War Room, June 23, 2018

Smith was tired, exhausted might be the better term for it. After the conference with the other ship girl commanders, he had started to work on a plan for future combat operations. A long table had been appropriated from somewhere, and had been pulled into the room to serve as an impromptu map table, and a large map of the Pacific Ocean had been rolled out on top of it. The map had been crisscrossed with lines indicating potential convoy routes. Smith had called in Miyata, Zimmerman, Boggs, and Enterprise, and they had spent the entire night throwing ideas off each other. Now twelve hours later, they had come up with several good ideas. Sometime during the night Langley had found them in the room and had kept a never ending stream of fresh coffee flowing into the room. Smith had no idea how many cups he had consumed, but he knew that it was probably an obscenely large number.

Most of the discussion had been about how they were going to organize the ship girls into escort fleets that could provide adequate protection. They had finally drawn up a finalized table of organization for how they were going to split up forces into numbered fleets. Smith also had a list of girls that he thought would be the best choices for promotion to officer rank. They would serve as the leaders for the escort fleets, and the commanders for DesRons, CruDivs, and BatDivs.

The discussion had begun to taper off around 0300. They had come up with a plan to send a reconnaissance mission through the Abyssal fleet, but that was about it. Smith dismissed everyone to go back to quarters and get some sleep. He was a bit shocked to look at his watch and discover that it was 0430 in the morning, then he remembered that he had promised Johnston that he would meet her to exercise at 0500. He had just enough time to shed his soiled uniform and grab a t-shirt and shorts before getting out to the parade field. Unbeknownst to him, he had grabbed the old blue shirt with the words, "USS Evans DDG-125," printed across the front in gold text. He spotted Johnston standing next to the bare flagpole. "You're early," he called.

"You're late," she quipped back.

"If you must know," Smith explained, "I was in a planning session all night with the senior staff."

"Anything I oughta know about?" she asked.

"Not really," Smith replied, "Working on convoy routes, and that's all you're gonna get out of me. So I was thinking we start with a run around the island. 'Bout three miles."

"Sure," Johnston replied. Smith took of at a slow jog, making it easy for Johnston to keep up.

"So you really only came through a few days ago?" he asked as they went.

"Yep," she replied dryly.

"I know this probably sounds clichéd and old by now, but what do you think about all of this?" Smith asked.

"The new body is okay I guess, it's certainly different," she said after a moment's thought, "But I just can't stand the hero worship."

"What do you mean by hero worship?" Smith asked, "You mean about Samar?"

"Yeah, it seems that everyone I talk to, ship girls and regulars alike, seem to only ask me about that battle," Johnston replied.

"I take it that you don't like that?" Smith asked.

"It's just..." Johnston began, struggling for the right word, "It's just that sometimes I'd like to talk about something other than old battles."

"I think I know how you feel Johnston," Smith announced, "Back when this war was fresh, I was one of the few people to actually survive an attack by the Abyssals. I had people asking me left and right what it was like. They kept reminding me of something that I'd rather forget, but after awhile, the questions stopped coming and I was able to move on." Johnston was silent for several, long seconds before Smith asked, "You wanna talk about it at all?" She gave him a disbelieving look and he added, "I mean about how you felt, not about the battle itself. I know the history Johnston, I want to hear your story."

She stared straight ahead and replied, her voice taking on a distant tone, "I remember my crew listening over the radio as Jesse Oldendorf's battlewagons pounded the Japs to hell. The crew complained that we wouldn't be able to get into the fight. Then we saw the Jap battlegroup over the horizon on the radar set."

"When you led the charge, were you scared?" Smith asked suddenly.

"Shitless sir, I was scared shitless. Well the equivalent for a ship I guess, but not for myself. I knew I wasn't getting out of that fight afloat, and I was resigned to that. I was scared for my crew. All I could think was, 'Please let these boys get home safely,' and as I went down I was glad that at least some of them were able to get away," Johnston replied.

"So what's the problem, why do you hate telling that story so much?" Smith asked.

"It's just that everyone hears my history and thinks I'm some crazy hero who will charge the enemy and win. That wasn't me, that was Captain Evans. I would have been way to scared to try a stunt like that," she replied a look a sadness in her eyes at the mention of Captain Evans, "And it doesn't help that when Sammy came back, that's exactly how she acts."

"I see what you mean," Smith admitted, "Well I can assure you Johnston, I'll never take you for anything more than you are."

"Thank you sir," she replied with a smile, "Now may I ask you something sir?"

"Shoot," he said.

"What is the Evans?" Johnston asked, then pointed at Smith's shirt, "On your shirt I mean?" Smith looked down to see that he had grabbed his old ship's shirt by mistake.

"Oh that," he replied, "The Evans was my old ship. She was an Arleigh Burke class destroyer." He pointed to where the Halsey was still anchored in the lagoon, "Kind of like that one, but a bit bigger and a bit newer."

"Evans, as in..." Johnston trailed off.

"Named for Captain Ernest Evans?" Smith continued, "Lemme just say that our ship's motto was, 'A fighting ship.' That battle has captured the imaginations of the current generation. It's hard to bring up WWII without talking about those brave men in their little tin cans. Hell, the Japanese still claim that they fought a force made up of cruisers and destroyers, rather than destroyers and destroyer escorts. But don't worry about it, if you want the chance to prove yourself, I'll give it to you. Which brings me to another point, your old unit isn't here, is it?"

"Nope, just me," she replied, "None of the other girls from DesRon 47 are here yet."

"Here's what I was thinking," Smith began, "I need someone to fill in for Fletcher in DesRon 21 while she's still on convalescent leave, and they'll need a fifth after she comes back. So how about it?"

"Go to DesRon 21 sir?" Johnston asked incredulously, "But they're the top unit."

"I know," Smith said, "And they're going to get the first combat assignment, to Japan. Speaking of which, will I have any trouble with you and the Japanese?"

"War's over skipper," Johnston said, "You won't get any beef from me." Smith was about to reply when Johnston suddenly stopped running.

"What's wrong?" Smith asked. Johnston didn't say a word, but raised her hand to point at something behind Smith. He turned to see two figures running down the path. He instantly recognized the figure closest to him as the battleship Arkansas.

Arkansas was shouting, "You keep away from me with that thing, I tell ya I don't want it."

"But Arkansas, you have to start every morning with a nice cup of tea," yelled back Kongou, who was chasing after Arkansas. Smith could see that she was holding a metal teapot in her hands.

"That girl is the battlecruiser Kongou?" Johnston asked, a note of disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah, she is," Smith replied, "Doesn't really fit the hype does she?"

"Not really," Johnston replied.

"Well it's about time to stop for the day," Smith said, looking at his watch.

"If you're done with me sir, I think I'll go get some chow," Johnston said, then started to walk off.

Smith grabbed her shoulder and announced, "Hold on just a sec, you're coming with me to the officer's wardroom, and I'm buying."

"Okay skip, lead the way," Johnston said as they walked off.


Eastern Island, 0800

It had taken him several hours, but Smith had finally decided which girls he was going to give the recon mission to. With their unique stealth capabilities, the submarines were the logical choice for the dangerous mission. There was only one problem with assigning the subs the mission. With their, unique capabilities, the subs tended to have unique personalities. In order to lessen the chances of problems between them and the rest of the base staff, Smith had basically given them all of Eastern Island to call their own.

Midway Atoll was just that, an atoll. It consisted of two main islands and dozens of smaller ones forming a ring around the lagoon. Of the main islands, the one where the main base was located on is called Sand Island. There is another large island to the east called, surprisingly, Eastern Island. Eastern was pretty much abandoned when the Navy retook possession of Midway Atoll, all that was there was an old auxiliary airstrip. It was the perfect place to give to the submarines, abandoned and far enough from the main base that they couldn't cause too much trouble. To get over to the island, Smith had to catch a ride in a boat. He was currently motoring across the channel in one of the base's two rigid hulled inflatable boats. Essentially a boat with a steel hull and rubber tubes as gunwales, the RHIB was capable of doing above thirty knots on any sea, and it made a perfect small boat for motoring around the lagoon.

He pulled the RHIB up to the concrete pier jutting out into the lagoon, and tied off the boat. The first thing he noticed was the plywood sign hanging from a pole at the end of the pier. It read, "Submarine Island," in large, hand-painted letters, and below that was scrawled, "All destroyers KEEP OFF! This means YOU!." Smith briefly wondered what that was about as he walked up to where several buildings had been constructed in a rough semi-circle. Two of the buildings were obviously storage shacks of some kind, and were not labeled at all. There were two, larger buildings that looked like barracks of some sort. The most striking feature about them, was that they were raised off the ground on stilts, like something stolen from a beachfront resort. Hanging from the front porch of the largest one was another hand-painted sign, this one read, "Silent Service Winter Residence."

Smith spent several minutes looking around the little compound for any signs of life. There didn't seem to be anyone around here. He was about to announce his presence, when he caught sight of an old-fashioned, canvas hammock strung between two of the stilts of the barracks, and, judging by how low it was sagging to the ground, it was occupied. He walked up to it and said in a loud voice, "Excuse me." The girl inside bolted upright and looked around for the source of the voice. When she caught sight of Smith, she tried to stand up in the hammock, but ended up flipping the thing over, causing her to fall flat on her face.

As she was standing up and dusting herself off, Smith recognized her as the submarine Tang. She quickly dusted off her khaki uniform, and then reached down to pick up a khaki colored combo cover from where it had fallen out of the hammock. She flicked the dust out of it, and placed it over her fiery red hair. After this was done, she turned to face the barracks. "Skip..," she yelled, voice cracking, but cleared her throat and continued, "Skipper, the captain's here."

Smith looked up at the building when he heard angry footsteps clomp out onto the porch. A second girl appeared glaring down at where Tang and Smith were standing. Smith recognized her as Wahoo, the de-facto commander of all subs in Midway. She looked at a watch and announced, "Tang, what's the big idea of waking me up at 8'o'clock. I told you, never ever wake me up before 10'o'clock. Now why don't you go back to sleep, and let me get a few more hours of shut eye."

Tang stood dumbfounded for a second, before replying, "But-but skipper, the captain is here."

Smith took a step backwards into Wahoo's line of sight and said, "Mind telling me why you weren't up at reveille Wahoo?"

Wahoo took on a shocked expression and said, "Well sir, we didn't have anything to do today, so I told the girls to get a few extra hours of sack time." She looked around the compound for a second before asking Tang, "Speaking of which, where are the girls Tang?"

"Oh, they're over mainside stealing supplies," Tang shot a look over to Smith and hastily added, "I mean scrounging... uh, requisitioning supplies." She then said quickly, "Not that they would try to steal anything captain. No sir, those girls are the perfect examples of American citizens. They wouldn't possibly..."

Wahoo cut her off, "Tang."

"Yea skipper," Tang said looking up at Wahoo.

"Shut up," Wahoo said curtly.

"Yes skipper," Tang acknowledged, closing her mouth.

"Well captain, what can I do you for?" Wahoo asked, turning to Smith, "And come up, come up. No sense standing in the sun down there." Smith nodded and climbed up the flight of stairs leading up to the building's porch. He looked over at Wahoo to see that she was wearing a set of striped pajamas, furthering the impression that she had just gotten out of bed. Smith walked into the barracks and looked around. The building seemed to be made up of a single room, and it looked to be a living/dining room. A large dining table with several chairs pushed up to it was in the center of the room, and a kitchenette with a long counter and several cooking appliances was in one corner. He could see that in the opposite corner was a cot with a privacy curtain halfway drawn around it, probably where Wahoo billeted for the night.

Wahoo ran over to the counter and pulled out three coffee mugs. "Have a seat captain, we can talk over a strong cup of coffee," she said as she poured the contents of a coffee pitcher into the mugs, and then slid one over to where Smith had taken a seat.

"I've got a mission for you and your girls," Smith began, and took a sip from the mug, "That's not bad."

"What kind of mission?" Tang asked, taking a sip of her own coffee before coughing loudly. "That's pretty strong," she wheezed.

Wahoo waved Tang off, then repeated Tang's question, "What type of mission captain?"

"We want to run a reconnaissance mission. Send a group of girls through the Abyssal lines in order to first, make sure it can be done, and second, get a better picture of what we're up against," Smith explained.

"And you want my girls to run this mission?" Wahoo asked, "Any particular target in mind, or is this a general recon?" Smith pulled a small map out of his pocket and unfolded it on the table. He pointed to a black line traced across the map.

"This is the route you're gonna take, from here to your old stomping grounds in Australia," Smith explained.

"Reason why the destination is Australia?" Wahoo asked her face taking on a thoughtful expression.

"We wanna start running convoy routes from the west coast to Asia and Australia. You would be running one of these routes to get a better idea of what the merchantmen would have to deal with," Smith explained, "Plus you get to show the flag for our allies."

"So why Australia and not Japan?" Wahoo asked, tapping her finger on the island in question.

"Let's just say that you subs did such a good job in the old war, that there are several Japanese ship girls with nightmares about marauding US submarines," Smith announced.

"When do we leave?" asked Tang.

"As soon as possible," Smith replied, "If you can get your girls ready in time I would like it if you could leave later today."

"They should be here in a bit," Wahoo said, "I'll give em the brief when they get back." Then she thought of something else and asked, "Are we taking full war loads on this mission?"

"You will have magazines full of torpedoes when you leave this island, but remember, this is a recon mission, not a war patrol. If you find a good target, by all means, stick some fish into it, but you are not to go tear-assing off after targets," Smith said, "Got me."

"Loud and clear captain, loud and clear," Wahoo replied.

"Well, I think I'm done here," Smith said, standing up, "I think I'll take my leave..." He trailed off as he heard the sound of footsteps coming from outside.

Wahoo heard it too, because she quickly said, "Well we are going to be very busy around here for the next few hours captain, why don't I have Tang escort you back mainside."

"Oh no," Smith replied, "I want to see your girls for myself."

"That's not necessary sir, I'm sure you could read all about them in the personnel records if you wanted to," Wahoo continued.

"Don't tell them I'm here, I wanna see this for myself," Smith said as he ducked behind the curtain in the corner. He watched as four girls walked into the room, each one of them carrying a large, cardboard box.

The first girl to walk in raised her box and said, "He skipper, look what we found." She was a short, thin girl with curly blonde hair, and she was wearing a set of utility coveralls, a white dixie cup hat perched on her head.

Wahoo gave the girl an exasperated look and said, "What did you do this time Harder, steal a jeep and chop it up into box sized pieces?"

The girl, obviously the former USS Harder, gave Wahoo a hurt look and said, "Come on skipper, that's a bit much, even for me." Harder sat the box on the ground and flipped open the top. She pulled out an object and tossed it to Wahoo, "Voila, I present one genuine American, Meal-Ready-to-Eat, or MRE for short."

"What is this," Wahoo said, turning over the package in her hand.

"This is what they used to replace the old K-rations," Harder cast a quick glance around the room, then said, "And compared to K-rations, these actually taste like food."

"What would you know about how K-rations taste," one of the other girls remarked.

"More than you Sealion," Harder said to the other girl, "I actually found a crate of the things when we moved in. Vile, absolutely horrible."

"And how exactly did you get these MREs Harder?" Wahoo asked, tossing the MRE packet onto the counter.

"Well skipper, we went down to the supply yard in order to see what we could find, and there were two pallets filled with these boxes," Harder said triumphantly.

"So you filled out a requisition form and went through the proper channels?" Tang said throwing a quick glance to where Smith was hidden, "Right?"

"Naw, that would have taken weeks. I sent Sealion here up to the front door of the warehouse, and the marine guards waved her through without challenge," Harder said, slapping Sealion on the back. Smith chose this moment to make his presence known by stepping out from behind the curtain.

"Morning sailor, what you got there?" he said to Harder, nonchalantly.

"C-c-captian, what are you doing here?" Harder stammered.

"For future reference, I don't mind giving you supplies, but we need the requisition slips on file to know what is in our warehouse," Smith announced, "So just make sure I have a filled out requisition for everything you need next time. Preferably before you take the supplies."

"Don't worry about that captain, I'll make sure we file the paperwork," Wahoo said, "Bye now, We'll talk to you later."

"Just a second," Smith said, ignoring Wahoo's insistance for a second, "I don't think I've been introduced to everyone."

"Well you see sir, this is Harder, and that's Sealion," Tang supplied pointing to each girl in turn, "And the two in the back are Darter and Dace."

"Now that the meet and greet is over, we really need to get ready captain, big mission ahead and all that," Wahoo said, pushing Smith towards the door, "And we really wouldn't want to keep you from more important duties."

"Well if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Smith said, then left the building.

Pausing on the porch just long enough to hear Wahoo yell, "You stupid eight-balls. STEALING SUPPLIES, what's next gambling rackets, KIDNAPPING. And not only did you admit the crime IN FRONT OF THE CAPTAIN, you told that one of you lot walked past a marine guard. The only reason you got away with it THIS TIME, is that the captain is a nice guy. But if I EVER catch you micks pulling something like this AGAIN, I will string you up from a yardarm so fast it'll take your skivvies two weeks to catch up, SABE?"

Smith heard a muffled chorus of, "Yes skipper." as he walked down the stairs. He made a quick, mental note to add Wahoo to his list of girls deserving of a commission.


Cruiser Barracks

Compared to the destroyer barracks and submarine island, the cruiser barracks was peaceful and quiet. Smith almost thought that there was no one here, but then he heard a shout coming from a room down the hall. He had come straight to the cruiser barracks after dealing with the submarines in order to have a talk with the cruiser girls, and get a feel as to how their organizational structure was starting to shape up. He had been somewhat neglecting the cruisers as of late, giving the destroyers and the carriers more attention that he had given to the ships that had, at one time, been the backbone of the Pacific fleet. With their long ranges, heavy guns, and good anti-aircraft suites, the cruisers were some of the best ships to give escort missions to. His task here today was to figure out which girls would be filling out the roster for Cruiser Division(CruDiv) 1, and who would be its commanding officer.

He wandered down the hall towards the sound of the voices. He looked into what had to be the common room of the barracks to see four girls crowded around a large television screen. Upon second glance, Smith saw that the television had been hooked up to a computer, and was displaying a video game. In the center of the screen, a ship was slowly turning to port. Smith didn't know the exact class of the ship, but he knew that it was a US pre-war treaty cruiser. Its distinctive double-triple turrets gave that away. One of the girls spoke up, giving a message of encouragement to the girl sitting behind the keyboard, "Come on P-cola, you can do it. Just one more ship."

"I know, I know. I'm working on it," replied the girl playing the game. She shifted what appeared to be a targeting reticule with her mouse until it lined up with the bow of another ship, a ship that had a red icon floating above it. The girl clicked the mouse, and the ship on screen fired several orange tracers. Then flew in a short arc and impacted with the other ship, causing it to burst into flames and explode.

The four girls in the room let out a cheer of success as the screen grayed out and replaced by a screen that simply read, "Victory."

"That got real tense at the end Pensacola, but you pulled it through, good job," one of the girls said as she slapped Pensacola on the back. Now that they were done with whatever that had been, Smith gave a little cough in order to get everyone's attention quickly.

One of them looked over at him, recognized who it was, and called, "Ten-hut."

Smith had to reply, "As you were," as they all tried to stand up.

"What brings you around here captain?" someone asked.

"First off, can I get a roll call? I don't know everyone by sight yet," Smith asked.

The girl who stood up first was about a head shorter than Smith hat around 5' 6" and had a bulky frame. She had long jet black hair worn loose, and was wearing a set of camouflage utilities with an interesting gray and black stripe pattern, almost like old Measure 32 camouflage. She introduced herself, "Heavy cruiser Salt Lake City CA-25 reporting sir."

The girl who had been playing the game stood up next to Salt Lake, and Smith knew instantly that she was her sister. She was the same height, but had a little lighter build. She had the same jet black hair, but wore hers shoulder length. Her utilities looked similar to Salt Lake's, but had a pattern of dark and light gray with no black. "Cruiser Pensacola," she said, "Lead of my class, and hull number CA-24."

The third girl was a bit taller than the Pensacola sisters, at around 5' 10" tall, with a trim frame. Her blond hair was tied in a single ponytail that ran down to her mid back. She was wearing a set of standard navy blue utility coveralls. "USS Northampton CA-26 and lead ship of the Northampton class of heavy cruisers."

Finally the last girl stood up. The first thing that grabbed Smith's attention with her was the fact that she was much shorter than the rest of the cruisers. With a height of close to 5' even, she was only marginally taller than the destroyers, and her small, lithe frame didn't lend anything to her physical presence. Her hair was short and bright red, and she had a pair of aviator style sunglasses perched on her nose. The uniform she had was also distinctive, similar to Pensacola's, it had a more jagged pattern to it, almost like the Measure 12(Modified) fatigues that O'Bannon had ordered for the destroyers of DesRon 21. When she realized that she was the last one in the room to sound off, she said, "Light Cruiser USS Atlanta, CL-51, you just leave all air defense to me."

Smith took one more look over the four cruisers lined up in front of him, then asked, "So what was the game?"

They stood, completely stunned at his question for several seconds before Pensacola answered, "Just something we found online. It's a competitive ship simulation game."

"And one of the playable ships is the Pensacola class of cruiser," Salt Lake added.

"So we thought it would be fun to take 'er out for a spin, so to say," Atlanta continued.

Smith nodded wordlessly at the explanation, then asked, "So, how did you do?" This question left the cruisers just as speechless as the first one.

Pensacola replied again, "We were doing pretty well. If you saw that was the fifth game in a row that we've won."

"So why was Pensacola playing?" Smith asked next.

"It's an account based game," Northampton explained, "We all have accounts made, and it was Pensacola's turn."

Smith decided that it was time to change the subject, "So is this all of the cruisers, or are there a few more of you?"

Salt Lake answered this one, "Sir, the Houston is also here on base, but she's out chasing destroyers."

Smith didn't think he heard that one right, "Chasing destroyers," he parroted.

"She considers herself to be the best destroyer wrangler on the base," Atlanta explained, "Carries around a lasso and a leg iron at all times, strange one that girl."

"I bet," Smith muttered, then spoke up, "I bet your wondering why I'm here." He received four affirmative nods, "Well the main reason is organization."

"Organization sir?" asked Northampton.

"As I am well aware that scuttlebutt travels much faster than official announcements, I'm sure you are all aware of the fact that we will be starting convoy escort missions sometime next month. I need a force of cruisers to assign to the first escort fleet, and, seeing as how the assignment of cruisers to official units was always a bit, informal, We've have decided to make a completely new cruiser division. To be called, surprisingly, CruDiv 1."

"So who's going into this unit?" Salt Lake asked, stealing a quick glance at her sister.

"Seeing the lineup here, I'd say that the four of you would make the perfect choice for the nucleus of CruDiv 1," Smith said, causing the four cruisers to relax visibly, "Now the only task is to pick a leader. Any suggestions?"

The four of them glanced at each other and exchanged a silent conversation, before Salt Lake replied, "I think that I'll step up to the plate for this one captain. I have the most combat experience of the four of us, and I think that I could do the best job."

Smith nodded, "Okay then, congratulations Petty Officer 1st Salt Lake. You are now the CO of CruDiv 1. I will be contacting the four of you later about missions, so be ready."

Salt Lake looked completely stupefied at the sudden advancement, so Pensacola spoke up, "We will be sir, I'll make sure of it."

"Well them, have fun with your game," Smith said as he walked out of the barracks and made his way back towards his office. Upon entering the room, he found Master Chief Boggs sitting in his chair, looking smug.

"What can I help the skipper with today," Boggs said, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

"I've got this damn pain in my left leg, I think it's a remnant of the piece of shrapnel still stuck there. Would you be kind enough to massage it for me?" Smith asked, completely seriously.

"Point taken," Boggs said, quickly jumping out of the captain's chair.

Smith took his seat, then said, "I'm actually glad you came by Chief, I was going to go looking for you myself in a minute. I was thinking about that dry run mission we spit-balled earlier today. I think I know how we can run it."

"You mean the recon run to Australia?" Boggs asked.

"No I mean the idea to send a ship through to Japan with a full up escort fleet in tow. I have the perfect ship for the job," Smith replied, "And her skipper owes me a couple of favors."

"Which one is that?" Boggs asked.

"The one sitting in our lagoon," Smith replied, "I'm going to recommend that the USS Halsey take on full bunkers of fuel from our dump and make best possible speed for Fleet Activities Yokosuka, with an appropriate fleet of USN shipgirls to provide escort."

"Sir, why the Halsey?" Boggs asked.

"Main reason chief, they knew what they signed up for. I don't want to risk a civilian ship for the first transit, and the Halsey's already seen combat in this war. Plus if it gets her out of our lagoon, then good for us. Don't need anymore crap from the brass hats upon high in the Navy department."

"You know who you're gonna assign to the escorts?" Boggs asked.

"So far? DesRon 21 as the main girls with Dakota and Enterprise as command. I was also thinking of sending some of the cruisers along to get experience. We just got CruDiv 1 operational, so they're ready to deploy," Smith replied. The conversation was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. "Come in," Smith said out of reflex.

Johnston walked up to Smith's desk and laid down a manilla envelope, explaining, "I was told to give this to you sir. Latest traffic from the commo shack."

"Thank you Johnston, is that all," Smith said as he picked up the envelope.

"That's all skipper, by your leave?" Johnston said, asking for Smith's permission to leave the room. He replied with a wave of his hand, and Johnston left.

"That was the USS Johnston?" Boggs asked, a note of awe in his voice.

Smith was so surprised by the unexpected display of emotion by the chief, that he stopped opening the envelope to ask, "What do you mean Chief?"

"That's the destroyer who charged all them Jap battlewagons back in WWII?" Boggs clarified.

"She is, but she has requested that I don't bring that part of history up around her, and I have obliged," Smith replied, beginning to work on the envelope again, "And I ask that you do the same."

"Sure thing skipper," Boggs said, "What you got there?" Smith held up his hand to forestall any further questions from Boggs as he skimmed through the comms message.

Smith's eyes went wide as he read, "You are hereby ordered to prepare you base for inspection by the office of the Inspector General."

Boggs face fell instantly, and he said, "Oh crap, not the IG."

"From Washington," Smith added.

"Sir, we have to start getting ready," Boggs said frantically, "What do you need me to do?"

"I think we will be going ahead with the Halsey mission. Have her captain meet with me immediately to go over plans. We'll have to take Enterprise off the roster for the escorts though, I need my XO here for the inspection. Have her come in and talk to me about her recommendation for a replacement," Smith ordered.

"That all skipper?" Boggs asked.

"All I can think of," Smith said, then quickly added, "And add Kongou to the escort fleet, I want her as far from my base as possible when the time comes."

"Good plan sir," Boggs said, "If you don't need me, I'll go start gettin everyone ready. Gonna be a long week."

"Yes it will be. Yes it will be," Smith muttered as Boggs ran out of the room, "It's going to be a very long week."


Authors Note: bit more character intros for this one, needed to bring in the cruisiers and subs. Speaking of which, I have found so much material on the American subs during WWII, that I'm considering doing a spin-of story just about them. Probably go up sometime soon.

I will also be putting up a thread over on Spacebattles about this story, and will be throwing in some of the extra bits that didn't make the cut, as well as my character sheets and battle maps.

So review answering time, this gets longer every chapter:

Thorthemighty321: I would love to throw in more destroyermen shout outs, but seeing as most people wouldnn't get it, I'm gonna stick to just using Walker as a character for now.

SulliMike23: Having old rivals meet is one of the main reasons for writing a story like this, it's gonna be fun writing some more scenes like this.

hfdt123: Fletcher was just doing her job as a drill instructor, if that means chewing someone out because they didn't preform up to expectations, then they won't hesitate to do it. Fletcher has nothing against Johnston personally, it's just that Johnston wasn't up to snuff this time.

kyuubi092: I'm up to using any ships in this story, I'll have to look those two up though as I don't know them off the top of my head.

Rapter267: I think the costumes are a large part of their character as well(and a large part of the US girls character that they all willingly wear uniforms, though there will be some relaxing of that in the future). And I do have some ideas about how I'm going to have the old aircraft carrier rivals meet, though that will be for later.

potatoslayer4: Finally managed to get the cruisers in, and as me and my friend put it, the fanbase will stage an open revolt if the USS Enterprise isn't added into WoWS as a premium.

Jedii: Finally managed to get this one out, sorry for the wait.

Colonel Amiruddin Arif: There will definitely be more scens with the battleships later(I had a big scene with Texas in a previous chapter, but it didn't pan out the way I wanted it to, so into my scrap file).

Fanatic-Fanatica: SoDak is the most advanced battleship at the moment, but her reason for bing commander is that she has the longest time in grade, ie longest time on the base.

chaosrin: When the shipgirls fight, they have full tactical control over their actions, meaning that they choose how to fight the battles, but strategic command rests with the humans, the admirals.

FrancisJames: Was originally going to have all of the Kongou sisters follow their crazy sister to Midway, but then I realized how stupid a strategic choice that would be, so just Kongou. And as to Willie D? Oh lord the comedic relief with that girl is going to be legendary.

Irontemplar: In the game Nagato has several lines in reference to the Bikni Atoll tests, so I see it as a buried memory that could resurface at any time, and common story that could link several ships together.

rstlss1: Oh the magnificent Kongou, she really is the expy of Jack O'Neill isn't she?

Dylanyo123: One of my main problems with anime is amount of fan-service. In a story like this, I want to hear the ship girls stories, not their love interests. While I do think that romance is a legitimate plot device, it shouldn't be the only plot device.

jacky2734: I do have a special plan for Arizona, but I haven't figured out how it's going to fit in yet. And I am on SpaceBattles, but I haven't published anything there yet. Litteraky the only thread I'm on is the Kantai fanfic recs one.

Guest: Exeter was actually on my shortlist of characters to bring in. expect her next chapter along with the first batch of commonwealth girls.

Russian Guest: As I've said in the past, I'm terrible at proofreading. I catch what I can, but I don't catch everything.

Old Iron: Thank you for your comments, and I hope you enjoy the rest.

tarboxdouglas: Welcome aboard this wild ride, and I hope you enjoy the rest.