I
The Newcomer

Communication between Raiushima and the mainland was usually handled by aircraft. Most frequent visitors were helicopters, their pad located just outside the main complex. Sometimes larger cargo was delivered by ship, as the port basin and harbour were just large enough to service a small freighter.

This time the guest came by something completely different, however.

First, the vessel appeared like a regular ship would - as a dark shape on the horizon, slowly growing in size as it approached the coast. However, the closer it got, the more obvious its peculiarities became.

Huge fans protruded from its stern, their blades cutting the air with a buzz clearly audible even from all the distance. Water beneath it did not bank up against its bow; instead, the ship seemed to skim over the waves, like a ghost. Yet that ghost was clearly made of steel, and as material as the branch Aoba propped herself against. Binoculars to her eyes, she observed the approaching machine, slowly realizing what it was.

"My gosh! Gassa, it's a hovercraft! It's a hovercraft! Gassa, look-"

Only a snore replied from a nearby branch.

"Gassa!" she hissed, poking her sister's ribs. Kinugasa woke up with a jolt, almost falling off the narrow branch she used as a makeshift bed.

"Did you lose your mind?!" she yelled "I'd have broken my neck! Or worse!"

"Oh c'mon you, don't cry" Aoba hushed her and pointed to the approaching vessel. "The admiral's guests are rolling in with style!"

To her irritation, Kinugasa was indifference incarnate. The only reason she didn't berate her ditzy sister was because of yet another revelation that suddenly occurred to her;
the hovercraft was not heading for the harbour. Which meant...

"Daaaaamn!" she screamed in desperation, grabbing her camera and quickly descending down the trunk, leaving confused Kinugasa behind.

She sped towards the beach, hoping to find a good observation spot before the visitors made landfall. That tree would have been so perfect, if only those guys had decided to act like every decent guest and came by boat...

Almost tripping over her own legs, she made a shortcut through a lawn and jumped onto the embankment running along the coast. A few hundred metres further on, she ran down the steps, jumping off the last few to land on soft, white sand. Now, to find a spot with good field of view-

"Well, if it isn't Aoba-chan..."

She froze. In her rush, she didn't think about checking if the admiral wasn't already on his way.

"What are you doing here?" Okada came round to face her. Another person was following him, still out of Aoba's field of view - but her soft steps were clearly audible against the concrete blocks.

"I-"

She tried to think of some excuse that would explain both her presence there and the camera in her hands at the same time. Technically, nothing prohibited her from being on the beach, taking photos. She had no exercises scheduled, the place was fully accessible to the base's personnel and so on. But add to that those incoming visitors - and you got a completely different case. Not to mention she only learnt about this supposedly not-really-public arrival by overhearing admiral's conversation in the HQ (but hey, doors were open and they were talking in normal voices - it's not that she was eavesdropping or anything!)...

"I will see her back to base" she heard Kaga's voice. "If she is not authorized to meet with admiral Orlov, she should not be here"

"Hm..." Okada stroke his short beard, clearly examining the camera in Aoba's hands. Her heart raced faster and faster. "I'd say she is authorized from now on. It'd be good to document the landing and so on. I didn't think of that before, another shame on me..." he ended with a sigh.

"Understood"

A small grenade exploded in Aoba's chest. So she's not going to be dismissed or punished for trespassing? Really?!

"Pick your spot and good luck" the admiral nodded at her. "But for the record, whatever sources you used to get this information, please refrain from using them in the future. Instead, just come and ask. We need reporters, not spies"

Last comment was lashed out surprisingly harshly, making Aoba back down a step. But Okada did not continue; he and Kaga set off towards the shore, stopping halfway through the beach and threating the cruiser as if she didn't exist anymore.

Hands trembling - both from shock and excitement - Aoba kicked off her shoes and raced for the breakwater. She quickly climbed the construction, taking the first suitable spot she found. She made it just in time - the hovercraft was approaching the shore, its massive hulk even more impressive from up close.

Her shutter clicked furiously. Wide perspective, close up on Okada's tense face, zoom in on the hovercraft's tricolour banner, quick snap of the golden, two-headed eagle adorning the side. There was always a detail that attracted her attention, always something worth preserving for the others to see.

The behemoth rolled over the dry land and slowly settled, its air cushion dispersing as the engine slowed down. The ramp in the front lowered, steel plate hitting sand with a hollow thump. For a second, Aoba thought of a beached Abyssal destroyer, gasping for breath. A while later, completing the visage of a stray sea monster, three people disembarked from the hovercraft's gaping maw.

First came two girls; both of similar height and build, they could well be twins. One of them - standing closer to Aoba's spot - wore her hair loose, a blonde cascade reaching all the way to waist, fluttering in the chilly, salty wind. The other had her hair shorter and tied up in a tight braid. Both wore uniform trench coats, their olive colour contrasting with the seaside palette around them. Their high boots sank in sand, black leather against its white dust.

Then came their commander. Clad in a dark blue uniform, a bit shorter and stockier than Okada, the other admiral went straight towards Raiushima's commander, locking him in a powerful embrace. Aoba's shutter kept clicking throughout the ordeal, trying to capture its every moment. A silent voice in the back of her head gleed in delight, happy that her digital camera needed no film to operate. Sadly, the wind drowned out the admirals' conversation, with only scraps of words reaching the reporter's ears. What if something they said would make for a perfect headline?

The long-haired blonde noticed Aoba when she shuffled to adjust her position, knocking a few smaller stones in the process. Following the sound's source, her gaze fell on the reporter shipgirl, cold and hostile. She even made a few rushed steps towards the breakwater, reaching for something at her belt - but was stopped in her tracks by the Russian admiral's gesture. She returned to her place - but kept her eyes on Aoba. She could have sworn the air between them got perceptibly colder.

The Lounge, as it was usually called, was in fact a rather discreet and quiet corner of Mamiya's inn, specially picked as a spot for people looking for a place to have a private conversation. More spacious than other sections of the tavern and with comfy armchairs instead of simple wooden chairs and stools, it was also a place to celebrate birthdays or other special occasions.

When Aoba first came to Mamiya's two weeks earlier (and only a few days after her arrival at the base), she did not suspect she'd have a chance to sit there so soon. But that particular day was so unusual that she was not even surprised when Okada invited her to accompany them throughout the visit. Camera switched off and a noting pad in her hand, she happily obliged.

She could barely hold off the barrage of questions that swarmed in her mind. The Russian admiral - Aleksandr Yakovlevich Orlov, as he introduced himself - was surprisingly decent with Japanese, even if his accent was heavy and rough. His jovial demeanour was in stark contrast with the more reserved Okada. His detailed answers had their drawback, though; she barely managed to ask the very first few questions from the long, evergrowing mental list she had before they arrived at Mamiya's doorstep. Not to mention she didn't even get a chance to ask the accompanying twins about anything.

Although, taking into account the long-haired one kept her hostile eye on Aoba all that time, she was kinda unsure if getting engaged in any form of conversation with that particular shipgirl was worth the risk. Her sister, neutral to the point of complete indifference, was also a wild card.

Even with those shortcomings, her mind's eye already saw a beautiful article - or maybe a series! - for the fleet's bulletin.

She barely even noticed as they passed the crowded part of Mamiya's inn, straight to the Lounge. They ordered food and took their seats. Silence fell for the first time since they had left the beach. But it lasted just for a few whiles - roughly long enough for Mamiya to bring in the wine - as Aoba quickly grabbed her pen and turned back to Orlov;

"Regarding-"

"Enough" Okada interrupted her abrutply. "Orlov-san is on an official visit here, and with all due respect, it takes priority over the fleet's newspaper. Feel free to take down any notes and make pictures to your heart's content, but from now on, I will be the one to ask questions"

"Y-es sir..." Aoba muttered. She heard stories about Okada normally being a relaxed and friendly officer - but she found them hard to believe. Even when they came from someone as brutally honest, straightforward and alien to confabulation as Furutaka. They just didn't match with reality of the grumpy, moody officer their commander seemed to be.

She started scribbling in her notepad as soon as Okada leaned forward and spoke to the Russian admiral:

"So, what exactly brings you here, Alexandr? Apart from the official bullshit given in the announcement I got from Fleet Command. If you were to talk about the Abyssals, we'd be having a conference via Fleetcord"

"And this is why the Americans and British dislike you so much" Orlov chuckled. "Straight to the point and hates small talk. With a burning passion. I can totally understand why this graceful maiden is your secretary here" he rose a toast to Kaga before downing the rest of plum wine from the glass.

"Good thing I hate this crap too" he continued. "No, Oka, I am indeed here to discuss the fleets' coordination against the Abyssals. There has been some action in the north recently - and we are concerned about potential implications to our security"

"First of all, Kaga is my flagship and second-in-command, not a secretary" Okada leaned forward and tented his fingers, thumbs supporting the chin. "And second, I know about the Aleutan raid. Admiral Dackto..."

"Dackto is a typical Amerikanyets!*" Orlov threw his hands in the air. "I've got enough of his 'Alaskan bridgehead' babble. And don't even get started on carriers, with all due respect to your beautiful second-in-command..."

Aoba quickly lost interest in (and track of) all the political and strategical jargon the admirals exchanged. As entertaining as it was to see Okada and Orlov's personalities clash, she completely understood Kaga-san, who was just sitting idly, half listening and half submerged in her inner universe of thoughts. The long-haired blonde's stern gaze made it awkward to look towards the Russian ships, although burning curiosity slowly leaned her towards risking an attempt to talk to the other girl. Suddenly, her attention was attracted back to Orlov by a single sentence:

"...in private. Here, however, I would like to propose a small deal with you. And this might be that 'real' part you asked about a while ago"

"And what would that be?"

"I would like to facilitate coordination between our fleets, with future operations in mind. Especially in light of all those recent developments. This charming beauty here - he gestured at the braided girl - is Kirov"

The girl stood up, bowed and spoke in a perfectly fine, even if heavily accented, Japanese:

"Pleased to meet you, admiral Okada Arashi, aircraft carrier Kaga, cruiser Aoba"

Aoba felt her jaw drop. That Kirov girl already knew her, a complete newcomer and rookie on Raiushima?!

"We organized crash language and history courses back in Vladivostok" explained Orlov. "But I'd like to understanding to be deeper, so I would like Kirov to stay at Raiushima for some time. I'd leave more ships, but we are thinly stretched and can't spare many guns. In return, should our experiment produce encouraging results, I'd like to invite a few ships of yours to Vladivostok. What do you think?"

Okada pondered on the proposition as the others waited. The long haired Russian finally tore her lethal glare off from Aoba, changing her target to the Japanese admiral. It seemed like she was ready to literally rip him apart, should his answer fail to satisfy her expectations - whatever they were.

"I see no problem with either part" the answer finally came.

"Khorosho! Otlichno!**" Orlov clapped, his booming voice rolling across Mamiya's inn like a thunder, attracting the shipgirls' curious gazes. A silent yelp of surprise came from the section just next to the lounge, and four heads of the Sixth Destroyer Division popped up from behind the seats, as curious as startled.

Orlov poured himself, Okada and the other co-banqueters another round of wine and rose his glass in a joyful toast.

"Za vashe zdorovye!***"

* - (rus.) American
** - (rus.) Good! Splendid!
*** - (rus.) Cheers! (lit. For your well-being!)