A little omake idea I've been working on for the past couple of weeks. Hope you guys enjoy.
If Gunners Mate First Class Aaron Jones could describe his new assignment, cramped would seem to be the most appropriate. Even with less than a quarter of the crew on her, the newly launched light cruiser barely felt larger than the old destroyers he had served on before.
"Not quite what you expected?" The Chief Petty Officer, a man by the last name Clark, leading him to the enlisted berths asked with a chuckle, glancing behind him as Aaron ducked through another hatch.
"Yeah… You'd figure ten years of service would get me stationed on something other than an oversized tin can."
The attempt at humor seemed to fall flat his new boss, who stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. "You're new here, and I'll admit that compared to the Brooklyns and New Orleans she isn't much to write home about," The man said, an all too familiar glare directed at the gunners mate. "So I'll let you off with a warning for that one. But that's the last time I want hear you call her that. Your boss, Assistant Gunnery Officer Mustin, won't give you a warning before he reams you a new one, and everybody else on board feels the same. She deserves a hell of a lot better with how she's busted her ass that last few weeks helping us get her ready for her commissioning."
"Chief?" Jones asked, looking at the man like he'd just grown another head. "I think you've spent to much time inhaling fumes in the engine room, because you're making it sound like those rumors spreading around the fleet are tr-"
Jones jumped to the side, barely avoiding a tool box… that was traveling under its own power several feet off the ground. Blinking, Jones watched as a young woman in her early twenties seeming to appear holding the tool box, never breaking stride. She glanced back at the two men as she ran by them with tired green eyes and a warm smile, she turned back around and rounded the corner.
"What the…" Jones muttered to himself, not quite believing what he'd just saw.
"Jones, meet Scarlett." Jones's companion said with a slight chuckle.
"Scarlett?"
"You didn't see the resemblance to Vivien Leigh?" The Chief replied. "It also seemed fitting given who christened her."
"So she's really…"
"Yeah, she is." Clark responded. "I don't blame you for thinking otherwise. If I hadn't seen the same thing on Brooklyn before I transferred here, I would have tried throwing her off this boat the first time I laid eyes on her."
Jones shook his head. "And to think I thought the bridge crew on McCormick was pulling a joke on us." he muttered to himself. "Is she always in a hurry like this?"
"Unfortunately." The man replied. "She hasn't talked to anyone on the ship yet, but we've seen her running around here at all hours since November 30th, trying to make our jobs easier. She's the only one acting like this though. You know those issues with the ship to ship radios everyone's been having in the last year? Not a single peep from her on it, even to her own sister."
"And that's a problem?" Jones asked. "Everyone's been pulling more hours since the Japs hit us at Pearl."
"Except at this rate I'm worried she'll need a refit before her sea trials even start." The Chief responded making his way in the direction the girl had gone. "And I don't particularly like sitting on my ass while my ship runs herself into the ground trying to help me."
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"Here you go sailor." USS Atlanta told one of her engineers as she dropped the tool box next to him. She turned around and sprinted back through the room's entrance before the man could even turn around to address her, making her way back towards the her deck. She'd heard that the stern 1.1 inch mount wasn't traversing properly, and if she could figure out what was jamming it up that would one less thing her crew would have to deal with on her pointless shakedown-
Lost in her train of thought, Atlanta didn't realize she had reached the hatchway that lead onto her deck until her foot caught its edge. Crashing onto her deck, she rolled across it before coming to a stop at its edge, only her inability to leave her metal hull responsible for keeping her from going over the side. Groggily getting to her feet, Atlanta smoothed out her skirt and gazed out at the Manhattan skyline that sat across from her spot in the naval yard.
"You okay Alli?" A worried voice said over her radio set. Turning toward the hull of her sister Juneau, Atlanta spotted her younger sister standing next to her starboard wing turret.
"I'm fine June Bug." Atlanta replied, her southern drawl carrying over the airwaves for the first time since she'd had her radio installed. "Just caught my foot on the knee-knocker getting out here. Good to hear you got your Ship to Ship radio installed."
Atlanta watched as her sister frown deepened. "I've had this radio for a little bit Alli. I've been trying to talk to you for the past week."
"Sorry June Bug, I've been a little too busy to notice. I've had so much work I've had to finish up for my commissioning."
"So that's why I haven't seen you since Pearl got hit…" Atlanta could hear the worry in Juneau's voice. "Ever since that radio report came in, you've disappeared. Everyone in the harbor's worried about you Alli, even Delhi..."
"You mean that oversized destroyer that they stole Edison's guns to refit." Atlanta sneered. "Did she want to know when I'd be ready so she could point me at the Krauts instead of the bastards that attacked us?"
"No Alli, she's worried about you. Said you were going to burn yourself out or get yourself killed if you kept this up."
"So what Juneau," Atlanta shot back. "While we were sitting here because a bunch of old seadogs can't learn new tricks, half our battleline got its teeth kicked in at Pearl. We could have wrecked that attack, we might have even saved ships. Now I've got at least two more months between my unnecessary shake down cruise and the refit that's going to go with it before I even have a chance to get to the Pacific, and that's assuming I'm even sent there and not stuck on babysitting duty over in England. Now everyone's busting their rear ends getting me ready to go. I have no right not to be doing the same."
"And just what do you think you would be able to do love?" Came a new voice, British with a hint of something else thrown in.
"Who's this?" Atlanta asked.
"The oversized British destroyer." Came the reply. "His Majesty's Ship Delhi. But what you might think of me isn't important right now. Tell me love, how many days of work do you think you're shortening for fitting out by working yourself to death?"
"Does it matter?" Atlanta responded. "It's bad enough I'm wasting time with this bullshit shake down…"
"I can assure that cruise will be anything but a load of bullocks." Delhi chastised. "Let's just pretend your navy does what you want them to do and sends you straight from here to the Pacific. Then, in your first battle you go to take a shot at some Japanese bombers and find out your turrets won't move, and you get hit with a bomb or torpedo?"
Atlanta just shrugged her shoulders. "We're best suited to protect carriers and battleships ma'am. Every ounce of ordinance thrown at us is one less thrown at them."
"And what about your crew?" Delhi replied. "From what you're sister has told me, and in your own words, it sounds like you care about them. How would you feel if you had to watch them die because a few easy to fix problems prevented you from doing your job?"
"I…" Atlanta braced herself against her portside wing turret as she felt her legs go weak as the thought her crew dying in her arms flooded her brain with fatigue. With that on top of all her hard work over the past two weeks, Atlanta quickly found herself barely able to stand. "I don't know."
"I know that love." Delhi replied. "I know you just want to help. But right now the person who needs your help the most is yourself.
"I…" Atlanta could feel tears trickling down her face.
"She's right Alli." Juneau added. "You start shakedown in a week, and I don't know when I'll see you again after that. I just want to have a sister to talk to until then."
"Sure thing June Bug." Atlanta wearily replied as she collapsed against her turret. "Just let me get some shut eye first."
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"Hey Chief, she's over here." Jones called out as he spotted the sleeping form of Atlanta curled up against her port side wing turret, her coat draped over her like a blanket.
"Well what are you waiting for?" Clark asked. "Pick her up so we can get her into a real bed."
Jones looked back at the girl curled up next to the turret, more than a little uncomfortable at the thought of carrying her through the ship. "Chief…"
"No one's going say a thing, if that's what you're worried about." The man replied. "As I said, we've all been hoping she'd finally start taking care of herself like she's been taking care of us. We'll take her over to the Chief's Quarters, no one will bother her there."
Picking up the girl, Jones followed the chief back into Atlanta's hull only to be stopped by her captain. "Sir, we found this girl…" Jones began to say, only to be cut off by a sharp elbow from Clark.
"We found Scarlett sleeping next to the port side five inch mount. I figured it might not be a bad idea to give her a real bed in the CPO's quarters so she could have a little privacy."
"Take her to my cabin." Captain Jenkins replied. "I've got housing back onshore, and no one will bother her in there. Lord knows she deserves at least that much after the last two weeks."
Following the Captain up to his quarters, Jones carefully placed the sleeping girl in the bed before pulling the sheets over her. Turning back around he saw the chief giving him a slight smirk.
"Now that might start a few rumors." The man said, earning an eye roll from Jones. "Come on, let's give sleeping beauty there her privacy."
Just ask Akatsuki how 'elephant' that was one dark night to see all those 5"/38s pointed at her out of the dark.
