A/N: Fragment 5/6 for the Second Chapter. This is a fairy-heavy imagination of the happenings-on when a kanmusu fires her batteries.
"So this is the thing that replaced my job, eh?" Katō mused as he inspected a massive device reporting various angles, ranges, and bearings.
"It's a Shagekiban computer," Abo nodded. "Calculates ranges and the recommended firing solutions in one centralized location on the spot. Pretty nifty, isn't it?"
"Indeed," the man grunted. "I bear no grudges against advances in technology. This certainly beats screaming my lungs out to the gunners. I see it was manufactured by Japanese craftsmen too," he added, affectionately massaging the familiar triad logo of Mitsubishi. "And there are no words that can describe how happy I am to see that emblem. The Americans can take away our damn battleships with those 'fair treaties' of theirs, but to hell with them if they try and lay a hand on our industry. Speaking of Western powers and their treaties, you daydreamers never restored the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, did you?" The chief gunnery officer jumped and looked at him startledly.
"Don't pretend that you weren't a supporter of the London Naval Treaty, or that you and I stood on opposite sides when that ugly thing came roaring down our alley." Katō tapped his head. "I can do more than calculate ranges, you know."
"I was surprised you remember that," Abo replied meekly.
"Oh, of course I remember that. I remember the entire damn nine thousand yards. I remember when you lot kept screeching about the Treaty being a 'necessity' and forcing Tōgō and the Emperor to weigh in on the decision. I remember when that led to me getting kicked off the delegation and replaced with someone more 'moderate.' Finally, I also remember me telling the American ambassador, 'screw you,' when he had the gall to invite me to dinner, as if nothing was happening. Of course," he laughed, "it's a bit foolish to think I'd hold that grudge against you for what? Eighty years? All I want to know is, Kiyokazu, how much longer did you live?"
"The last year I remember is 1948."
"That's a good nine more years than me. Long enough for the war against China to end, and certainly long enough for the Western powers to decide whether they liked us or hated us. Tell me Abo, before you died for the first time, did you see a bright future for Japan?"
"It was the dawn of a whole new age for the country."
"A whole new age, you said, and I missed it?! Damn, I'd love to see the rise of those aircraft," pointing above his head where some JSDF fighter jets soared over on routine patrols. "But enough wishing-washing, it's time to remind our boys how to lay down some serious broadsides against Japan's enemies. I'm not about to let all that strategy-building I've worked on since my time on the Asahi go to waste!"
He walked out and gazed down at the crew idling about below deck.
"TO YOUR POSTS!" Katō roared. "BEAT TO QUARTERS!"
"Burning…love!"
"Turrets one, two, three…mic check…aim at the enemy! FIRE!"
"Haruna…will give all she's got! Commence firing!"
"All guns! Fire! Hiittt ittt!"
"Hit! Hit! Hit! Hit~!" Iku sang as she watched the shells tear into the battleships' gunnery target.
"Again, dess! These guns aren't all for show! Burning…!"
The submarine floated onto her back, relieved that she was indeed merely reporting on the shell's impacts rather than the object of their trajectory. It also allowed her to kick back and enjoy the ensemble of 140mm and 356mm rifles whistling their little tune of the day.
However, she couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was a bit 'off' about the noise…
"And so the moment we've all been waiting for has come," Goto murmured as he peeked out his office window at the familiar booms of fourteen-inch guns going off in the distance.
"It has," Ōyodo nodded in agreement as she studied the quintet through her binoculars.
"Has Mikasa fired her broadside yet?"
"No," the cruiser frowned as she lowered them, "that's the odd thing. It looks like she's frozen in place."
"What?! Let me see!"
"Distance to target, fifteen thousand meters!" An officer shouted as he gazed through her rangefinders.
"Distance to target, fifteen thousand meters!"
"All guns, elevate to forty degrees, three-quarters charge!" Katō bellowed up the speaking tubes as he read the computer's recommendation.
"Forty degrees, three-quarters charge, FIRE!" Abo roared.
Much to the entire bridge's surprise, instead of being met with the deep reverberations of four twelve-inch guns going off in unison, they were greeted with the sound of silence.
"What the hell are those men doing in there?"
"Distant to target, fifteen thousand meters!" The rangefinding officer shouted frantically.
"Order plus twenty seconds…plus twenty-two seconds…plus twenty-four seconds…If this was an actual engagement the enemy could have fired off an entire volley!"
"You there! What the hell is wrong with you lot?! Load the guns and fire!"
"Sir, the cannons are loaded and ready," a sailor reported as he appeared from his casemate, "but—"
"But what?" Abo demanded.
"But none of us have ever fired these guns at such distances," he scratched his back nervously, "so none of us can tell if we're actually training them properly. We can barely even see what we're firing at. Sir…how can we aim at something we can't even see?"
"That's what the new electronical systems are for; no need to stick your neck out and spot the enemy to shoot!"
"We know, but the gunnery officers in the casemates and turrets feel uneasy about blindly relying upon machinery for the solutions."
"Nariharu's right," his superior added as he wiped the sweat off his brow, "what happened to Katō Kanji's methodology?"
"This is the progression of the centralized fire control he thought up," Abo pointed at the rangefinder sitting atop Mikasa's foremast high above him.
"So no more range clocks? No more shouting orders until our throats are dry?"
"No," the chief gunnery replied firmly, "trust the computer's operators to have the right calculations."
"Uh, that's the thing, Kiyokazu," Maruyama interjected as he emerged from forward 12" gun turret. "I know that it isn't that revolutionary for you, but the gunners are sweating at wit's end laboring over whether they've got it right or not. Is there no way you could meet them down the middle and –"
"NO! Look around you!" Abo shouted angrily. "Look at the battlecruisers to our left! You see how many rounds they've fired off while we've been wasting time? We don't have time for this! We don't have time to be hand-calculating the ranges when our enemies can do it in a clock tick!"
"Abo…please," a gunnery officer took off his cap and bowed in submission, "just this once, can you give commands while Katō and the other operators formulate the solutions? We'll follow the machine's recommendations; all we need is something familiar to get us in the rhythm of battle."
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Abo's face remained completely expressionless, refusing to give any indication of his inner thoughts. Instead, the fairy paced up and down the bridge, deep in thought, before letting out a sigh in resignation.
"Hurgh….Fine…"
He approached a circular device that had been covered over, pulled the black tarp off, and carefully turned the hands to the "3" position.
"Fifteen o'clock…to the right of that old hag of a mermaid…"
The entire deck burst into cheers. Sailors threw their caps high into the air as if they had just been told that the war was over, gunnery officers burst into giddy bouts of laughter and ran back to their posts to deliver the good news, and Maruyama and the other musicians eagerly scurried about the deck, blackboards with the words "FIRE" strapped to their backs.
"Three o'clock, range: 15,000 meters!"
"Three o'clock, range: 15,000 meters!"
"Three o'clock!"
"Get that battery loaded!"
"Steady now, don't rush the hoist! We don't need a magazine detonation now!"
Goto wanted to believe that he was dreaming, because what he saw before his very eyes was nearly unthinkable.
Atop each of Mikasa's four twelve-inch guns was a sailor straddling the barrel, stuffing an Arisaka rifle down the muzzle and looking out towards their target fifteen-thousand meters away. Some fairies had lowered a lifeboat with a smaller target roughly the size of one of the crewmembers, and rowed until they were right under the turrets of the battleship's main battery.
"What on earth is she doing?"
"Kawai, got that peppō?"
"I'm holding it dead center!"
"Good, pull the trigger!"
Puff.
"Forty degrees!" A sailor aboard the lifeboat shouted.
"The computer's right," a gunner raised a thumbs-up in confirmation.
"Told you!" Abo hollered. "Now stop kissing that barrel, Kawai, so that I can give the order."
"I'm off now, sir!"
"Forward battery, test fire, 0 knots, right gunnery. The distance is 15,000 meters. Prepare to fire!"
"The forward twelve-inch battery test fire. Right gunnery. 15,000 meters!" A gunnery officer shouted through a megaphone.
"The distance is 15,000. Prepare to fire," a musician yelled into forward turret.
"The distance is 15,000. Prepare to fire!"
"Ready to fire!"
"Mikasa!" The chief gunnery officer cupped his hands and shouted into the bridge's speaking tubes, "do your thing!"
In gentle, fluid motion the barrels of the forward turret dipped down, then nudged gently to the right.
"I'm ready when you are, Abo! Should gut the target midships!"
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
"FIRE!" Kawai frantically raised his blackboard before the gunnery crew.
"Getttttt readddyy…."
"FIREE!"
Boom. Boom. Two twelve-inch shells whistled out of the rifling and began their noisy journey towards their unfortunate victim. Seconds later three six-inch projectiles joined them, giving a shrill cry as they spun about like angels of death.
Any moment now, they would make landfall.
"Get ready…" an officer counted down as the stopwatch's hand shifted to the right. "Impact!"
There was a distant muffled sound of the gunnery target disintegrating into molten shrapnel as it erupted into a massive geyser of sea foam and steam.
"Direct hit!"
"Direct hit!" came the excited chatter from the radio room. "Confirmed penetration: 267 mm!"
"Admiral, transmission from Iku: 'Direct hit! Penetration: 267 mm!'"
"267 mm? That's the amount I'd expect from a fourteen-inch shell, not Mikasa's twelve-inch ones!"
"It's because of the 12"/50's super-heavy AP shells; the extra weight gives the penetration value of the USN's pre-treaty guns. Alaska tried explaining it to me once, and for some reason it stuck. What surprises me, however, is that she got the bearings in the opening salvo."
"That's because she did a test shot. In battle, Mikasa won't have time to waste like that. Order Iku to push the remnants of that metal container along; let's see how she does when she rolls."
"Reload the guns, hurry!"
"Close the magazine doors!"
"Loading up the powder in two go's!"
"One twelve-inch shell, coming right up!"
"Abo," Akiyama shouted, "they're moving the target!"
"The submarine's pushing it along at 4 knots! Computer indicates that it's closing the distance, currently 14, 950 and closing!"
"Doesn't matter Katō, we'll get it all the same. Target moving at 4 knots. Order all batteries to fire, right gunnery. The range is 14, 900 meters. Give extra lead to the right."
"All batteries, right gunnery. 14,900 meters. Extra lead to the right!" A sailor shouted, snapping his telescope shut.
"14,900 meters, all batteries, extra lead to the right!"
"All batteries, extra lead to the right. The distance is 14,900 meters."
"Ready…!"
"Uh, Mikasa, is that all?"
"Mikasa," Kirishima stared at the serene battleship confusedly, "why did you only fire off five rounds?"
"Mikasa-san, don't worry, dess! Give all of your BURNING LOVE at once!"
"Mikasa is okay, right?"
"Right?"
The pre-dreadnought ignored them, instead intently watching the purplish-blue shades of Iku's hair float in the water as the submarine pushed the target along. She wasn't quite sure what I-19 was doing, nor exactly why she was intentionally running into the battleship's line of fire, but like hell would she let that deter her from firing.
Now that her crew had overcome their initial "new technology" jitters, there was only one thing left to do.
She had been hit near the funnels. She had been hit in the casemates. She had been hit dangerously close to a barbette, but the Russians thankfully were lacking in the gunnery department to effectively penetrate it.
The distance was 4,800 yards and closing, but none of the officers seemed to mind even as a close call coated them with splinters and dust.
Because they were not just any men, but Meiji men, who kept their heads held high and always looked forward.
In fact, what was it that Akiyama had said as they left Chinhae Bay?
That's right…
"Weather is fine with large swells…all guns, FIRE!"
"Impact…now!" Kongō's chief gunnery officer shouted, stopping his watch. Everyone looked on in awe as the guns quickly found their bearings, correcting their aim slowly but surely as the shells first fell close, then straddled the target, then at last…
Boom.
The target exploded spectacularly, sending a spray of water high into air that completely obscured it from view.
In that moment, the fast battleship felt an indescribable thrill run through her as she watched Mikasa's entire rigging disappear into a massive cloud of smoke, her six-inch and twelve-pound artillery singing a wonderful song of continuous yellow rain. She had always wondered what her old friend had been like in the prime of her life, and while the current drill was no Baltic Fleet, it gave her a clear indication of what Mikasa had once been. Never once did the pre-dreadnought hesitate as she deftly maneuvered, skillfully skating about the onlookers in pursuit of Iku and her charge. If anything, Mikasa was constantly looking ahead in high spirits, ignoring the slightly unsteady pitch of her hull as she rolled back and forth on the high waves.
SPLOSH.
"Guh, shit!" something gurgled into the radio.
"Iku, are you all right?!"
"I'm okay," the submarine cackled feebly into the radio, still frantically hyperventilating, "I was getting Radford vibes from that though…Surprisingly, Mikasa's gunners have good aim, or they were being extremely careful not to hit me. All projectiles either fell too short or a little ahead of me."
"How many of her shells actually hit the target?"
"A surprisingly high amount, I'd say. I uh, didn't get an exact count since I kept getting jump scares by incoming twelve-inch shells, but if she discharged like fifty or sixty shots I'd say at least thirty or forty landed on it before capsizing."
"Incredible," Goto murmured. "When I read Shiba Ryōtarō's serialization growing up I always imagined that he embellished his descriptions of the havoc wreaked during Tsushima. Seeing it with my own eyes, on the other hand…now that's something else. Ōyodo, inform Mikasa to cease shelling. She and her crew have proved themselves enough today. We'll see to correcting her initial hiccup tomorrow."
"Orders from command ship Ōyodo: Cease fire!"
"Lower the ensign!" Akiyama shouted.
"Cease fire! All batteries cease shelling!" Abo bellowed.
"Stop firing!"
"Stop! Firing!"
"STOP!"
"STOP!" Kawai frantically waved.
"Stop…firing!"
"Understood! Expending any remaining ammunition!"
"I say," Abo coughed as the smoke clouds receded, "it may not be Shimose powder, but these new shells and propellants are something."
"The rate of fire on those guns is incredible too!" Hikojirō added. "Two rounds a minute on those twelve-inch guns was something we could only dream about with 12"/40's."
"Supposedly they can fire even faster," Akiyama looked up from his after-action report, "because they have something the Americans call a 'two stage powder hoist,' but I think the men failed to take full advantage of it."
"That wouldn't surprise me," the officer's face soured slightly, "from what it sounded like the men assumed that it was like her old hoist and kept trying to load the shell and the charge at the same time. Combine that with bags of nitrocellulose that are who-knows-how-old and a tendency to leave the magazine doors open, we have a problem. A colossal problem."
"We do?"
"Akiyama," Abo rested his arms on the bridge's railing, "you and I both know that the Royal Navy is one of the most formidable forces ever to put to sea, but even they make mistakes. Many years after you passed away, the United Kingdom went to war once more with Germany. In one of their engagements a group of battleships squared off against a German one, which was only being accompanied by a single cruiser. Despite this, the Germans succeeded in annihilating one of the British battleships, detonating its magazine very much like we had done to Borodino at Tsushima. There were only a handful of survivors. I don't think the British admiralty ever agreed upon the exact cause of its loss, but," he faced the strategist, "I certainly don't think the shortcuts they took helped."
"But perhaps—"
"They did the same thing too to Mikasa, when they were running test trials on her. When they were test firing her batteries, the focus was on how many rounds per minute she could lob out, not how precise they were. I remember reading the telegrams bragging about her potential-'a broadside nearly every 40 seconds,' they crowed. Now, it's true that Kato and I worked hard on instilling the need for precision in the men, but it's a vulnerability that I wouldn't easily rule out."
"Got some work on weaning the crew off old habits to do, don't you Abo?" Mikasa gently scolded her chief gunnery officer.
Her fairies were about to reply when suddenly…
"Miiiiiiiikkkkkkkaaaaaassssssaaaaaa~!" A familiar-sounding voice rumbled.
Oh dear.
"Yes, Kongō-?" The pre-dreadnought stopped dead in her tracks. Coming straight at her on a collision course was Kongō, a big smile plastered on her face as she somersaulted over.
Except, it wasn't Kongō. At least, not back-from-the-dead, destroyer-eating and nightmare-bringing Kongō-bongo, unless she somehow traveled back to 1911 and decided that spiky buns and long locks were fashionable again.
"This…is…awesome!"
"I say, AWESOME!"
"AWESOME!"
"Uh, Kongō, this isn't the first time we've met…" Mikasa mumbled, trying to untangle herself from the girl's torso. She quickly discovered that there was no need to; not-Kongō had already danced a safe distance away, giving Mikasa a half-embarrassed salute.
"Oh, right, it ain't proper to show so much affection without introducing yourself first, innit?" The woman took off her white cap and gave the pre-dreadnought the peace sign, "first ship in class, Kongō, at your service!" She eagerly clenched her fists and made a gesture as if she was about to hop right back at Mikasa like a sugar-high rabbit. "It's so cool meeting the Heroine of Tsushima!"
"Admiral, we didn't happen to bloody time travel back one hundred years, did we?" The battleship asked her officers, who were still reeling from the incredibly-close encounter.
"If we did," Akiyama began, massaging the comically-massive lump on his head, "it wouldn't explain why we're still here, or why she's gallivanting about in summer dress whites in the middle of winter…"
"Or the red cotton undershirt she's so clearly wearing under that poorly buttoned-up jacket, if you can even call it that," Tōgō added, giving a nod at not-Kongō's artistic preference to wear her white uniform like a hussar's pelisse.
"I'm not hallucinating right now, am I?"
"Nah," she replied crisply in odd English, the wrong English. "I'm right here."
"Did you just say nah? Don't you usually say nope~?"
"Neigh."
"So you're a horse now? And what's with American accent?"
"Oh," she scratched her head sheepishly, "Blue Ridge taught me English, so…"
Wait. What.
"You're from Barrows-in-Furness like me, what are you talking abou—"
Clomp.
"Hey~, if you keep being so hyper like that, you'll cause an earthquake on-deck, dess!" The familiar, miko-wearing Kongō scolded her counterpart. Much to Mikasa's surprise the fast battleship gave no reaction to the revelation that she had a doppleganger, let alone the fact that Not-Kongō lacked the Barrovian touch.
"Heh, I got sorta carried away, but when I heard the Shimose powder I couldn't take it anymore!"
"But don't run away from your crew like that just to take a closer look~! You're still a metal ship with duties, y'know!"
"I've been cooped up here for almost two weeks now; of course I'm going to be a little antsy for action!"
"There's two of you," Mikasa said feebly, interrupting the duo's conversation.
"Yep~!"
"Indeed, there are two of us."
"But who are you?"
"I'm Kongō," Not-Kongō curtsied, "didn't I just tell you that?"
"She's the guided missile destroyer, Kongō-dess!" the fast battleship cooed, "and more than willing to give the next generation of BURNING LOVE!"
"I see Kongō your tea-loving compatriot as my role model," JS Kongō explained, "so even though I usually hang out at Sasebo, I try and come up here to Yokosuka to try and pay her and Commodore a visit often."
"Do the crew approve of your little escapades, though?" Mikasa furrowed a brow in disapproval. "I don't know too much about the situation, but from what I've read it's not like the voyage is a cakewalk for the navy."
"Actually, they don't," the giant destroyer huddled awkwardly, "so it's more like whenever there's official business to do over here in the east."
"Not that it matters," Kongō shrugged, "Admiral and I both spoil her often whenever she is at Yokosuka. She's adorable, no?"
"I don't know if adorable is necessary the right word…" the pre-dreadnought retorted, sizing up the "adorable" destroyer who was in fact, taller than her despite the work done on her hull. "Although, this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Is she as dotty as you are, Kongō?"
"No…" Not-Kongō shook her spiked buns furiously. "Commodore is Commodore, even if the admiralty makes him an acting full Admiral. I dunno what you did to Kongō to make her so love-crazy about that man, though…"
"I could ask you that same question," Mikasa tilted her head. "She's been like that ever since Vickers delivered her…"
"Aw man, so you mean that the two of you wouldn't want to enter a threesome with Goto?" Iku purred disappointedly as she resurfaced beside them. "That would have the perfect-GUH!"
"Uh, hi, Mikasa…" the submarine laughed nervously as the pre-dreadnought loomed over her, her ram threatening to make contact mid-ships and split her in two.
"Don't talk to me, or my daughter, or my daughter's daughter like that ever again, you hear?"
A/N: In case you're scratching your head at Mikasa's fairies antics, it's based off what a surviving crewman, Kawai Tarō (a cornet player in the ship's band), stated was their method of practicing gunnery: supposedly, they would insert a rifle (Satsuma slang 'peppō' for 'teppō') into the main battery and fire a test shot, and, if the angle was right, then proceed to fire the guns.
Shimose Powder was apparently a formidable propellant introduced during the Sino-Japanese War that was used by the IJN until pre-WWI. According to some historians, the unique recipe gave it an edge over its rivals in the RN and MN.
"Weather is Fine with Large Swells": The legendary telegram message that the Combined Fleet sent to the government on the morning of Tsushima. If Mikasa ever makes it into Kancolle, this better be her attack line, or something about the weather.
The penetration of her new 12"/50's: Based upon penetration values courtesy of NavWeaps.
According to James Schneer, Mikasa was originally equipped with a powder hoist that brought up both the charge and the shell together at the same time (an apparently 'powerful' modification to the two-stage hoist on the original Formidable class pre-dreadnoughts) that supposedly increased her rate of fire; initial trials conducted by Vickers indicated that she could reach 30s if the crew hurried, though somewhere between 40-48s was ideal based upon the turret angling.
And finally, introducing the last of Mikasa's famous crew-members-turned-fairy that I will be including in the story as of now: Katō Kanji. Saka no Ue no Kumo proclaims that he was possibly the first man to have developed concentrated fire from a centralized position (which Pakenham, as an observer on the Asahi at the same time Kanji was an officer aboard her, might have introduced to the RN, though the book acknowledges that this claim might be suspect), and became instrumental in the IJN's effectiveness at Tsushima. Afterwards, Katō ascended the ranks until he became Minister of the Navy in the 1930's, a position he used to vocally oppose the London Naval Treaty. What happened exactly afterwards is unclear (some suggest that Hirohito himself was agitated with his position and had him removed forcibly, others claim that even Tōgō got irritated with how viciously he was opposing the Treaty despite his own misgivings that he 'recommended' to Hirohito a more moderate replacement), but Katō was ultimately unseated from that position. Naturally such a fall from grace might irritate a man, and Katō definitely wasn't below being petty: when the American Ambassador invited him to dinner, he flat out rejected it in protest of the London Naval Treaty.
