Not So Common

Chapter 1

Supplies were... pretty meager at the moment, but perhaps that was fair, considering they were a fairly meager base. Not every godforsaken patch of rock on the Pacific had enough room for an academy and R&D- in fact, there was little more than the docks for the ships and the supplies needed to keep them operational at Commander Miller's station. And the ships themselves, of course.

Honestly, the Commander couldn't imagine how someone managed to handle dozens of ships- he had more than a handful with the five under his command. Well, he said that like they all caused trouble; it was mainly Downes causing enough trouble for the other four and then some. The number of mornings where he was snapped awake by blast fishing was more than zero, and that was a problem all on its own.

("Yes, Downes, the fish is very delicious. That is not permission to do it again!")

Their job wasn't really that demanding either- they swept the area surrounding the island every so often to make sure that no one, Siren or Sakura, was causing trouble, along with occasionally escorting cargo ships or the like. It wasn't a glamorous station, but it wasn't like everyone could be side by side with Enterprise, watching her trade blows with Akagi...

Still, they weren't completely unfamiliar with combat. The girls were warships, after all- to fight was in their very nature, even if they had grown beyond that, into doing things for pleasure, like cheerleading.

Speaking of, the Commander was sailing with Craven today- definitely not because he found Langley's lessons grating. Not at all. He would get an even bigger earful when he got back to base about the risks of making a vanguard his flagship, but whatever.

The chop slammed into the sides of the Craven, while Craven herself seemed chipper, going through her cheer routines like they weren't sailing into a potential warzone.

"Is now really the best time, Craven?"

"There's never a bad time to be inspired, Commander!" She jumped excitedly.

"Just don't dance your way off the ship."

"I'll be fine!" She chirped. Right, the rigging. He supposed she would probably be alright if she fell overboard.

------

It was Langley's planes that caught the first glimpse of the enemy after a couple of days of searching. Considering that it was composed only of a cluster of destroyers around a cruiser, the Commander decided to be bold.

The moment that he gave the attack order, Craven beamed and started on another routine. "Let's~ go~ com-mand-er!" Then she started firing on all cylinders (turbines? whatever...) and immediately steamed ahead. You could say a lot of things about Craven, but she certainly wasn't craven.

Perhaps opening with a mix of dive bombers from Langley and and shells from Nevada was a bit overkill, especially with the element of surprise on their side, but the sudden, violent attack immediately shattered cohesion in the enemy fleet- a bit too easily, the Commander thought, even for a few escort ships.

A few shots were fired vaguely in their direction, but they all were wildly off the mark. What sort of chumps were running these ships? Maybe they were mass produced models? Whatever the case, they were smart enough to beat a (disorderly) retreat once Nevada's shells started landing.

Before they could start patting themselves on the back, the commander saw a small human figure floating next to a capsized destroyer. And given the way she jumped overboard, Craven saw it as well.

"Craven!" He hoped the 'get back here' was implied.

"I've got it, commander!" Apparently it wasn't.

With that, she danced her way towards the enemy convoy, skirting around exploding shells and hopping over torpedoes with a dancer's grace. After cutting straight through an oil spill, she circled around and snatched the figure out of the sea.