Not for the first time in his life, Corwin Ravenhair wished he had his childhood friend Kaname Sterling's trick of just knowing things. Sure, Kaname often found it annoying, and he supposed he would too, but in situations like this it would have been immensely handy to just be able to psychically turn to the collective knowledge base of his extended family and ask, "So... anyone have any idea why this Japanese battleship looks and talks like she's from the north of England?" His father would surely know.He supposed he could simulate the effect with his Lens, but the process wasn't as seamless. His attention would visibly wander. The answer was probably also contained in the mass of dossiers Murakumo had pulled from the 14th Einherjar Navy Group's files, which he hadn't had a chance to review yet. He knew a thing or two about Earth's Second World War, but this particular detail had escaped him.
Any road, Kongō was here now, and to say that she wasn't what he had expected would have been something of an understatement. She was dressed in a sort of modified shrine maiden outfit that was very Japanese, but her face and voice were English all the way across the board. If not for the clothes, he would have assumed she was a Royal Navy ship.
She also seemed very agitated, which Corwin supposed he couldn't blame her for, since she had just discovered that there was a Fleet of Fog ship going by her name.
Corwin let her get it out of her system, sitting and listening impassively while she railed against the indignity of discovering—in the middle of a mass meeting, no less!—that such an incredible liberty had been taken with her name, her history, her very identity, apparently beginning centuries ago, and she none the bloody wiser! How was she supposed to face her sister ships now? Or the cruisers and destroyers who looked up to her? How could she look any of her old shipmates in the eye knowing that this... this alien machine was going round telling people she was the great battleship Kongō?
"And just what," she finished, leaning forward over his desk with her hands planted flat on top, "do you propose to do about it, Admiral?"
They held that tableau for a moment, the battleship attempting (without much success, for she had not the physical stature of, say, Musashi) to loom over the admiral, red-faced and slightly out of breath; the admiral sitting in his desk chair, both he and the crow perched on his shoulder looking a little quizzically back at her. At length, the expression on Kongō's face shifted, changing slowly from fury to something like embarrassment.
"Have a seat and I'll tell you," said Corwin pleasantly, as if she'd come into his office and introduced herself like a normal person.
Kongō blinked, slowly removed her hands from his desk, and sat. Murakumo, long accustomed to her volatile colleague's fits of bombast, blandly placed a cup of tea within her reach, then another for the admiral.
"It may reassure you to hear," said Corwin with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "that you are nothing like your Fog counterpart."
Kongō chuckled in spite of herself. "I suppose that's good to know," she agreed, sipping her tea.
"As for your closing question," Corwin went on, "the first order of business is to extract her."
Kongō arched an eyebrow. "'Extract'?"
Corwin nodded. "She's still under Earthforce command, and I don't believe she's a willing participant. I don't know what hold they have over her, but I intend to find out. The way Operation AF unfolded, I wasn't able to get her out with the rest of her task force... but I promised her I wouldn't forget about her, and I promised my fleet we wouldn't leave anyone behind."
"So you're... what? Recruiting a fleet to storm Earth and get her out?"
"Not quite. Going back to Earth with me isn't a requirement of joining my fleet. The only ships I take on that trip will be volunteers twice over. But that's one of the main aims of the mission, yes."
"Hm." Kongō sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Well, I guess you'd better count me in, desu."