Dear Mikuma,

Dr. Harpwell asked me to write and apologize for the little incident in the dockyard the other day. I'm not sure if he realizes that I'm aware you're a normal ship and not someone I can write a letter to, but it's easier to humor him than argue with him. I wonder why, if he thinks I'm delusional, he wants me to lean into it this way. I mean, is that how you treat a delusion? Doesn't make sense to me, but then, I'm only a sailor, not a psychiatrist.

Anyway, since I'm doing it, I might as well do it with sincerity, right? That's always been the way I try to operate. So, I'm sorry again for ramming you the other day. I promise it wasn't on purpose! Captain Gryphon, Lt. Hattori, and I were still working out the kinks in my new rig's steering system, and as you can see, we still had a ways to go.

They tell me the damage isn't too bad and they should have you fixed up soon—thank goodness! I'm OK, nothing was really damaged but my pride and some experimental gear we were going to have to rebuild anyway. And Cap'n didn't drown, so all's well that ends well.

Of course, the base commander wasn't feeling quite so generous, which is why I'm writing to you from Crone Rock. Cap'n and I were barely dried off before Admiral Sugita sent an orderly to let us know that we were being asked to remove ourselves and our harebrained scheme from HMS Barbican at our earliest possible convenience, which, as you know, means "drop everything and hustle your ass" in the Imperial Navy. ^_^

Still, it may be for the best. This base used to belong to the 501st back during the Battle of Britannia, and Cap'n was here in those days—he knows the place inside and out. The Air Ministry never cleared it out or assigned it to anyone else after the unit left, so we had to clean up a lot of dust, but all the repair shop tools and stuff were still here, and we're right on the water, but without other fleet assets around to... um... crash into.

The last few tests have gone really well. I think we've just about licked the steering and stability problems. I saw a truck from Ordnance Command pull up to the shop loading dock this morning, which probably means we'll be ready for weapons testing soon!

I hear Lt. Hattori calling for me, so I'd better wrap this up. Again, I'm really sorry about the accident. Get well soon! And please be careful when you go back into the field.

Your affectionate sister,

Before he could go on, she got close enough to the little group that she recognized the engineering officer's face—and halted in her tracks, staring at him in astonishment. Gryphon and Shizuka glanced at each other, puzzled, then turned to see that the newly arrived engineer was looking at Mogami with almost exactly the same expression.

"My gods," said the engineer. "So it's true."

"... Toshi?" said Mogami, her voice faint with disbelief.

The engineer's voice was no louder as he replied, "Mamoru."

Mogami blinked hard a couple of times to clear the tears gathering in her eyes, then threw her arms around the man, rocking him back on his heels. "Toshi! Man, am I glad to see you! Where did you come from?!"

Then, seeming to realize for the first time that the man she'd just hugged was wearing the uniform of an officer, she recoiled, squaring hastily up and saluting, her face crimson.

"I-I mean, Lieutenant Nishimura! I'm so sorry! Please forgive—eep!"

Her hasty apology was cut off as Nishimura, his face breaking into a wide smile, grabbed her up in a bear hug. "Never mind about that. You're alive!" he said, slapping her heartily on the back. "I knew it." Pushing her out to arms' length with his hands on her shoulders, he went on, "Didn't I tell you? Not even the Neuroi could kill Mamoru Satō." Then, releasing her, he tilted his head, his smile becoming slightly rueful, and added, "Although I guess it's doubly wrong to call you that now, isn't it?"

"You know about... ?" asked Mogami, looking awkward.

"Admiral Sugita briefed me before he sent me over here. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure I believed it until I saw you."

"Well, he didn't bother briefing me," Gryphon put in dryly, "so I'm just going to assume from context that you two know each other already."

"Toshi was the chief of my division when I first joined the ship," Mogami explained. "He was detached to take the officer candidate course just before we left for Archangel." To Nishimura, she said, "I thought they were sending you to Etajima."

"That was the plan, but someone decided it made more sense for me to take the course at Vickers here in Britannia rather than ship me all the way home and back again," said Nishimura. "And these aren't really real," he added, indicating his shoulder boards. "It's a provisional commission."

"It's real enough that I probably shouldn't have been so familiar with you. Sorry about that. I was just so glad to see a face I recognized from... before," said Mogami, a trifle awkwardly. "It must have been quite a shock when Admiral Sugita told you about me. Or, well, two shocks."

Nishimura laughed. "Only one," he said, and then explained to her puzzled look, "Did you seriously think nobody knew you were a girl, Satō?"

Mogami blushed crimson. "How—when did you figure it out?"

"Oh, within a week or so. Find me another engine room crewman who never, ever takes off his shirt," Nishimura said with a grin.

"Then why didn't you report me?"

"You were one of my best men! So to speak. Why would I want to be the one to end your career? Everybody in the division felt the same. Better to let you think we were all a bunch of idiots than lose someone we all knew we could count on."

Mogami felt herself tearing up again and didn't fight it this time. "... you guys..." she sniffled.

"Come on, pull yourself together, Satō," said Nishimura with gruff compassion—mostly, both Gryphon and Shizuka suspected, to keep himself from following suit.