Chapter 129: Contacting Webbs and planning for Mexico. Nami’s need +18

You squeeze Kurumi's hand once before releasing it, turning toward the hatch that leads into the ship's interior. She falls into step beside you, her French maid outfit swaying slightly as she matches your pace. The Pacific breeze carries salt spray across the deck, but the afternoon sun keeps the temperature comfortable.

"Master," Kurumi murmurs as you reach the hatch, "that conversation with Liza went well. She's processing agency concepts faster than expected."

"Erza's combat training is helping," you reply, pulling the hatch open. "Gives her achievement she can feel and see instead of just abstract freedom."

The corridors inside are familiar now, crew members nodding respectfully as you pass. A few glance at Kurumi with knowing expressions, the public encounter on the flight deck has clearly become common knowledge, but nobody shows discomfort. Just acknowledgment.

The command center's door stands propped open when you arrive, revealing the familiar space filled with monitors, communication equipment, and the low hum of active systems. C.C. sits at the central console, her gold eyes tracking what appears to be weather data. Robin stands near the communications station, her dark hair pulled back. Violet works at a secondary console, blonde hair catching the overhead lights.

"Brad," C.C. says without turning. "Didn't expect you back this soon. Thought you'd be occupied with... other matters for longer."

Kurumi's smile carries knowing amusement. "Master is quite efficient with his time management."

"Finished what needed finishing," you reply simply, moving toward the central display. "I need to check the priority list for naval enchantments. And any contact from Mexican survivors or their coast guard."

"Your timing is convenient. Webb's office contacted us ten minutes ago."

Robin glances over her shoulder, blue eyes studying you with that particular intensity that means she's cataloging information. "The international vessel list is on the main display. Webb updated it an hour ago based on confirmed fuel situations."

"Perfect," you say, moving toward the communications station, while looking at the main display: Twenty-three vessels marked urgent - fuel critical within forty-eight hours. Another thirty-seven marked high priority - fuel critical within five days. The preliminary list had eight vessels flagged immediate. Kurumi follows, positioning herself at your side. "I need to update them anyway. I've already finished five ships from their preliminary list."

Robin's blue eyes show interest. "Which vessels?"

"Two Brazilian destroyers, Riachuelo and Independência," you list. "Three European NATO ships, Spanish Méndez Núñez, French Forbin, Italian Alpino."

Violet's fingers pause on her keyboard. "That's ahead of the projected timeline by approximately eight hours."

"Webb needs to know the international distribution is progressing," you confirm. "After the confrontation about USS-only enchantments, demonstrating progress matters."

C.C. finally turns her chair to face you directly. "The confrontation that resulted in Webb committing to genuine international priority lists? That was politically astute. He respects forcing his hand when you're correct."

You move to the communications console. Kurumi steps closer, watching with interest.

"Patch me through to Webb's office, please." you instruct Robin.

She nods, managing multiple controls simultaneously. "Establishing connection now."

The screen flickers, then resolves to show a Navy communications officer aboard USS Portland. "This is Portland communications. Go ahead, Anchorage."

"Brad Collins requesting direct line to Captain Webb or his staff regarding international enchantment schedule updates," you say clearly.

"Stand by."

The hold lasts perhaps thirty seconds before Webb's voice comes through, though no video feed accompanies it. "Collins. I was expecting your call. Status report?"

"Five vessels from your international preliminary list are complete," you state. "Riachuelo, Independência, Méndez Núñez, Forbin, and Alpino. All received standard packages as specified."

A brief pause. "That's... ahead of schedule. The revised timeline had you completing international vessels at five per twelve hours."

"Those numbers sound right, I simply did them all at once." you lie, having forgotten what the false numbers were, keeping your tone professional. "I'll need to wait twelve hours to do the next five."

Another pause, longer this time. When Webb speaks again, his voice carries acknowledgment. "Point taken. The international priority list is being finalized now. Colonel Reeves is coordinating with allied naval commands to determine critical vessels. You'll have the complete list within two hours."

"Copy," you confirm. "Any updates on Mexican survivor contacts? I'm checking for communication from their coast guard or civilian networks."

Robin gestures toward another monitor. "Mexican contact status: nothing direct yet. We've detected some radio chatter from La Paz? civilian bands, mostly distress calls and resource coordination. Their coast guard frequency has been silent for three days."

Webb's tone shifts slightly. "Same, negative contact from Mexican maritime authorities. We're picking up distress signals from La Paz region, fuel shortages reaching critical levels. Population center of approximately eight hundred survivors. But no direct communication attempts toward U.S. naval assets."

You frown, considering. "They're probably assuming U.S. military won't respond to Mexican civilian requests. Or they don't know we're operational."

"Likely both," Webb agrees. "Their last confirmed government contact was four days ago when Baja California officials stopped responding to radio calls. They're isolated and running on fumes."

Kurumi steps closer to the display showing signal sources. "They don't know magical infrastructure exists. They're calculating based on conventional fuel supplies."

"Which means they're potentially hours from complete shutdown," you conclude. "Not days."

C.C. leans forward in her chair, gold eyes thoughtful. "Civilian populations rarely reach out to foreign military forces unless explicitly invited. They're probably broadcasting general distress on emergency frequencies, not targeted requests."

"Should I scan those frequencies?" Robin asks, her hands already moving toward the communications array controls.

"Do it," you confirm, then address Webb again. "Are you opposed to me initiating contact with Mexican survivors? Offering enchantment assistance?"

Webb's response takes longer this time. "That's... politically complicated. Mexican government structure has collapsed. You'd be offering magical infrastructure to civilians without state authority approval."

"There's no state authority left to approve anything," you counter. "Just a lot of people about to run out of fuel who don't know magical solutions exist."

"I'm aware," Webb says carefully. "I'm not opposing the concept. I'm noting that you'd be establishing first contact with a foreign survivor population as an individual actor, not as U.S. military representative. That creates interesting precedent."

Kurumi's hand touches your shoulder lightly. "Master, if Mexican survivors receive enchantments from you directly, it establishes your authority beyond U.S. naval framework. That's what Webb is actually considering."

C.C. interjects before you can respond. "Question: are you planning to offer them the same deal as everyone else? Free enchantments in exchange for cooperation?"

"That's been the pattern," you confirm. "No reason to change it now."

"Except that Mexico has no functional government," C.C. points out. "No central authority to negotiate with. You'd be dealing with survivor communities directly. Different dynamic."

You glance at her, then back at the communications screen. "Webb, are you concerned about jurisdictional precedent or practical outcomes?"

"Practical outcomes," he replies immediately. "If you establish direct relationship with Mexican survivor networks, it reduces their dependence on U.S. military channels for resources. That's strategically useful for preventing future tensions over resource allocation."

Violet's green eyes meet yours briefly before returning to her console. "He's saying it's politically advantageous if you operate independently from U.S. command structure when dealing with international survivors."

"Correct," Webb confirms, apparently hearing her comment through the open channel. "Collins operating as independent magical infrastructure provider creates cleaner diplomatic separation than U.S. Navy offering enchantments to foreign nationals."

You absorb that, thinking through implications. "So you're not opposed to me reaching out to La Paz survivors directly?"

"I'm actively suggesting it," Webb clarifies. "But I'm also noting there's no easy solution to initial contact. They're broadcasting general distress, not responding to specific offers. You'd need to either physically approach their location or find someone who can serve as intermediary."

Robin's voice carries frustration. "I'm scanning emergency frequencies now. Multiple distress broadcasts from Baja California region, but nothing indicating reception of responses. They're calling into void."

"Because everyone who could respond is either dead or struggling with their own survival," C.C. observes quietly. "Mexican coast guard presumably collapsed with rest of governmental structure."

You lean against the console, considering options. The Mexican survivors represent a different challenge - no established command structure, no prior relationship with your network, no context for what you're offering.

"Webb, I'm going to need time to work out approach logistics," you say finally. "This isn't something I can resolve with a quick radio call."

He considers for several seconds before responding. "Broadcast on civilian frequencies. Offer to discuss fuel and resource solutions. See who responds. If they're desperate enough, they'll reach out. If they're not... well, that tells us something too. Portland out."

The connection closes, leaving you standing in the command center with three women watching you thoughtfully.

You lean forward over the central console, controlling the screen to pull up regional mapping data. The display flickers, then resolves into a satellite overview of Baja California.

"First, where is La Paz... Not the La Paz in South America." you ponder aloud, zooming the view southward along the peninsula. The city spreads across the screen in overlapping grays and browns - residential clusters, industrial zones, marina districts.

Robin moves closer to your left side, her blue eyes tracking the coastline features. "Population center approximately eight hundred according to Webb's intelligence. That's the marina district there."

You zoom further, streets resolving into individual blocks. A highway-side fuel station catches your attention - strategically positioned near the main artery leading north out of the city. Perfect visibility for survivors traveling the peninsula.

"That one," you say, tapping the location. "Highway-side gas station. Visible from the main route, accessible to anyone still moving supplies."

C.C.'s gold eyes reflect the screen light as she leans back in her chair. "Logical choice, emphasizing distribution potential."

You nod, then zoom the map out and refocus into mainland Mexico, looking at the highways. "We also want somewhere similar for Mexico... Torreón?"

The display shifts inland, mountains giving way to high desert terrain. Torreón materializes - significantly larger than La Paz, spreading across the Laguna region in organized grid patterns.

"Wait," Violet says quietly from her console, her regenerated fingers pausing mid-keystroke. "That's a Costco, like the ones you enchanted already."

You stare at the distinctive warehouse structure visible in the satellite imagery. A goddamn Costco, eight hundred miles into mainland Mexico.

"Woah, they really got their business out there," you mutter. "But it's perfect. Warehouse infrastructure, bulk storage capacity, parking for convoy access."

Kurumi steps closer, her heterochromatic eyes studying the screen with interest. "Master, if you enchant a Costco that far inland, you establish infrastructure completely independent of coastal naval networks. That's significant political positioning."

"That might be the point," you confirm. "Webb wants me operating independently from U.S. military channels when dealing directly with international survivors. This does exactly that."

You straighten, turning to address the three women at their stations. "Robin, C.C., Violet - when Albedo gets back, I need you four to begin attempting radio contact with Mexican survivor groups. La Paz and inland regions, doesn't matter specifically who you reach as long as they're willing to publicly acknowledge accepting my support."

Robin's, already reaching for various controls. "What terms?"

"Credit basis," you say. "If we're bluffing and they don't get enchantments, they obviously don't pay for nothing. But if they publicly agree to accept magical infrastructure assistance, I'll enchant each locations respectively."

C.C. rotates her chair to face you fully. "You're using their verbal agreement as political cover. If they broadcast acceptance of your offer, it establishes precedent that you're responding to requested assistance rather than unilaterally imposing magical infrastructure on foreign territory."

"Exactly," you confirm. "And if they're desperate enough - which La Paz definitely is with fuel running out in two to five days - they'll agree without hesitation."

Violet's green eyes meet yours. "What frequencies should we monitor?"

"Start with emergency," you instruct. "General distress channels. Robin's been tracking Mexican broadcasts - use her signal observation to identify organized transmission sources."

Robin nods, her dark hair catching the overhead lights. "I've isolated three distinct transmission patterns from La Paz marina district. One appears to be coordinating supply distribution. That's your primary target."

Kurumi's hand touches your shoulder lightly. "Master, establishing this precedent means every other survivor population will expect similar terms. Credit-based magical infrastructure on request."

"Good," you reply. "That's exactly the framework I want. Consensual assistance instead of military-controlled resource allocation. They'll just owe me for the rest or their civilization."

C.C.'s gold eyes show calculating approval. "Webb will recognize this immediately as you building authority structure outside of naval command. He'll either support it because it serves pragmatic coalition interests, or oppose it because it threatens centralized control."

"He already suggested I operate independently when dealing with international survivors," you point out. "This is me taking him at his word."

Violet begins typing commands into her console, pulling up frequency databases. "How long should we attempt contact before considering alternate approaches?"

You check the time display. "Give it two hours. If no response by then, we'll discuss physical approach options."

Robin works across multiple controls simultaneously, configuring transmission arrays. "Broadcasting in Spanish or English?"

"Both if possible," you decide. "Alternate languages every thirty seconds. Make it clear we're offering fuel-independent infrastructure to anyone willing to publicly accept assistance. Though, from what we learned about dimensional travelers having auto-translation, I wonder how it will turn out."

Suddenly the telepathy web carries Nami's voice directly into your mind, but there's a strained quality beneath her usual commanding tone. "Brad. Bridge. Now."

Kurumi's heterochromatic eyes meet yours immediately, her perpetual arousal-attuned senses clearly detecting something. "Master, that's-"

"I know," you confirm, already moving toward the hatch.

The trip to the bridge takes less than two minutes, but Nami's breathing comes harsh through the telepathy connection the entire way. When the hatch opens, she's standing near the captain's chair wearing her usual white blouse top and short skirt, but her legs are pressed together and one hand grips the armrest with white-knuckled intensity.

"Yoruichi's little performance," Nami manages, her orange hair disheveled like she's been running her hands through it. "I watched from the bridge. Saw her legs wrapped around you, heard her screaming your name for everyone to see." Her brown eyes are glazed, pupils dilated. "I wanted to be professional. Wanted to just... ignore it. But the curse-"

You close the distance, pulling her against you and capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. She melts immediately, whimpering into your mouth as your hand slides up her bare thigh beneath that short skirt. Your fingers find her absolutely soaked, no underwear, and she jerks against your touch.

"You tried fighting it?" you ask against her lips, your fingers teasing but not quite giving her what she needs.

She gasps, hips rolling desperately toward your hand. "Tried to-fuck-tried to just ignore it, but watching her made me so horny, and then the curse kicked in and-"

You guide her backward toward the captain's chair, your free hand unbuttoning her top. The fabric falls away, her bra follows immediately after revealing her breasts already flushed and sensitive leaving her topless on her own bridge.

"Kurumi," you say, seating Nami in the chair. "Hold her wrists to her shoulders. Gently."

Kurumi moves behind the chair with fluid grace, her maid outfit swishing. Her pale hands curl around Nami's wrists, pressing them back against the navigator's shoulders in a position that's restraining without being harsh. "Like this, Captain?" Kurumi purrs, her face close to Nami's ear. "You looked so composed giving orders earlier. Now you're trembling."

"Shut up," Nami manages, but there's no heat in it. Just desperate need.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of her skirt, pulling the soaked fabric down her legs and off entirely. Her pussy glistens in the afternoon light streaming through the bridge windows, swollen and needy. You kneel between her spread thighs, hooking her legs over your shoulders.

"Tell me what you need," you instruct, kissing the inside of her right thigh.

"Your mouth," Nami gasps immediately. "Please, Brad. I need your mouth on me or- OH!"

You press your mouth to her clit, tongue circling slowly, and her entire body arches in the chair. Kurumi holds her wrists steady, keeping her pinned while you play.