?"

  "Hormone regution," you expin. "It tricks your body into thinking it's already pregnant, so it doesn't release eggs. No egg, no fertilization possible."

  Sango frowns slightly. "And it's... safe? No permanent damage?"

  "Completely reversible," you confirm. "Stop taking it, fertility returns within a few weeks to a few months. Billions of women used it before the outbreak."

  Musashi tilts her head. "In my world. Warriors could love without consequence."

  "It happened... it happened a lot," you agree. "Not always for the better, but the choice itself was important."

  Riveria hands the case back to Maria, her analytical expression thoughtful. "Remarkable. Simple chemistry achieving what required complex rituals in my world."

  Yoruichi stretches beside you, still gloriously naked and unbothered. "Any other questions, or can we move on?"

  Sango shakes her head slowly. Musashi looks satisfied. Riveria appears lost in thought.

  You stand, gesturing toward the door. "Maria, can you check with Nami and Robin? The One Piece world was... unpredictable with it's technology. Simply double check they know about contraception options."

  Maria nods once, her expression businesslike. "I'll handle it."

  The group files out of the RV. The harbor stretches before you, floodlights washing the shoreline in pale white. The LARCs are gone, swallowed by distance and dark water.

  As the others move ahead, you narrow the Telepathy Web to just Yoruichi.

  "I won't push for the contract," you send privately. "But I warned you I was possessive when you got on top of me. You accepted that."

  Her presence returns immediately, amused and sharp. "I remember."

  "Thank you for pulling the three out of their shells," you continue. "Letting them see they don't need to be defensive about sex around me will help keep things calm."

  Yoruichi's amusement deepens. "You're welcome. Though I didn't do it entirely for altruistic reasons."

  She gnces back over her shoulder at you, amber eyes bright in the floodlights. "Watching you teach while I rode you was extremely satisfying."

  You snort quietly. "I noticed."

  "Good," she replies, her tone pyful. "Because I pn to do it again. Often."

  She turns away, joining the others near the shoreline where Navy crews coordinate loading sequences. Her walk is confident, unbothered by her recent nudity or the intimacy you just shared.

  Behind you, the RV sits quiet, the lesson complete.

  The harbor sits, ready for activity. Floodlights reflect off the water. The USS Portnd rides at anchor offshore, waiting.

  Somewhere beyond the horizon, USS Anchorage approaches with your future home aboard.

  You settle onto a supply crate near the staging area, posture loose, rifle resting within reach. Floodlights hum overhead. The harbor moves with quiet efficiency. Crews check lines. Engines idle.

  Rin approaches first and sits beside you without comment, close enough that her shoulder brushes your arm. She folds her hands in her p, eyes scanning the water.

  Mikasa stops on your other side. She does not sit at first. After a moment, she lowers herself onto the crate edge, one knee angled toward you, presence solid and watchful.

  Kurumi slips in behind you without warning and presses herself lightly against your back, chin near your shoulder. Her presence is deliberate. She tilts her head just enough for everyone to see the smile.

  Sango sits a short distance in front of you, legs folded, Hiraikotsu resting within reach. Musashi remains standing nearby, arms crossed, eyes on the water, posture casual but ready.

  Nova arrives st, pausing briefly before sitting cross-legged on the concrete at your feet. She leans back against the crate, rexed, head tilted up toward you.

  “This part always feels strange,” Rin says quietly. “Waiting, when everything is already in motion.”

  “It won’t be long,” you say.

  Kurumi’s voice is soft. “Ten minutes,” she says. “Plenty of time.”

  Mikasa’s hand rests on your forearm.

  Sango gnces toward the harbor entrance. “The water’s calm,” she says. “Too calm, maybe.”

  Musashi snorts lightly. “Or the kind of calm you get right before work starts.”

  Nova smiles faintly. “Ten minutes is nothing.”

  Kurumi shifts her weight against your back, just enough to be felt. “Some people get restless,” she adds, tone innocent.

  Rin does not look at her. She leans in a little more, shoulder firm against yours.

  The clock ticks forward. Two statues watching from the bluff.

  You check your phone and rise smoothly, steadying Nova as she steps back to her feet. Kurumi straightens behind you, grin unchanged.

  “Alright,” you send through the Telepathy Web. “Anchorage is twenty minutes out. We move now. Albedo. Violet. C.C. Kurumi. Mikasa. Rin. Sinon. Shinobu. Nova. Sango. Musashi. RIBs are ready. We’re heading to the Portnd.”

  Acknowledgments return in sequence.

  Albedo moves from her coordination point toward the shoreline. Violet and C.C. break from the flight line and head in together. Sinon and Shinobu arrive from the RVs. Mikasa and Rin fall in at your sides. Sango rises smoothly. Musashi steps in behind her.

  The two Gaxy Professional RIBs idle at the waterline, engines steady.

  You board the first RIB. Mikasa follows immediately. Rin steps in close behind. Nova hesitates only a second, then settles onto your p, turning sideways so her weight is banced and comfortable. She rexes there easily, one hand resting against your chest. Albedo takes position at the front, wings folded tight. Violet and C.C. stand near the console, focused.

  The engines throttle up.

  The RIBs pull away from shore, cutting clean lines across the dark water toward the USS Portnd.

  Ahead, the ship’s lights glow steady and familiar.

  Nova's warm weight comfortable across your p as the boat cuts through dark water. Your hand moves carefully through her blonde hair, while she leans into the touch. You ask telepathically. "Do you want to talk?"

  Nova doesn't answer. You continue petting her gently.

  A few minutes ter, Violet stands near the console, radio handset pressed to her ear. Her regenerated fingers handle the equipment with careful precision, still adjusting to their regained sensitivity.

  "USS Portnd, this is civilian RIB Alpha," she transmits, her voice clear and formal. "Approaching your position with twelve passengers, requesting well deck access."

  The radio crackles. "RIB Alpha, Portnd actual. Well deck is clear and ready. You're authorized to proceed directly in."

  The massive ship looms ahead, floodlights washing across gray steel. Beyond it, farther out on the water, another shape moves slow and deliberate. The USS Anchorage is already visible, running lights steady as it reduces speed for approach.

  The well deck's stern gate yaws open, revealing the cavernous interior beyond. Your RIB glides through the opening first. Water sloshes gently against the interior ramp as the throttle cuts. The second RIB follows thirty seconds ter, both craft settling into position with ease.

  You rise smoothly, steadying Nova as she steps off your p. The group disembarks onto the ramp, Mikasa moving with precision, Rin scanning the space habitually, Albedo's wings folding tight as she surveys the interior.

  Maria and Erza head toward the two 43-foot nding crafts secured against the port bulkhead. Both women checking tie-downs and cargo restraints. They remain fully packed with looted containers from the Eureka high-end district.

  Captain Webb approaches from the command level, Colonel Reeves at his side. Both men wear Navy working uniforms, Webb's captain insignia catching the overhead lights.

  "Good timing," Webb says. "Anchorage is on final approach. Five minutes to transfer position. I'll be transferring over with you to finalize the handoff, protocol requires the receiving party and transferring authority to sign off together."

  Reeves nods once. "Their captain will remain aboard during the ceremony. Standard asset transfer procedure."

  The enchanted speedboat throttles into the well deck behind the RIBs, engine purring smoothly as it settles into position. Hinata and Rika step off together, moving with synchronized efficiency.

  Hinata approaches directly, posture professional.

  "External and internal scans complete," she reports quietly. "No sabotage detected. No charges, no anomalous voids or structural weaknesses. Hull appears solid across all sections."

  Rika confirms with a slight nod. "Propulsion systems, balst controls, and fuel lines all check normal. External access points are sealed per standard naval procedure. No hidden compartments or suspicious modifications."

  "Crew behavior?" you ask.

  Rika's expression remains neutral. "Professional. Alert but not hostile. They're aware something significant is happening but don't seem to understand the full scope."

  Webb gnces to Hinata and Rika. “Appreciate the confirmation. That clears the st red fg on my end.” He exhales slowly, some tension finally leaving his shoulders. “Matches what my people told me, but confirmation helps.”

  You tilt your head slightly. “Aww. The captain was just as worried as I was. Nice to know I wasn’t alone in my paranoia.”

  Webb snorts despite himself. “Paranoia comes with the job.”

  “It’s only paranoia when people aren’t actually out to get you,” you say calmly. “And there happen to be a lot of people out to get me.”

  You meet his eyes. “Speaking of which. How are Doyle and Rawlins behaving?”

  Webb’s expression tightens. “Watching. Careful. Rawlins is still unhappy you didn’t accept his ‘protective custody’ offer. Doyle’s testing nguage and precedent, not authority. Neither can move without burning their own political capital.”

  Reeves adds quietly, “For now.”

  Behind you, Maria calls out from the nding craft. "Both LCs are green. Cargo secure. Ready to move on transfer."

  Erza appears at the hatch of the second craft, giving a thumbs-up.

  The well deck hums with quiet activity, checking equipment, preparing for the imminent arrival.

  Webb gnces toward the open stern gate. "She’s right on schedule."

  You gnce toward the luxury speedboat idling at the Portnd's well deck edge, then back to Webb and Reeves with a slight grin.

  "Captain Webb, Colonel Reeves," you say casually, "it seems to me that while my crew will be taking the RIBs and Landing Craft over to the Anchorage, there's nobody currently avaible to take the Fancy, Luxury Speedboat. Able to reach 150mph... and with a few extra minutes to spare, I can only imagine what an extra driver could get up to before the Anchorage opens the well deck."

  Webb's expression shifts immediately, professional mask cracking into genuine amusement. "Are you seriously suggesting-"

  "I'm not suggesting anything," you interrupt smoothly. "Just noting a tactical asset sitting idle."

  Reeves snorts quietly. "Tactical asset."

  "Absolutely," you confirm. "Someone needs to verify handling characteristics in combat conditions. Might as well be command staff."

  Webb shakes his head slowly, but his eyes betray him, there's a spark there, the kind that comes from months of crushing responsibility suddenly offered a five-minute escape valve. "Fuck it," Webb says abruptly. "Colonel, you're with me."

  Reeves doesn't hesitate. "Yes sir."

  The two men move toward the speedboat with military efficiency that barely conceals their boyish enthusiasm. Webb settles behind the controls while Reeves takes the copilot position, both strapping in with practiced speed.

  The speedboat's vibration sounds like an engine escaping the silent field, roaring to life, a deep, throaty sound that echoes dully through the well deck. Webb throttles up smoothly, the craft lifting slightly as it accelerates out through the stern gate into open water.

  You watch them disappear into the darkness, the speedboat's running lights arcing wide as Webb opens the throttle fully. The sound fades quickly, swallowed by distance.

  "Boys will be boys," Albedo observes dryly beside you.

  “We’ll have years to py with it after tomorrow,” you say lightly. “I can already picture the excitement on your beautiful face, white bikini, tearing across the ocean at full speed. They only get a few minutes.”

  The RIBs load up methodically, simir as we arrived. Mikasa, Rin, Nova, Violet, C.C., Hinata, Rika, Sango, Musashi, everyone finds their positions. The small flotil departs Portnd's well deck in line, boats purring as they cross the dark water toward the Anchorage.

  The amphibious transport dock looms ahead, floodlights washing across gray steel. The stern gate stands open, revealing the cavernous well deck beyond. Water sloshes gently against the interior ramp.

  Your flotil glides through the opening. The RIBs settle first, followed by the Landing Craft. Crews secure lines quickly, moving with quiet competence.

  The speedboat appears thirty seconds ter, Webb cutting throttle smoothly as he guides the craft inside. Both men are grinning like idiots, faces flushed with adrenaline and wind.

  "Tactical assessment complete," Webb reports, completely deadpan. "Asset performs within acceptable parameters."

  "Gd to hear it," you reply, matching his tone.

  A Navy captain approaches from the command level, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing working khakis with commander's insignia. His name tape reads 'MORRISON'.

  "Captain Webb," Morrison greets formally. "Mr. Collins. Welcome aboard USS Anchorage."

  Webb returns the greeting professionally. "Captain Morrison. Appreciate the smooth coordination."

  Albedo steps forward immediately, accepting the transfer documents from Morrison's aide. Her golden eyes scan the pages with inhuman speed, processing legal nguage faster than any human could.

  Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Thirty.

  Albedo looks up. "No traps. Standard asset transfer protocol. Authorization is clean."

  She hands you the documents and a pen.

  You sign quickly, three copies, each witnessed by Webb and Morrison in turn.

  Morrison countersigns the final copy. "Transfer complete as of 2045 hours, Saturday. USS Anchorage, two LARCs, one CH-53 King Stallion, and one AH-1Z Viper are now under your authority."

  He extends his hand. You shake it once, firmly.

  "Congratutions," Morrison says quietly. "You just became one of the few private citizens to own a warship."

  "A priceless moment that will need to wait a few minutes before celebrating," you say, turning toward both men. "I need to complete the enchantments immediately, I'll likely be back before you get the first boat out."

  Morrison nods once. "Bridge is yours. I'll have my crew clear out."

  "Musashi, Nova," you send through the Telepathy Web. "With me."

  Both women fall in smoothly as you move toward the bridge. Musashi's hand rests near her katana, posture rexed but alert. Nova moves with quiet precision, violet eyes scanning the passageways.

  The bridge is compact and functional, navigation consoles, helm controls, a tactical dispy dominating the forward bulkhead, multiple wall-mounted side screens along it's back wall. Morrison's crew filters out quickly, leaving the space empty except for your guards.

  You approach the centermost wall-mounted screen, pcing your palm against the cool gss. The familiar pull of mana flows outward immediately.

  "Interface," you murmur. "Connection. Network Node. Energy Conversion. Refuel. Repair. Refill. Cleanliness. Thermostasis. Vigor. Regenerate. Aging Reversal. Aura Ward. Lucidity. Zero-Sleep. Warding Field. Muffling Aura. Silent Field. Mana Capacity."

  The enchantments lock into pce one by one, the screen's surface brightening with faint golden light. You extend the effect deliberately, letting it ripple outward through the ship's hull, a visible glow washing across gray steel, bright enough to be seen from shore.

  Musashi watches the light spread with quiet approval. "Impressive dispy."

  "Figured we might as well make it count," you reply.

  The mana cost settles at 192 for the whole package, numbers almost identical to the USS Portnd. The network confirms integration immediately, USS Anchorage is now fully operational.

  You turn toward the door. "Helicopter next."

  The UH-1Y Bell Venom sits in the hangar bay, rotors out, door open. C.C. and Violet stand beside the cockpit, both examining avionics.

  Violet looks up as you approach, her regenerated fingers still moving carefully over the control panel. "Systems are nominal. Ready for enchantment."

  "Good," you say, stepping up into the cargo bay.

  You pce your hand against a side-mounted screen near the crew seats. The mana flows again, this time settling into the helicopter's frame.

  "Interface. Connection. Energy Conversion. Refuel. Repair. Refill. Cleanliness. Thermostasis. Vigor. Aging Reversal. Aura Ward. Lucidity. Zero-Sleep. Warding Field. Silent Field. Mana Capacity."

  The enchantments apply easy, 157mana. The helicopter's systems hum to life, enchantments integrating seamlessly with mechanical components.

  C.C. gnces toward you, golden eyes calm. "We're ready to depart."

  Kurumi, Mikasa, Rin, Yoruichi, Sinon, Shinobu, and Nova board quickly, each woman settling into the seats. Kurumi grins as she straps in. Mikasa checks her gear methodically. Rin sits near the door, crimson hair catching the hangar lights.

  Yoruichi leans against the bulkhead, amber eyes bright. "Try not to have too much fun without us."

  "I'll try, but who doesn't love moving..." you reply dryly.

  C.C. takes the pilot seat, Violet beside her as copilot. Both women move through pre-flight checks with mechanical precision.

  The rotors begin to spin, building speed steadily. The door closes, sealing the team inside.

  You step back as the helicopter lifts smoothly, rising through the hangar bay opening and out into the night sky. Running lights blink steadily as it banks west toward Redding, the two Apache escorts will fall into formation from Trinidad.

  The sound fades quickly, swallowed by distance and darkness.

  Behind you, the well deck remains active, Maria and Erza coordinating LARC deployment, Navy crew preparing for departure, floodlights washing across steel and water.

  Morrison approaches from the command level, his expression neutral. "Enchantments complete?"

  "Complete," you confirm. “You’re clear to continue crew departure.”

  You gnce briefly toward the well deck, where engines hum and lines are already loosening. “If it helps, you’re welcome to use the RIBs or the Landing Craft for personnel transfer once they’re clear.”

  Morrison inclines his head, a small but genuine gesture of appreciation. “That’s appreciated. We’ll keep it efficient.”

  Below, the well deck shifts into motion. Maria signals sharply, and one of the LARCs rumbles forward, its massive tires churning water as it slides cleanly out of the dock. Erza guides the second in close succession, both vehicles turning shoreward under floodlights, their wakes rippling across the steel-lined bay.

  The Anchorage remains steady at anchor as the LARCs pull away, the first tangible sign that the ship’s logistics now answer to you.

  Morrison watches the departure for a moment longer, then turns back to his crew. “Let’s move.”

  SnafuSam