Not So Common

Chapter 4

If nothing else, Koln was a significant distance from her homeland, many times further than the Sakura. That made escape impractical, for very obvious reasons, although Miller's biggest priority became keeping her a secret.

Thankfully, one of the biggest obstacles in such a pursuit was a non-issue for Miller. He didn't have to pry hundreds of promises of secrecy from several crews, with every opportunity for shore leave presenting a massive risk... he had to get nine people to not blabber to the rare visitors from resupply convoys.

Of all of them, his biggest worry was Kisaragi, perhaps followed by Downes, who could occasionally be a bit of a loudmouth. Impressing the urgency of secrecy on Kisaragi was not particularly easy... if worse came to worse, she would have to observe the convoy from a distance.

But there was also the problem of what would happen if those sailors were to see Koln from a distance... especially that naval jack of hers. Thankfully, she did not object too strenuously to its removal.

With what might have been some pride on Langley's part, the jack was hung in one of her rooms. A 'piece of history', she said. Miller couldn't begrudge the woman a small trophy.

Then there was the matter of identifying marks. Koln couldn't exactly be sporting a German paint job in the middle of the Pacific without raising a lot of questions.

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Applying paint felt beneath his station, but there wasn't much he could really do about it. He just thanked his lucky stars high command didn't suggest dazzle camouflage.

For what it was worth, keeping Koln a secret was prioritized above even their patrols. That some of the girls read that as 'vacation' instead of 'time to work' was unfortunate.

Miller did plan on indulging himself in that atmosphere, once his work was done, of course. He, Nevada, and Langley couldn't cover up every little German nuance, but they could obfuscate enough to claim that she was just an unusual cruiser.

By the time their work was (mostly) done, the destroyers had spent a good portion of the day on the beach. Cassin had slept the day away- under shade, thank goodness- while Downes and Craven pushed the envelope of what the latter really should have been doing in her state. He did have to shout them down several times, but they seemed to enjoy themselves.

Lunch was Kinugasa's affair, while Aoba spent the day teaching Kisaragi the very basics of swimming. Their modified swimsuits were another fruit of Kinugasa's industry. (Some part of him wondered how tails impacted swimming, dynamics-wise... were they like rudders?)

Thankfully, in regards to swimwear, they did have something more than underwater demolition shorts lying around, saving Miller from giving up the ghost entirely. Admittedly, women's swimsuits were hit by fabric rationing, so he wasn't completely clear, but if it got them swimming, he didn't mind.

Hopefully, there would never be a life or death situation where they needed to swim, but Miller would never forgive himself if they died because they didn't know how to tread water after a sinking. However, those thoughts were far too grim for today- after all, they were going through with a christening.

It was nearing sunset, and the girls had gathered for something approaching a feast- whatever they could make with supplies on hand. A bonfire crackled warmly.

"Let's have a toast!" He cried. The Union girls and Aoba, who actually understood what was going on, raised their glasses. A moment later, Kisaragi attempted to mimic them with her glass of lemonade, managing to spill some. Kinugasa immediately began to fuss.

"Sorry, sorry. Anyways, a toast to our escape from the mirror sea, to the captured codes, and to our 'new' comrade-" a farce, of course, "-USS Carver!" He bowed his head in Koln's direction. That was to be her new name, after all, at least on paper. A lie to explain her presence.