Chapter Eight. Thank you all for reading!


The sea glistened under the morning sun, partially tucked away behind a puffy cloud. Kirov stood, dead in the water, as her engineering officers read a manual, over and over again, on the functioning mechanics of the steam turbine.

Akashi, Hood, Saratoga, and Mitsuwa stood on the pier, all with slight smirks on their faces.

You try this with a nuclear reactor.

She yelped as her engine room let out a scream of frustration.

Woah, please calm down a little.

"Sorry, this book makes no sense," came the response.

"It's so slow," her repair command observed.

Oh come on, we'd be stuck with no engine without this. Zuikaku's one boiler short, too.

Her weapons lay silent and unmoving, gun and missile crews gathered on deck, some of them laying on towels from their rooms.

A sputter, and a small stream of smoke emanated from the white funnel aft. The column widened, and Kirov once again began to move.

Kirov sighed and tried to turn for the port, holding tightly onto her coat. She felt a feeling she knew quite well now, even if she didn't turn that quickly in the first place. Her feet felt light, not rooted and solid like they used to. They were easily moved in the water, yes, but now she was almost ridiculously top-heavy. Her left knee buckled as her riggings dropped their weight onto it, sending the cruiser into the sea.

Kirov perched herself up on one leg, shaking off the remnants of the mighty splash that ensued.

You see, a steam turbine is much lighter than Kirov's usual reactor. Without the reactor's weight, she floated higher in the water, and was more prone to listing as well as presenting a larger target.

Akashi was grinning, Saratoga openly laughing with Mitsuwa, and Hood was still scribbling in that notebook.

How many notes can you take from me falling in the ocean?

At least, after the first half of the day, she'd talked with Fubuki and Kongou.

How awful it would be to be permanently top heavy, she almost pitied the poor girl. Well, she's gotten used to it.

She picked herself up, water dripping from her and her riggings.

Navigation, engineering, we're heading straight back. No exceptions.

There were a chorus of agreements, especially from her, yet again, soaked gun crews. The boiler steamed, and Kirov reached her new cruising speed of just under fifteen knots in about half a minute.

The modern cruiser was still drenched by the time she shuffled out of the armory, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Her four spectators were still grinning and, in the case of Akashi, laughing her guts out. Saratoga walked over to her with an apologetic expression, towel draped across an arm. The American carrier wrapped it around her friend.

"Oh dear. You've heard the story about Fubuki, right?"

Kirov nodded dejectedly. "I ran into her a few hours ago with Kongou. She told me."

Saratoga gave a small sound of satisfaction. "You're not alone. But I don't think this technically counts."

Kirov grunted and moved over to Hood. She leaned over the smaller cruiser's shoulder, surveying the paper the British girl held. One specific sentence at the very bottom of the page written in incomprehensibly small text caught her eye.

Ah. 'Do not install single boiler and turbine on modern cruisers'. Worthy of a medal.

Hood looked up and tilted her head. Admiral Mitsuwa put a hand on Kirov's shoulder, mildly spooking her.

"That made my week. Go get some rest, you're with it for two more days."

Two more days. I suppose it can't be that bad.


There was an abnormality in Yokosuka International Naval Base's usually pristine weather. Lightning cracked through the sky, great whips of light who shone and just as quickly hid. Dark clouds rolled overhead, spilling rain onto the buildings below. The harbor was deserted; sidewalks slick with the water from above. The rain fell in sheets, impacting the lonesome buildings of Yokosuka and great metropolis of Tokyo towards the northwest.

Kirov knew Ooyodo would be in the command center, tirelessly operating communications and radar, likely with Mitsuwa and Nagato in the same room, hovered over a map.

In the meantime, she sat on her bunk, watching Hood, Warspite, Saratoga, Iowa, Bismarck, Texas, and Prinz Eugen playing poker. It was a little cramped in the small room, but nobody seemed to mind. There was nothing much to do anyway.

Hood, playing as dealer, burned a card and added a fourth card to the four cards face-up on the ground.

"I'm all in for that one," Texas declared. She pushed her growing pile of chips into the center. A few groans arose from the group.

"I fold," Warspite responded, laying down her two cards.

Iowa moved her chips beside Texas's silently, Prinz Eugen following suit.

"Tch," Bismarck folded.

"Saratoga?" Hood asked. The fleet carrier was eyeing the deck of cards in Hood's grasp suspiciously, as if willing it to give up its next card.

"I'm in," she said. The soft yellow radiating from the light of the room cast a relaxing haven from the storm raging outside.

I much prefer it in here. No stability issues on my bed.

Hood discarded the first card. She peeled off the next one, slowly, and let it down beside the others. The four remaining participants revealed their cards.

"Ha! I wi-" Texas began. And then she noticed her comrade's ridiculously giddy face. "Screws."

Saratoga smirked, placing her cards beside the ones Hood put down. A straight flush.

"Hm. I must thank you for that win," the American carrier said sweetly. "That was a rather fun game."

There was a knock on the door, followed by a nearly imperceptible squeak of the hinges. A third British girl waltzed in. She looked somewhat similar to Bismarck, sporting the same gray as the base colour of her uniform. She had hair tied neatly into a ponytail that reached her waist, and a maroon red knee-high sock on her left leg.

"Welcome back, Exeter," Iowa said. "How'd it go?"

The heavy cruiser named Exeter gave a small wave. "It was nothing. Two skirmishes, a few ships lightly damaged, but we got the resources Admiral wanted."

So this is Exeter!

"Nice to meet you. Eurocruiser Kirov, second ship of the Eurocruiser Project."

Exeter turned to her. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. HMS Exeter, Royal Navy. I was not aware of your previous existence," the heavy cruiser said.

"Most of the people here weren't. Me and my sister were kept secret, by five nations, collectively." Exeter responded with a small hum.

"Poker? Mind if I join?"

"Of course not. Welcome back, Frau Exeter," Prinz Eugen chirped happily. The bubbly girl began to redistribute the chips from last game, Hood shuffling the cards. "Kirov, are you playing?"

Kirov slipped off her bunk and sat on her legs between Iowa and Bismarck. "I don't see why not," she replied with a laugh.