AN: Here we go again with me releasing a chapter months overdue. I'm not going to give you the excuses of "I was busy with this" or "Trouble with that." A lot of different factors kept me from writing but that's neither here nor there. Regardless, I'm back and ready to get writing again! Expect weekly or biweekly uploads, depending on my schedule and chapter sizes.

Again, I don't own Kancolle or it's characters, only my OC blah blah legal jargon. Enjoy!

9:13 am, January 31th, 2021

Makeshift Practice Range, Midway Atoll

Early morning in the Pacific, one would envision the morning sun beaming down onto pearly white beaches and casting a harsh glare off the bright blue sea. So would William but to his dismay, it looks like the Atlantic has followed him across the world. The weather took a turn overnight, dreary cloud filled skies and uncomfortable winds replace the vacation-esque scenery William had been privy to the day prior. He had hoped that he wouldn't have break out the Gore-Tex only a day into his new position but the world has other plans obviously.

"This should be a good wake up drill!" William says from under a hood and ballcap, turning to the group of sleepy eyed ship girls at his flank. "I've gotten the base crew to set up a few different obstacle courses for you all to practice on. This is mainly for me to observe how you girls operate and collect some data for myself, I have to get some facts nailed down before we start live combat drills."

Most of the girls absently roll their eyes at this revelation, William could see why to a certain extent. As ships, most of the girls under his command were quite combat hardened in another life. Whether a ship's historical experience would affect their combat ability remains to be see though.

"As with any drill, you have to be properly warmed up first. Get in the water and uh…..do whatever reincarnated warships do I guess. I know this will be Haida's and Huron's first time using their rigs and since we aren't really short on time, take as long as you need. If you are lucky, you all might be able to finish before it decides to rain."

William shifts inside of his Gore-Tex jacket. Earlier that morning, he'd considered putting off the exercise due to the sea state and looming dark clouds above. That idea was quickly shelved when he realized his girls would have to be able to fight in any sea conditions, Abyssals wouldn't be bothered to care about weather, so neither would they.

Getting his first supply report from Vulcan that morning, William feels quite confident. Between the supplies already on base and the weekly resupply runs, Vulcan assured him they could operate this number of ship girls without issue for the foreseeable future. A large increase in ship girl numbers or a resource guzzling capital ship may throw a wrench into that plan but for now atleast, there's no way they could run out of supplies with the proper supervision.

With a pair of binoculars around his neck and his tablet snug in it's waterproof case, William stands on the low pier as each ship girl hops down into the water below. A series of splashes accompany the girls as they impact the water but to his surprise, they only sink about to their ankles before bobbing back to the surface, standing on the top of the water. As the girls begin to move, the water parts in front of them, somewhat resembling how a ship's bow cuts through the frothing sea.

It reminds William a lot of skating. The girls don't simply just walk or run on the water, they seem to be pushing themselves forward with some unknown force and their bodies momentum. After good ten minute period of wobbly footing near the dock, Huron and Haida join the rest of the girls as they begin skimming around the bay. Alternating between speeds, the girls bank left and right, scattering across the inlet. Tartar skids to a halt, sending herself back into reverse in a single smooth motion. Haida and Huron repeat the motion along with her, entering into a rough arrowhead formation as they speed backwards. Tenryuu and Omaha skate along gracefully, slowly weaving in and out of each other's wakes with Kidd comically lurking behind them.

Even after such a limited viewing, William could already start to make out some trends. The four Fubuki class derivatives seem to be holding back, compared to the more aggressive high speed maneuvering of the Allied destroyers. Whether this is due to differences in doctrine, the girls themselves or the equipment, only time would tell. Tenryuu and Omaha don't seem to be doing any extremely tight turns themselves but that may simply due to that fact that they're cruisers, inherently less maneuverable than destroyers.

William watches the girls go about their business, twisting and turning in every direction, seemingly ignoring the less than optimal sea conditions around them, bar the occasional crashing wave at their feet. A particularly strong gust of wind screeches across the inlet, causing about nine different skirts to be flung up, accompanied by various embarrassed yelps and indifferent shrugs.

'Maybe I can get onboard with this weather after all.' The Admiral chuckles to himself.

"I'll shell you where you stand if you saw anything!" Akebono and Murakumo scream in unison from across the water, leveling turrets and torpedo tubes at the dock.

"Huh?" The Admiral shrugs, "I dunno what you two are on about, my hood flew up with the wind."

The two Japanese destroyers angrily mutter something between glares as Haida and Huron speed across the harbor, barreling towards the two unaware Akatsuki class destroyers chugging merrily along beside each other.

"Ready!" Haida shouts, "Aye Ready!" Huron says, finishing the motto as the Tribal's launch themselves forward. Scooping the smaller Akatsuki sisters onto their shoulders in one fluid motion. Akatsuki giggles happily as Haida speeds up, doing a wide turn around Tenryuu and Omaha. The comically stoic pair of Huron and Hibiki follow, with Hibiki letting out a deadpan "Yaaaay" as they sail past.

The older Japanese destroyers eventually get into the spirit too, doing a mock torpedo run against Tartar and Kidd near the end of the warm up. William's fingers fly across the tablet's screen as he writes down a mix of speculations, observations and things to test in the future, visiting Vulcan again after this would likely be a good idea. As the girls slowly return to the dock, William readies the main event.

"This part should be interesting." William says, hefting his binoculars, "Time to do some maneuvering drills."

Murakumo crosses her arms, "Hmph, what's even the point of this? You don't need practice when you are the best in the world."

"Best in the world huh?" Tartar says with a chuckle, "Do you even hear yourself? I think you are getting senile in your old age, grandma."

"Well, if you think you are better, now's the time to prove it." The Admiral smirks, "See that green buoy to the right? Start over there and come into the course at 30 knots. It's pretty simple, get through the course while staying inside the marked areas. It might be a bit rough but stay with it."

"Tenryuu, why don't you go first?" William questions, "You can set a good example, right?"

"Fufufu" She mutters, drawing her sword and twirling it in her hands, "The Admiral wants to start off with the best eh? Fine with me."

"You don't need the sword."

Tenryuu coughs awkwardly, sliding the sword back into it's hilt in one smooth but very exaggerated motion.

Setting up her vector, Tenryuu begins her run. The lighting coming from her rigging dims slightly for a second as comes up to close to her maximum speed. Taking the first corner a bit too sharply, the cruiser struggles for a moment as she loses her balance mid turn. Plowing face first into a wooden Abyssal cutout, the momentum from the impact sending her careening through the once well organized obstacle course.

William sighs as the other girls howl with laughter, "This is going to be a long fucking morning."

A few hours later…..

"That will be enough, thankfully." William says to the group of exhausted ship girls sprawled out on the pier in front of him, most of them gasping for air. To put it nicely, the training session had issues. Though all of the girls experienced problems maneuvering in such close quarters, the Japanese girls seem to have even more trouble than their Allied counterparts. Tenryuu's gung ho attitude is good for morale….but not much else. Omaha's rigging look to be weighing her down, the morning's heavy seas affecting her ability to respond to the needed rapid movements of the exercise.

As for the Fubuki's, their only major issue seems to be the lack of stability, most likely due to the fact that these girls rigging must be before the major rebuild in the 1930's. Luckily, the four Allied destroyers seem to be free of any major problems.

That all being said, the girls all need some serious work before they face real combat. Doing a face plant when trying to dodge torpedoes or shellfire is not exactly acceptable and seeing how William now has enough falls, splashes and tumbles for an entire episode of Wipeout, more training can't come quickly enough.

"Well….that could have gone better…" Omaha states quietly, twirling her long braid around a fingertip.

"Better?!" Murakumo huffs, "We all sucked!"

Tartar nods her head, "I have to agree with her this time, that was embarrassing for everyone involved."

Akatsuki drops her expression and gaze down to the planks below, William quickly gives her a reassuring pat on the head as he leans down to her height.

"Psst. Between me and you, you sucked the least." He winks, putting a little twinkle back in the destroyers eyes.

"I wouldn't be too hasty." He says, standing back up. "It's everybody's first drill of the day."

"However..." The Admiral smirks deviously as he pulls up a video on his tablet, the the girls gathering around to see. Pressing play as the video begins to roll, it shows Haida on one of her later runs as she speeds out of the course, giving a big thumbs up as she looks towards the camera. Not paying attention, she smashes into Akebono, who's on her way to the starting line, sending both destroyers tumbling like ragdolls across the water.

"Admiral!" Haida cries as her face reddens, "Was that really necessary!?"

"What?" He laughs, "That one is my favorite wipeout of the day. You nailed the course and Akebono too!"

"Shitty wannabe destroyer can't look where she's going." The salty destroyer mumbles, "Shitty asshole Admiral with his miniature television thing."

William checks the time before tucking his tablet into the inside pocket of his jacket. 11:50 am, dinner would be ready soon. He claps his hands together, "Good work everyone. Time to break for lunch, I have some business with Vulcan then I'll join you all in the mess hall."

Huron snaps to attention, causing the rest of the girls to follow suit. "Sir!"

"Dismissed everyone, make sure to leave some food for me."

'Now.' William thinks as he scratches his chin, 'Where the hell was Vulcan's office again?'

12:02 pm, January 31th, 2021

Arsenal, Midway Atoll

"Hey there, Vulcan."

A few hundred meters from the Command Center, a medium sized warehouse stands amongst an enclave of palm trees. Beside the large door on the front of the structure, the repair ship in question leans up against the beige painted outer wall.

She nods her head in acknowledgement, "The Doctor told me you were coming to talk to me about some issues you found out this morning during training, I thought I would give you a tour of the Arsenal and storage area while we are here."

"Sounds good to me, I haven't got to explore too much of the base yet myself. I doubt I will until I get a secretary, Montgomery decided to give out my contact info to every major member of the project. Rest in piece my poor inbox."

"I feel your pain Admiral. Resource won't stop spamming emails to come visit her in Portsmouth and with all the work Vestal and Medusa have going on, it's hard to even have a conversation."

A reinforced steel door sits to the left of the main warehouse doors, a keypad and keycard mechanism both anchored prominently into the frame.

"Our Japanese friends in Yokosuka had some issues with larger ships raiding the supply areas without permission, so this facility has a few measures to prevent that or just make it obvious that someone broke in." Vulcan explains as her and William approach the locked door.

William produces a keycard from a lanyard around his neck, untucking it from his parka. A robotic voice emanates from the slot as he swipes his card, accompanied by an orange light on the panel.

"Please enter your identification code within 30 seconds."

Punching in his ID code, the light on the panel turns green as door unlocks with a beep and a satisfying click.

"I don't think any of our girls will be stealing supplies but I suppose it's a good insurance plan. If anything, I'd worry about a Ensign with sticky fingers."

William steps into the warehouse, taken aback somewhat by the emptiness of the building that he guessed would be holding vital supplies. A few crates and shipping containers were strewn about but other than that, not even close to enough to sustain a base of this size.

"Hey Vulcan, I thought you told me this place was well stocked?"

The repair ship calmly walks by the Admiral, approaching the small control panel off to the side of one of the grey shipping crates. Pushing a few buttons, a good section floor itself begins to descend with a cacophony of metallic squeaks and the whirring of engines.

"You really think that the Office of Naval Intelligence would have an isolated navy base keep its supplies in such an easily destroyed area?" Vulcan chuckles to herself, "From what I've seen so far, every vital resource is stored below the surface in a large underground warehouse. We also have auxiliary command positions, living quarters and a ship girl launching area incase the island is placed under a continuous bombing attack."

"I'm guessing there is more entrances to this complex around the island?" William states as the lift comes to the bottom of the shaft with a loud clang. The two step out into an expansive storage area, supply officers run past with clipboards as forklifts carry and arrange containers into stacks. William can make out munition crates, some small arms, torpedoes and even what looks like some missiles poking out of a shipping crate.

Vulcan nods her head, "Yes, there's multiple other lifts for bringing supplies from the runway and shafts to bring the staff down here in case of an emergency."

"Well I can't really say ONI is ill prepared but still, makes you think what this place was used for before huh?"

The pair walk down one of the wide hallways branching off from the main area, arriving in sizable room, cluttered with what looks like ship girl rigging parts, scrap metal and a myriad of machining tools.

Plopping her rear down into a computer chair in the middle of the cluttered room, Vulcan absent mindedly spins a few rotations in the seat before sliding across the room to what looks to be her main work area.

"I'm guessing you didn't came just for a tour, you want to ask about modifying some of the ship girls right?"

William plucks his tablet from it's pocket, "Yes, I noted some issues in this morning's drill that I would like to show you."

Scrolling through the videos he'd taken earlier, Vulcan watches each of the girls run through the course in silence, nodding to herself occasionally and scribbling on a nearby notepad.

"It looks to me like some historically significant problems have reared their ugly head even in the girls." The Admiral says as the last video clip comes to an end, "The Fubuki class girls were slipping and falling all over the place, meaning their riggings must be modeled after the ships before they received the fleet wide stability rebuilds between 1935 and 1937."

Vulcan lets out a low whistle, "That's pretty close Admiral, you sure know a lot about the Fubuki class themselves."

"Well if there's anything I can pride myself on, it's that I know a hell of a lot about WWII era ships." William says with a grin, "Besides, that's part of the reason they brought me onboard for this project."

'As far as I know, it's the only damn reason I'm here.' He thinks to himself with a bit of uncertainty.

"There is two main components to a ship girl." Vulcan continues, "Her physical body and the rigging. The rigging houses all the weapons, fire control systems, radar sets and so on. Unless we are talking about a major or ahistorical reconstruction, rigging is relatively simply to modify. The body itself is what affects stability, armor, engine machinery and etcetera. I can get the original plans on the database to do the refits but because we have four Fubuki's who need these refits, I'm going to need an entire day at minimum to properly operate, install the modifications and let them recover. They are going to lose a few knots in speed but I think it's worth it, I'll try to put some more light anti-aircraft weaponry on their rigging while I'm at it but no promises."

William nods, "Well I can take a few knots of speed loss if you can get them to stay on their feet in turns."

The repair ship removes her ballcap, twirling it on her pointer finger as she shakes her ponytail out, letting down her shoulder lengthy ashy hair hang freely.

"Judging from what I've seen, that should be the worst of our problems. The Allied destroyers are all relatively up to date when it comes to their refits, I'd recommend giving Tartar the standard mid-war refit for the Tribal class destroyers. I'll replace her 'X' turret with a 4 inch dual purpose gun, reposition her 40mm AA gun up a few decks like the Canadians, mount some dual 20mm Oerlikon guns along with cutting down her masts and stacks to allow better angles of fire for her AA guns. Since it's all on her rigging, I can do all this within the space of a few hours, so no big deal there."

"That's quite reasonable, sounds like a plan. What about Tenryuu and Omaha?"

Vulcan presses the power button on the laptop sitting on her desk, "Tenryuu looks to be in her 1942 as sunk condition, meaning she's perfectly fine for the time being. Omaha on the other hand, is in her 1925 layout, meaning she's got some top heaviness and stability issues. I would advise giving her some superstructure changes, take off those mine laying racks and removing two of the lower aft torpedo tubes and 6 inch guns. She'll lose some firepower but that stability is more important. Again, I'll throw on some improved light AA weapons while I'm at it. Since I'm only working on the rigging this time, it's safe to say I could do it within an afternoon."

William lets out a sigh as he paces back and forth, "So basically what you are telling me is that I won't be able to start proper fleet operations until next Friday at best?"

"Hey, these things take time and resources sir." Vulcan states, pulling up a schematic for a dual 20mm Oerlikon mount on her laptop screen.

The Admiral stops his pacing, "What kind of resources are we talking here?"

"Don't worry about it, the minor work to Omaha and Tartar won't take very much. The Fubuki's will obviously take up more but even then, it should not be an issue. We have enough resources to do any emergency sorties if need be."

"I guess I can live with that." William shrugs, "Would you work on the riggings first? I'd like to have as many ships as possible on standby incase we have any Abyssal attacks on the base. It's pretty quiet for being the frontlines."

"Alright then Admiral, I'll get right to it then." She says, slinging a weathered tool belt around her waist as she carries her laptop over to the workplace on the opposite side of the room. "I should be able to get Tartar and Omaha's rigs done today, so I'll get back to you when I'm done."

"Thanks Vulcan. By the way, did you eat yet? I can bring you down something from the mess if you want, since I'm heading over there now."

She waves him off, hauling a large hunk of metal up onto her workbench with little effort. "Don't worry Admiral, I stopped in and got something before I met with you."

"Alright, just wanted to make sure, later." William says with a small wave, exiting the room. As he steps out into the hallway and picks up a brisk pace, the thoughts of the two supply ships mouth watering cooking hauling him closer to the mess hall with every step. Retracing the process, the Admiral exits the Arsenal and steps back out into the sands of the atoll…..on closer inspection, the very wet sands of the Atoll.

The omnipresent patter of rain reverberates through the jackets hood as William trudges towards the mess hall. Between dodging the built up puddles of water on his path, William notices a group of base personnel carrying some familiar boxes into the Command Center from a Humvee outside. One of the yeomen loses his footing on the slippery steps of the building, tumbling ass first back on the concrete below.

Seeing the contents of the bin laying strewn out under the pouring rain, the Admiral leaps into a sprint. With the cold tinge of water soaking through his boots and into the socks beneath, he comes to a halt in front of the enlisted man, who at this point is desperately trying get all the books back into the plastic crate they just came loose from.

"Hey! What the hell do….."

William stops himself mid scream, as the Enlisted man frantically hurries his pace.

"Sir! I am extremely sorry for the mess, please forgive me!"

The Admiral mentally changes gears in a second, regret eclipsing his anger. He wanted to verbally beat this enlisted idiot upside the head for spilling hundreds of dollars worth of pristine source material out onto the wet concrete but on the other hand, it made him think. Only a few short years ago, William was in the same boat, doing mindless menial labour for some cocky asshole superior who was more than happy to verbally tear him a new orifice if even the smallest detail wasn't to his liking. Was this really what he wanted to turn into? The same prick he and his fellow service members hated? The poor bastard didn't even look older than nineteen or twenty, fell on his ass in the pouring rain and now he's getting ribbed by an officer who has no actual business being in his position besides circumstance?

William comes into a crouch, picking up a hardcover copy of U.S. Battleships: An Illustrated Design History and quickly slips it back into the bin.

"Sorry about the outburst Yeoman…..Mackenzie." He says, glancing down at the man's nametag. "Are you alright?" The young man sports a clean shaven face and freckles dotting his face, a small bit of red colored buzzcut visible underneath his jacket's hood.

"Y-yes sir!" He says, stacking the last book into the container and rushing up into the open door of the Command Center. William follows, removing his hood as he steps out of the Pacific's latest gift to the world.

"I'm very sorry sir, I'll take this up to your office."

William lets out a sigh, "Take your time, that's where I'm going too."

The Admiral follows behind the Yeoman, a trail of water droplets marking their path up the staircase and to the office. As the Mackenzie grips the bin with one hands and jiggles the door handle with another, the door opens and all color drains out of his face like a bathtub with the plug pulled.

"Yeoman Mackenzie! What took you so long?" The familiar voice bellows out, "You know we have other things to do on the base today!"

Poking his head around the door frame, William instantly see's the reason behind the enlisted man's reaction. Lieutenant Grayson is standing amongst the various boxes, crates and bubble wrapped items scattered around the Admiral's office.

Grayson immediately notices the deep wet patch and accompanying sand on the Yeoman's uniform. From what few years of experience he had, William can sense the Lieutenants oncoming verbal explosion and wiggles past the Yeoman and into his office.

The Lieutenant's attitude takes a drastic shift, "Sir!" He snaps off, "I apologise about the mess, we were told to unload your belongings here at the nearest convenient time. I'm assuming Yeoman Mackenzie was with you then?"

"Sort of." William states, hearing a slightly audible gulp coming from the doorframe. He places his coat on the hanger in the corner along with his hat, tidying his hair with one hand.

"I was running back to the building and I crashed into the Yeoman here. We both took a tumble, that's what happens when you are in a hurry and using your situational awareness." Jabbing a thumb at the man in question, as he shimmies out of his waterproof pants and hangs them together with the accompanying jacket.

"I apologise for any delays, it was my fault. If that will be all, you two are dismissed."

Grayson glances at the Admiral, then back at Mackenzie with a slightly suspicious look before what looks like him mentally dropping the issue. The two offer a quick salute, "Then we will take our leave sir."

With the Lieutenant stepping out first, Yeoman Mackenzie places the plastic bin along the others and makes his way towards the door.

"Before you leave Yeoman…."

Mackenzie freezes in the doorframe, muttering out a shaky, "Sir?"

"You owe me a beer sometime." William smiles, "Maybe even an entire flat of beer in fact."

The redheaded Yeoman quickly bobs his head, "Yes sir, thank you sir" as he quickly exits the building, his boots reverberating the entire way out the door.

Letting out a long sigh, William hoists the bin full of books up onto his desk and begins to sort through them. Luckily, his stubborn habit of buying mostly hardcover books had finally paid off. What little water and debris present seems to be limited to the front and back covers, which he lays out on the nearby shelf to dry. Only about ten of the thirty books inside had fallen out and luckily enough, the Yeoman didn't drop the box containing his Xbox or the more fragile documents he had brought along. Setting the bin back on the floor, a basket overflowing with paper can be seen prominently sitting beside the Admiral's laptop.

'You have to be fucking kidding me! All this paperwork from just this morning?'

Ignoring the very persuasive voice in the back of his head telling him to simply dump the papers out the window and let the storm take care of it all, William sits at his desk and clicks his pen.

'If I don't get any leftovers, heads are going to roll.'

A few moments later in the Mess Hall

Kidd stares unblinkingly at the plate sitting out in front of her, the steam wafting up from the white rice and brown sauce below. As she prods half heartedly at the plates contents with her fork, a trio of small figures clad in full damage control equipment wiggle out from under her bandanna, dropping down onto her shoulder before walking along her arm and onto the table. The fairies clamour up onto the plate, taking their turns poking at the hot sauce. One of them slips, tumbling down into the sauce. A small rope is thrown and the sailor is pulled out by his comrades amongst the chatter of incomprehensible yet unmistakably angry voices.

"It's not poison you know." Murakumo states, a pile of five empty plates to her left. "It's just curry and pretty good curry at that for an American ship."

"I guess it's alright….at least Hibiki and Akatsuki didn't make it this time." Akebono snorts, "We were supposed to have curry on Friday's though, typical Americans don't have a clue how things work."

"Watch it you twerp!" Tenryuu hollers as she loops her arms around the two Akatsuki class destroyers, pulling them in close. "My girls might have had a rocky start but they can surely cook now! I made sure they got lessons from Mamiya after the flamethrower incident…."

Hibiki shrugs, "That only happened once and it was Ikazuchi's idea in the first place."

The fairies go back for another attempt with two of them stand on the rim of the plate, tying the rope around the waist of the third fairy. As he slogs back out through the sauce which is about up to his waist, he stops at a chunk of beef. Carving off a piece with a miniature Ka-Bar knife and taking an exaggerated bite, he chitters something and raises a stubby thumb in approval to Kidd.

"Fine." The American destroyer huffs, "But if my crew all turn yellow, I'm not going to be happy!" She scoops up the trio of fairies, placing them back on her shoulder. "Good job guys, go get cleaned up."

The trio of sailors all salute before crawling up into Kidd's hair, the faint clank of a metal bulkhead distinctively heard coming from somewhere. With care as of yet unseen of the American murderball, she takes a fork full of rice, swiping it around the sauce before plopping it into her mouth. The destroyers face lights up as she begins to shovel the food into her mouth.

Kidd attempts to say something through a full mouth, only to produce a cacophony of mumbles only slightly resembling human speech.

"Please don't talk with your mouthful, it's not polite." Omaha scolds with Kidd replying "Swwworry" through another mouthful of curry, causing Omaha to simply shake her head and get back to her lunch.

Tartar and Huron slide into the open spots in the table, beside Murakumo and between Kidd and Omaha.

"Hey Huron, where's your sister?" Murakumo says through a sip of orange juice, "I've never seen you two apart so far."

"She said something about finding the Admiral and left before we made it here." Huron says through a big yawn.

Akebono laughs, "She sure likes that piece of shit huh?" An awkward silence settles over the table as the destroyer gets a glare full of daggers from Omaha and Tenryuu.

Sometime passes as the girls devour their meals, exchanging some idle banter in between the systematic food based annihilation going on in front of them. Sometime near the end of their meal, a bell rings throughout the mess hall. Adria comes out to the serving counter, pushing a cart full of tubs of various ice cream flavors.

"Dessert time everyone!" She calls out as the base personnel funnel over to get some of the sweet dairy goodness for themselves.

Kidds ears perk up as those three words sink in. She jumps up, sprinting across the hall letting out the battle cry "ICCCCCCEEEEEEEEE CCCCRRREEEEAAAAMMMMM!"

A group of five unfortunate base personnel standing in the way of the destroyer turned ice cream seeking missile tumbled like bowling pins, as their nearby comrades wisely clearing a path for the rest of the girls.

Entering through the front door, Doctor Kawabe stops to admire the sight in front of him, while he looks to have missed his lunch, this sight was almost worth it by itself. A group of dazed Ensigns being pulled to their feet by confused comrades, not knowing whether to laugh or run in the face of the newly awakened beasts that are sugar crazed destroyers. He let's out a chuckle as he walks through the carnage, picking up a poor Seamans unattended bowl of Vanilla ice cream laying on a nearby table. Slinking towards the nearest exit, he finds the path blocked by a familiar raven haired girl.

"Huron….can I help you?" He says with a confused tone, the girl now staring up at him with what must have been the deadliest puppy dog eyes ever put on a human warship hybrid.

She looks at the heaping bowl of ice cream in his right hand, "Can I please have that?"

The longer Kawabe looks into those big eyes, the more he feels his demeanor turn to mush, eventually caving into a goofy smile as he relinquishes himself to his fate.

He hands the bowl to the destroyer, who wraps her free arm around him in a bear hug, "Thank you!"

As she speeds back to her table, the warm tingly feeling in the Kawabe's heart suddenly turns ice cold when he realizes the line for ice cream has grown tenfold in the time he'd been gone, following the girls raid on the ice cream stocks. Mumbling curse words to himself, he starts the long trek to the dessert line.

'Damn it, I shouldn't have fell for that. I've done psychological profiles for hundreds of ship girls, shouldn't be getting caught up in a rookie mistake. Goddamn sparkly ship girl bullshit.'

Even over the dull roar of hundreds of base personnel conversing, what comes next is unmistakable to the experienced scientists ears.

"Omaha, Akebono took a bite out of my ice cream!"

"Pay closer attention next time then."

"Hey, where's my spoon!?"

"Take this you Jap!"

Kawabe gulps, 'Dear god no…..'

"Hey girls, no throwing food!"

"FOOOD FIGHT!"

As an entire bowl of chocolate ice cream complete with syrup and toppings is violently launched skyward, Kawabe silently prays for whatever poor bastard is on maintenance duty today as he ducks under the nearest table.

Command Center, 2:05 pm

Haida smiles happily as she makes her way up the stairs to the Admiral's office, holding an hours worth of work in her right hand. When the Admiral hadn't shown up for dinner at the mess hall, the perfect idea had dawned on the Canadian destroyer. She saw the way Tartar looked yesterday when the Admiral was talking about the secretary position, she was not going to lose this opportunity to that destroyer! Besides, a well fed superior is a happy superior!

It's not like it was too hard to sneak into the pantry anyway, Hyades and Adria were both busy serving the other girls and the base personnel. Finding the ingredients she needed was also a snap along with some prepackaged dessert too! It look longer to cook than she expected but Haida had remembered watch her own cooks prepare food, so it couldn't have turned out too badly, right?

'There will be no more rubbing your battle record into my face after this.' Haida giggles to herself, 'Once the Admiral see's I brought him dinner, he'll realize how much of a reliable go getter I am! Tartar won't be able to hang that one over my head!'

The Tribal does a little fist pump to herself as she approaches the Admiral's office door. With her free hand, she knocks on the door. A loud slam accompanied by muffled curse words can be heard on the other side of the door.

"Yeah come in!"

Stepping through the door, Haida is met with the sight of Admiral MacIntosh sitting in front of a gradually filling bookshelf, the room around him a mess of half unpacked boxes and items lying everywhere.

"Oh hey Haida, what's up?"

The Destroyer steps carefully through the clutter, "Here Admiral, I made you something for dinner!"

William pushes himself up from the floor, staring inquisitively for a second before taking the plate and accompanying glass of fizzing Coca Cola.

"Uh thanks, I never got to eat breakfast and I missed out on dinner." William says, "I appreciate the thought."

The Admiral sits back on the floor, eyeing the sandwich before sinking his teeth into it.

"I gotta hand it to you." He replies through a mouth of melted cheese and eggs. "This is pretty damn good. A toasted sandwich with ham, eggs and cheese? It's more of a breakfast thing but hey, I'm not going to complain."

"T-thank you Admiral!"

'Yes!' Her mind races, 'I'll be able to prove myself to the fleet and the Admiral!'

Downing the Coke and licking his fingers, Admiral MacIntosh stands and hefts another box onto his desk, cutting the packing tape away with a nearby pentip.

"Now if you aren't busy Haida, would you mind helping me clean this place up?"

"Huh?" Is all the destroyer can stammer before the Admiral sticks a box in her hands, "Good, can you unpack these and stack them by order of country on the shelf closest to the floor?"

Haida slumps onto the floor as she opens the box, she had to start somewhere right? Scratching the back of her head, she removes a large white binder labeled with as "United States Navy Destroyer Photos WWI." The box was deeper than she had expected, there was basically a book for every nation and era up to the Cold War! After a good deal of shuffling later, the shelf's contents are just about in their correct order. Haida reaches for the final book and slides it up onto the shelf. Just as she is about to stand back up, her gaze falls back onto the label of the book, "German Destroyer Photos WWII."

'No, I really shouldn't...'

Small hands flip open the book's cover as she removes the red binder from it's nest, revealing a hand written table of contents. The pages pass one by one as her breathing quickens, a single name ringing through her head like a church bell. Paying no attention to her shaking hands gripping the edges of the book, white as the paper of the book itself, Haida can't break her gaze from the photo in the midsection of the page.

That distinctive square shaped bridge, the single deck gun, those stubby funnels placed far apart from each other and that short hull, almost like that of a Frigate, the shape of that ship had been burned into her squadrons collective memories countless times. The caption of the photo reads, "T-24 mourned in occupied Brest, shortly after the sinking of HMCS Athabaskan, May 1944."

'Why did I leave? I c-could have done more….'

She could almost feel the sea swell beneath her as she drifted back to that night. The feeling of victory still lodged deep in their being, having proved themselves against their foes nights before, they felt invincible.

Pinging of a radar, another challenge from the darkness.

"Two objects traveling at high speed."

Plymouth answered promptly and directly, "Intercept at full speed."

The blinding light of the star shells lance through the night sky, miniature suns illuminating their enemies on a sort of silver platter. The sight of torpedo tubes leaned over the destroyers sides met the crew's eyes, causing the pair of Allied ships to turn a hard 30 degrees. Nothing but held breathes and prayers filled the minds of the men aboard as they hoped their luck would hold.

A mixture of screeching metal and the guttural spewing of seawater into the air punctuated the darkness as her sister veered off course, speed rapidly dropping as her mangled stern settled into the murky waters of the midnight Atlantic.

"I'm hit and losing power!"

Her captain looked out from Haida's open bridge, a massive plume of fire and smoke rising up from the Athabaskan stern. The sight of him standing side by side with the Athabaskan's Commanding Officer days prior lept into his mind, a feeling of helplessness draping over the bridge as he considered their options.

Help the potentially beyond repair Athabaskan, let the enemy force escape and be a sitting deck inside enemy territory? Or does he leave his fellow seamen behind on a hunt for vengeance?

The order from Command echoes again through their heads, "Intercept at full speed."

A black haze erupted from Haida's funnels as her engineers brewed up a thick blanket of smoke, laying the heavy black shield around the crippled Athabaskan before speeding forwards off into the night, swearing their return.

Her foes came back into her radar's scope.

Haida fumed with anger, the smell of cordite mixing with the salty night air of the French coast as the flash and accompanying thunder of her guns belching dirty smoke into the night. Over and over, her crew rammed 4.7 inch shells into her guns as she rained hell down upon the fleeing destroyers. Shell casings tore paint from her deck, let out hollow clangs as they went. Those adrenaline spiked feelings of victory cradling her in an embrace of self satisfaction, if only for a few moments as the wreck of a German destroyer lay on the rocks, burning profusely.

The crackle of the radio, a message delivered to the Captain.

"We're taking too much water, pumps failing, all crew standby to abandon ship."

That all encompassing sense of self loathing and regret burned harder than the oil in her engines, she had left behind a comrade, her youngest sister.

As the rudder pitched over and her engines revved from her bowels, the sense of dread and anticipation hung bleakly over her crew like a fog, for those thirty minutes never ending minutes. No radio contact, attempts raising nothing but the empty static of the Atlantic.

The smell. Seared flesh tinged with the unmistakable scent of fuel oil permeated the air as fire burned vigorously on the surface. Her stricken sister was nowhere to be found as sailors desperately swam towards their savior. The crew of Haida lept into action, throwing nets down her hull and lowering every boat they had aboard.

For next eighteen minutes she sat, oil soaked and bleeding men clamouring up her hull, lying exhausted on her decks. Clean clothes and hot drinks were dispersed among the crew as the Doctors made their rounds. Her Captain was getting jittery, uncharacteristic of his calm and collected nature. Dawn was rapidly approaching and his ship was a target sitting motionless inside enemy territory. Would the other German destroyers come hunting him in a mirrored attempt of his own?

Through the moans and cries of the sailors, a melody echoes across the ocean. A familiar song, one every sailor aboard her knew all too well. Lieutenant Commander John Stubbs had started up into song along with the other Athabaskan crew members still adrift in the wash.

"Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along
If they ask us who we are
We're the RNVR -
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along

Oh, we joined for the chance to go to sea
Yes, we joined for the chance to go to sea
But the first two years or more
We spent marching on the shore
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along"

It was then Haida heard a single voice cut through the song, "Get away Haida! Get clear!" The Commanding Officer of Athabaskan, John Stubbs, screams towards the Haida's crew. Even though Captain DeWolf must not have heard him judging by his unflinching expression, his instincts agreed it was time to leave. She could feel the knot of guilt forming in the man's stomach, where it would lay very much alive for the rest of his days.

The somber limerick didn't stop.

Oh, we joined for the payment and the fun
Yes, we joined for the payment and the fun
But of payment there is none
And the fun is yet to come
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along

Oh, we joined for the glory of it all
Yes, we joined for the glory of it all
But the good old RN
Made us change our minds again
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along

Pulling away, oil covered hands lost their grip on the nets as sailors screamed for help, meeting the gazes of Haida's sailors, who could only watch in horror as the men they had laughed, drank and lived with only hours before were left to a watery fate. As Haida's motor cutter enters the water with a splash, she begun her departure.

And when at last they sent us out to sea
Yes, when at last they sent us out to sea
There were several things we saw
That were not brought up before
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along

"Come on men!" Stubbs cries, "Keep those arms and legs moving!"

As her comrades fade off into the inky mass of the early morning sky, Haida and her crew begin the journey back across the channel, back to the Flotilla. A few nights before they had returned heroes, tonight, they return as pallbearers. Even as the sounds of song fade into the distance, Haida continues the lyrics to herself.

Man you gun, Seaman Gunner, man your gun
Man you gun, Seaman Gunner, man your gun
Load it up with shot and shell
And we'll blow the Huns to hell
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along

Now before we pull up hook and sail away
Yes, before we pull up hook and sail away
If you want some good advice
Before you join, think once or twice
Roll along, Wavy Navy, roll along

A rhythmic pulsing sound meets Haida's ears, as the crack of thunder sees her staring back down at the photo book sitting her her lap. With the rain alternating between slamming into the window and pattering down the buildings sides, a voice echoes from the other room.

"Hey Haida, how are you making out with those books?"

Haida quickly the shakes the stupidify thousand yard stare off her face and composes herself, sliding the binder into it's correct place and snapping to attention, right on time for William to walk into the room.

"Sir, all done organizing the books."

William nods, "Good work Haida, now I'd like to move onto…"

The ringing of William's desktop phone halts him mid sentence, with him walking around the desk and placing the receiver up to his ear.

"This is Admiral MacIntosh, yes? Doctor, what is it? Yes, I'm not terribly busy at the moment. Wait, take a deep breath and talk slowly, I can't understand your rambling. Kawabe? Hello? Helloooo?"

William places the receiver back down onto it's base, "Forget the mess here Haida, Kawabe just called in a fit rambling on about something happening in the Mess Hall, let's get down there ASAP."

Slipping back into his Goretex uniform covers, the water pooling on it's surface he notices falls onto the floor in a miniature rainfall. With an umbrella in his hand, the pair make their way down from the office and out onto the buildings steps, briefly standing below it's protective concrete awning.

"Damn, it's really coming down now." William laughs as he passes the umbrella to Haida, "I won't be needing this but don't blow away on me."

The two step down into the torrential down pour and the Mess Hall seemed ever farther with each step they took.

Mess Hall, 3:07 pm

The sight in the Mess hall was certainly….something alright. Met by the sweat drenched and visible pissed off pair of Adria and Hyades, William's brain took a few seconds to fully comprehend what his eyes took in. Ice cream….ice cream was dripping from almost every surface William could see. It slid down unturned tables, clung in clumps to the ceiling tiles and lay melting in lumps on the floor amidst piles of empty tubs. As the two ships loudly described the incident with some very colourful language, William just shakes his head repeatedly at the situation in from of him.

Seven destroyers sat on one of the few tables left standing, all clad in soiled clothing. The cruisers were not too far off, with Tenryuu's purple hair streaked with teal coloured dairy product.

The Admiral stands in front of the girls, the ragged group managing to throw up some lazy salutes which William is prompt to return.

Kawabe lumbers up from behind a set of broken and warped chair, steel chairs mind you, walking slowly and erratically over to the Admiral's side.

"So let me get this straight and stop me if I'm wrong. Akebono took a bite of Kidd's ice cream, causing her to get angry and throw Huron's bowl of ice cream directly into Akebono's face. A food fight broke out where the destroyers managed to commandeer and lob all 100 liters of the Mess Halls ice cream supply in every conceivable direction before Omaha and Tenryuu managed to break the fight up?"

The two Akatsuki class destroyer eyes are glued to the sticky floor of the hall, "Yes Admiral."

"Also, Kidd managed to break a Petty Officers arm and injured ten other people with her bull charge into the already formed dessert line."

"Don't forget the part where I got knocked unconscious by a flying chair." Kawabe groans, rubbing his the growing bruise on the side of his head.

Kidd looked up at the Williams form with tears in her eyes, "We didn't mean to hurt anybody Admiral!"

"That doesn't matter, you all have to remember how dangerous you can be when interacting with normal people. A fellow ship girl might be able to take a sprinting tackle from one of you however, human bones are much more brittle than whatever in the you girls have tucked away in there. You are the ships after all, you can take direct hits naval artillery and still function, normal people simply aren't like that."

William turns to the two cruisers, "I expect more from both of you in the future. When I'm not around, you are the leader figures for these girls, start taking that to heart since you will be the ones leading the unit out into the battlefield. You shouldn't have been so slow to react or inform me, what if this had been an attack?"

Omaha bows her head, "My deepest apologies Admiral, I did not think the girls would overreact in such a way to something so small."

"Whaa?" Tenryuu exclaims, "I could have seen that stuff coming from a mile away! Almost all of the destroyers have been acting like this ever since we got here. Kidd, Tartar, Murakumo and Akebono just can't get along."

"Well Tenryuu, if the issue was this serious, why didn't you bring it up to me earlier? You had ample time to do so." William lets out an exasperated grunt, "Now, nobody is getting off unpunished for this little stunt here."

The lone British destroyer crosses her arms, "I was only defending Huron after Akatsuki hit her in the stomach with an entire tub of chocolate ice cream, why am I being punished?"

"So you didn't try to deescalate the situation? All you did was add more fuel to the fire!"

William kneads his temples, "Tartar, Akebono and Murakumo are going to stay here and clean this place up, I'd advise going and finding the maintenance staff for advice. Huron, Akatsuki and Hibiki, you three are all assigned kitchen duty for the rest of the day. Go clean the dishes from Dinner, help the girls prepare the bases supper then clean the dishes from that meal. As for Kidd, I want to to go over to the Infirmary and check on the people who got hurt today, assist the staff in whatever they tell you and apologise personally to each staff member that you effected today. First though, everybody go back to their rooms and clean up before going to your punishments."

The Destroyers all look at each other before slowly shuffling off the table, making their way out the mess doors and into the rain outside.

Tenryuu and Omaha both begin to make their way out the rear exit of the of the building as William turns and smiles at them, "Where are you two headed off to so quickly?"

"Urm….going to get cleaned up too Admiral!" The Japanese ship sputters, rubbing her gloved hands together nonchalantly as Omaha quickly nods along.

"Alright, that's only fair. Just one thing, I want to see you both in my office when you are done, there is a whole load of paperwork with your names plastered all over it."

"Y-yes sir…."

As the two older girls make their leave, William is left standing in an empty hall with Haida, surrounded by sugary carnage.

'I swear, this place is getting nuttier and nuttier by the day. Was I too hard on them though? Like come on, these girls are supposed to be a military unit and I'm stuck babysitting them like children.' Pivoting on his heel and walking towards the exit, he foot catches on a stray chair leg, causing him to tumble down face first into a half melted pile of multicolored mush.

"Anyway Haida, you have the rest of the day off. Do whatever you like, since you seem to be the only one who can actually behave."

Haida fidgets awkwardly, "Sir, can I help out Tartar and Huron?"

"Well." He thinks, "I don't see why not but this might be the only free time you'll get get for the next week or so."

"Thank you sir!" She states before running off to follow the other destroyers.

Pivoting on his heel and walking towards the exit, Williams foot catches on a stray chair leg, causing him to tumble down face first into a half melted pile of multicolored mush.

Sitting up, he can do nothing but laugh at his ice cream covered uniform. 'Join the US Navy he said, get a rank jump he said, avenge your comrades he said and here I am, lying in a puddle of ice cream in the middle of a Mess Hall floor.'

He smirks, 'I really need a drink…'