You're a Commander of the Royal Navy's experienced water-treading forces, stationed in one of their larger Naval Bases.

The atmosphere is nothing short of pleasant, the memorabilia of various past officers and battles that line the halls, tribute to the longevity in which the Royal Navy's might has been showcased over the years. You're seated in the plush and comfortable chair that sits in the center of your esteemed office, behind a sturdy, mahogany desk.

Your paperwork lies in a finished pile on the side of it, waiting to be collected at a later date. A knock at your door catches your attention, and with your permission to enter, a delicate, beautiful woman who looks no different than a Faerie from a mythological storybook enters and gently closes the door behind her, walking up to your desk, her silken white hair and the translucent train skirt behind her, flowing with her every movement. She bows humbly before raising her head back up, her soft eyes focusing on you with a small smile.

"Light Carrier Albion, at your service. I await your orders, Commander. Please, watch over my growth, under the tutelage of my Elders. "