A muffled roar echoed through the polished halls, reverberating on every angry note. There was a note of fury in the roar that many of the girls shivered at – they knew who it was, but at the same time they shrugged inwardly. It happened all the time.
Doors slammed open. Some, immune to this behaviour, looked at the glowering Kongou with a frank curiosity: what was it now?
Kongou stared back at the looks of the lazing girls, barely controlling her rage as she searched the room with her furious eyes.
"What is it, Kongou-san?" asked Fuso, not even looking up from her embroidery frame. There was no reply – the furious battleship had moved off to the next room.
"AOBA! SHOW YOURSELF!" screamed Kongou, as she kicked open the next door. Instead she found Ise, Hyuuga, Nagato and Mutsu sitting around a green-baize table – the soft click of bone tiles could be heard. Not this one. Before any of the battleships could even register surprise Kongou swept away from the doorway, moving on to the next room.
"What the hell was that all about?" Mutsu pondered aloud.
"The usual, probably," Ise answered as she adjusted her tiles, throwing down one. "Riichi!"
Kongou raced up the steps, her fury guiding her to every disused room, her vengeful hands scouring every nook and cranny. No sign of the offender.
"WHERE ARE YOU, AOBA!?"In her blind fury she raced unknowingly into the administrative department, a blur to the sedate workers who ambled quietly in the pristine corridors. Surprised aides scattered as the raging battleship flew through the corridors.
She kicked down another, blurred door, rushing in. She was about to call again, but upon seeing the scene before her, the anger within her died almost in an instant.
Every inch of the hall was covered in ordnance maps, little pins in red, blue and green dotted all over the surface. Before her was the largest table she had ever seen – on it was a complete map of the Pacific region, furnished with little blocks with tiny flags that littered the field. Her fury turned into awe as she gazed at her surroundings. She was so dumbstruck by the sight that she did not notice the Admiral standing at the side of the table.
The Admiral surveyed her with frank curiosity, like the countless others who Kongou had barged in on. "Kongou-san? Did you need something?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
Kongou felt her face growing hot extremely rapidly as the attention of the assistants in the room turned to her. "Err… I, um, was wondering…." Her nerve failed her as the Admiral's stern brown eyes bored into her.
"Does this, by any chance, have to do with this morning's paper?" the Admiral wryly asked, sensing her lingering anger.
Kongou was silent. The Admiral had completely read her thoughts. Her forehead flushed with embarrassment, and her conscience kept her dumb.
The Admiral was silent. After regarding her for a moment he motioned to her with a gesture – slowly, but agonizingly she took a seat next to the door.
To her relief the attention of the assistants quickly shifted back to the giant table. Some bent back over their stations beside the radios; others ran documents to the various radio operators and board plotters. Kongou recognized them as the destroyers and cruisers that she saw the least, the girls (that she had seen) that never went into battle – Nagara's brood lined one side of the giant map, tenderly shifting the pawns on the board, while the little Mutsuki sisters raced along the upper galleries, laden with stacks of documents.
She saw Oyodo sitting next to the Admiral, clipboard in arm, observing the movement of the pawns and scribbling away; various other destroyers manned the radios and receivers – Hatsushimo, Oboro, Arare, and a whole host of others, pushing pulling, racing, jabbering, ordering, and movements so fluid it appeared as if the entire room was a single machine.
Kongou observed the Admiral nodding as he surveyed the board, the strict and correct Oyodo summarizing the situation for him. Like a magician unfolding his tales his hands swept here and there, pawns moving to his will.
A high-pitched bell chimed – on this signal the paddles were raised aloft, like spears at the salute. To this forest of paddles the Admiral stood up.
"Alright, everyone, we'll take a fifteen minute break. Dismiss!" With a cacophony of sighs of relief the assistants stood and stretched, the operators and controllers chatting amicably. At last the pawns stood still, and the radios (save for one) fell silent.
Kongou continued to watch, fascinated, as some left the room in twos and threes, while others broke out bottles of water and wrapped snacks. The Admiral exchanged a few last words with Oyodo before the cruiser herself walked out of the room, concentrated on her clipboard. At last, the Admiral was alone. But she needn't have worried – the Admiral beckoned for her to come forward.
But even before she could get out of her chair a gaggle of girls – Oyodo among them – burst into the room.
"Sir! Sir!" they cried. The Admiral, startled once more, turned his attention to them. "What's the matter?" he asked.
Oyodo spoke up, breathless but excited. "Recon patrol 7B in sector 4-south has just radioed in – the Battleship Hime has been spotted and is being engaged by an unknown fleet! They say they've also identified formations of unidentified aircraft over its location! What-"
"Admiral-san!" This time Oboro called from the balcony, the lone radio operator still remaining. "Patrol flagship Sawaka is reporting in – her recon planes have identified the aircraft as possibly Messerschmitt Bf 109s! Whatever could they be?"
Me 109s? The Admiral jogged his memory, back to the early days of his career. Flashbacks came before him, and he remembered his first overseas posting – to Kiel, into the welcoming arms of the Germans. He remembered the 109s and their yellow spinners often flying overhead on routine patrols. But what were German ships doing so far away from home?
"Kongou, come over here for a moment." The lithe battleship got out of her chair and, feeling a little sheepish amidst the stares of the little group of assistants (the gaze of Oyodo particularly unsettling), walked over to him.
The Admiral smiled at her. "Kongou-san-" His voice was warm, reassuring. "Did you, by any chance, have any experiences concerning the Germans?"
"Ummm… not particularly, Admiral-sama." Kongou glanced over at the waiting gaggle, who continued to stare at her. "I don't think I've ever had contact with any modern German warship."
"Thank you, Kongou-san." The Admiral continued to smile, but as soon as Kongou stepped back his demeanor immediately changed. The benign smile turned into a grim look as he surveyed the map again. After regarding it for a moment he raised his head, towards the balconies.
"Oboro-san, advise Sakawa that we are on friendly terms with the unknown ships. Any assistance signal coming from that fleet is to be answered post-haste. If possible, escort them back to base. That is all." The tough little destroyer turned back to the radio, rapidly relaying the orders.
"Oyodo-san, get everyone back in. I want headquarters on the line just in case this escalates. Everyone, we're on red alert!" The Admiral jammed his peaked cap back on his head, his expression serious, and Kongou finally saw the last facet of her beloved Admiral – the cheerful Admiral, the cunning Admiral, the kind Admiral, and at last, the fighting Admiral.