Small Ship, Big War - The Voyages of the Hibiki

[1EyedJacks]

Shun's gunna kill that guy...

[Lecivius]

By the twitching of Okubo's thumbs, something wicked his way comes.

Great reading!  I can almost feel the humidity in the air [;)]

[tocaff]

This really keeps getting better and better.  I look forward to each episode and have to admit to being disappointed when there isn't a new installment available.  Beware of Shun.....

[Ol_Dog]

The current date in the game is July 24, 1943, so I'm almost six weeks behind right now.


I am glad to see we have at least another six weeks to look forward to -

[saj42]

Shun is a harsh diciplinarian (sp?) - Okubo is just a bully
I wonder how well Capt Ishii and Lt Miharu can turn a blind eye to the 'punishment' that Shun will soon be dishing out.

Go Hibiki !!!!

[Cuttlefish]

June 14, 1943

Location: Rabaul
Course: Docked
Attached to: TF 36
Mission: Surface Combat
System Damage: 1
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475

Orders: Await further orders

---

The Gulf of Siam, 1919, aboard the French steamer Hier:

Young Hagumu Ishii stands in the front rank of the ship’s crew being held at bay by the Malay pirates. Not far away the ship’s first officer kneels defiantly in a pool of blood, hands bound behind him, as one of the pirates lifts his axe for the first stroke. Behind them other pirates hold guns on the remaining officers. The faces of the officers look stricken and ghostly in the light of the lanterns.

Ishii does not think about it. He just knows that it is an intolerably unjust that a man who has shown the courage the first officer has should have his head hacked off as if he were a beast in a slaughterhouse. His instinct makes the decision to act before his intellect can overrule it.

The guard only a few steps from him has his head turned, watching and grinning as he waits for the axe to fall. Ishii steps forward and wrenches the heavy Lebel rifle out of his grip. He rams the barrel of the rifle into the guard’s stomach and pulls the trigger.

The sudden noise shocks everyone into immobility for a second. Ishii works the bolt, raises the rifle, and shoots the man with the axe through the head. The axe clatters to the deck as the pirate crumples.

Ishii sees sixteen armed pirates turn to face him. His intellect, a bit on the tardy side, informs him that he has acted rashly and is now in deep trouble. He fumbles with the rifle as he drops to one knee and tries to work the bolt again.

The French officer reacts more quickly than anybody. He rolls onto his back, the blood soaking into his white shirt, and kicks out at the axe. It slides towards the crew, leaving a bloody streak across the deck, and comes to rest at the feet of only other Japanese crewman on board. This is Shun, a member of the black gang. Shun stoops and grasps the axe as the pirates fire their first ragged volley into the crew. Several are hit. The man just behind Ishii screams and falls.

Shun stands, holding the bloody axe. “At them!” he roars in the polyglot French that is the lingua franca among the crew. “For your lives!” He springs up to where the leader of the pirates is holding a Mauser C96 machine pistol. The pirate tries to turn and bring the gun to bear on him but Shun moves with astonishing speed. His axe takes off the pirate’s right arm below the elbow, and then the back swing lays open the man’s throat.

The crew are a mixed lot. Besides the two Japanese there are Chinese, Malayans, a pair of Punjabis, and an Australian, among others. These men recognize that they must now kill or be killed and surge forward. Several fall, but the rest close with the pirates.

Ishii has gotten a grip on the rifle again and begins to fire steadily, picking off another pair of the pirates. Shun leaps onward, leaving someone else to pick up the Mauser, and wields the axe with great strokes. His terrible grin and bloody, upraised axe spreads terror among the pirates facing him. The ship’s cook, a Gurkha, appears from somewhere wielding a kukri. With a ululating cry he hurls himself into the fray, spreading more fear and death.

The pirates are a tough bunch. There is little of violence that they have not seen, but they cannot stand against this. Panic spreads among them, and with that the crew’s victory is assured. Six of the crew are killed and several more injured, but in the end the last four pirates fling themselves over the side and swim for it.

Ishii stands holding the rifle and looks over the blood-washed deck, which is a macabre sight in the light of the slowly swaying lanterns. Now that the battle is over reaction sets in and his hands begin to tremble. Shun appears in front of him. The stocky, powerful man’s shirt is splashed with blood. The two young men look at each other for a moment.

They have spoken together on the journey, if only because it is good to hear another voice from home. Their very different backgrounds have prevented a close friendship from forming, however. But now Shun grins and claps him on the shoulder.

“So, maybe there is something to this samurai ancestor business after all!” he says. “You showed more guts than sense, but damn, that was well done!” He looks positively cheerful. Ishii stares at him for a long moment, his eyes still wide, then carefully sets down the rifle. He is able to make it to the rail before he starts to vomit.

---

Rabaul, 1943:

Chief Petty Officer Shun does not drink much. He likes to drink, but he is a man of iron discipline who knows that sometimes if he has too much to drink bad things happen. A cup of sake every now and then helps him think, however, and right now he is sitting in the corner of a gloomy bar in Rabaul sipping at the sake and thinking. There are a few other sailors in the quiet place, but none from Hibiki.

Captain Ishii steps into the bar. As his eyes adjust to the dimness he spots Shun and walks over to him. He takes off his cap and sets it on the table and sits down. The waiter, always quick to spot an officer, promptly brings him a cup of sake.

Shun is not surprised to see the captain. The two men have known each other for a long time. Ishii sips his sake and the two men sit in silence for a while.

“Tell me, Captain,” Shun says at last is his low, growling voice, “what do you think of Seaman Ariga?” Captain Ishii leans back in his chair and considers Shun for a moment.

“Speaking professionally, his evaluations are excellent,” says Ishii at last. “Lieutenant Kataoka cannot say enough good things about him. He is talented, works very hard, and always willing to help a shipmate.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “If you had asked me eighteen months ago I would have said he was lazy and a bit of a shirker. But people change. The pressure of the war breaks some people, and it makes men out of others.

“And speaking otherwise?” asks Shun.

“Since you tried to kill him,” Ishii begins, and Shun winces slightly, “he has shown great courage and iron will in trying to become a better person. What he is trying to do, it is not easy. Many would fail. But I would say that today he is a good man, maybe even a promising one.” Shun gazes down at the table.

“You know why I dislike him,” he says. Ishii nods. “But I have taken pride in acting professionally towards him since…well, since…”

“Yes,” says Ishii. Shun sighs and continues.

“Yet I recently put him in a position where someone else would punish him,” says Shun. “If it were anyone else I would not have done it, or I would have done something to make sure my actions did not come back on him.” Captain Ishii nods. He does not know the whole story, but Miharu and Kataoka have recently spoken and Ishii knows something of what has gone on.

“And what will you do about that, Chief?” asks Captain Ishii. Both men know that this is not a matter of regulations. It is about honor, a deeper and more serious matter altogether.

“I have to make it right,” says Shun. Captain Ishii says nothing. Shun raises his head and looks at him.

“My daughter likes him,” he says, and there is stress in his voice.

“For what it is worth,” Ishii says, “I think Minori would have liked him a great deal,” Shun stirs. He never speaks of his dead wife, and Ishii seldom mentions her. After a moment Shun nods slowly.

“Perhaps,” he says. After this the two men do not speak for a while. They sit and sip their sake, each thinking his own thoughts. Overhead a fan slowly twirls, doing little to stir the humid tropical air.

[1EyedJacks]

Hey Cuttlefish - what was the name of that fortune teller again? I might want to hunt him up for a reading...[;)] I still think Shun is gunna kill that guy - <laughter>.

Very cool plot - thanx!

Please add me to the list for a final copy - hopefully after your game gets thru 1946 [:D][:D]

[Capt. Harlock]

Hey Cuttlefish - what was the name of that fortune teller again? I might want to hunt him up for a reading... I still think Shun is gunna kill that guy

My humble bet is no. Shun believes he himself is partly responsible for what happened.

BTW, Cuttleffish, that was a great flashback scene to the Malay pirates. When a Gurkha shows up with a kukri, the other side is in deep trouble.

[princep01]

Oh, no, Shun would not kill a fellow Petty Officer.&nbsp; However,&nbsp;Okubo (may his&nbsp;tribe dwindle)&nbsp;may soon&nbsp;learn that many unfortunate accidents happen in times of&nbsp;war.&nbsp;&nbsp; Some of these mishaps are fatal; all are painful.

[Feinder]

I hadn't been aboard Hibiki in a few days, and getting caught up with the latest happenings has been such a pleasure.
&nbsp;
I don't know how you can -continue- writing good stuff constantly.&nbsp; I get a brain-burp and can throw down a few moving paragraphs, but that's it.&nbsp; I'm done.&nbsp; The next installments are invariably much less inspired and ultimately suck in comparison.
&nbsp;
I don't know you do CF, but keep it up!
-F-

[Cuttlefish]

June 15, 1943

Location: Rabaul
Course: Docked
Attached to: TF 36
Mission: Surface Combat
System Damage: 1
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475

Orders: Await further orders

---

It is fairly late. In the machine space behind the forward ammunition hoist several hammocks sway gently with the rocking of the ship. Riku lies in one of them, thinking. Shiro sits nearby on the floor, and Riku can hear the scratching of a pen as Shiro bends over a notebook. Faint sounds of machinery do nothing to hide the snoring of someone asleep in another hammock, and now and then comes a faint rustling as one of the snakes shifts in its crate.

“What do you think of Chokichi?” Riku suddenly asks Shiro. Shiro stops writing and looks up.

“Chokichi?” he says, confused. “There’s no one named Chokichi on board, is there?”

“No, no,” says Riku. “As a name for my first son.”

“Ah,” says Shiro. He notes that Riku does not mention the woman with whom he hopes to have these children. He wonders if Riku will have trouble breaking the habit of not talking directly about her or saying her name if he is ever released from his oath. “Well, a name that means ‘good fortune’ seems very appropriate,” is all he says.

“That’s what I thought,” says Riku. He turns and looks down at Shiro. “What are you doing down there, anyway?”

“Oh,” says Shiro, “I am trying to practice my writing. I think if I am ever going to write that book I need to improve a great deal.” He frowns down at his notebook. “I don’t think it is going very well, though.”

“Let’s hear something,” says Riku. “Maybe you are being too hard on yourself.”

“All right,” says Shiro. He clears his throat and begins to read. “We spent the early summer in Rabaul. Every one or two or three weeks we sailed to Gili Gili. That was dangerous, but the rest of the time we spent in port. It wasn’t a bad place, and we all liked the hot springs very much.” He stops and looks up at Riku.

“Well,” says Riku slowly. “It…”

“It stinks,” mumbles a voice from one of the other hammocks.

“Shut up, Yoshitake,” says Riku with a laugh. He addresses Shiro again. “It isn’t terrible, but it does sound like one of those essays we had to write in school about ‘my trip to the beach’ or something. It needs something to bring it to life, to make it feel to readers like they were there with us.”

“I know,” says Shiro with a sigh. “But I don’t know how to do that.”

“I don’t either,” says Riku. “But if you are serious I would talk to Lieutenant Miharu.”

“Talk to the Lieutenant!” says Shiro. “I could not bother him with something like this!”

“You would be surprised, I think,” says Riku. “I was in that English class he did, remember. He is a good teacher and the best educated man on the ship. I’ve heard he was a language instructor before the war. Not only that, but he likes to see people try to improve themselves even in ways that have nothing to do with fighting the war. I think he would be glad to help you.”

“Well,” says Shiro dubiously, “I guess all he would do for my presumption in asking is to have me clean the heads for a month or something.”

“That’s the spirit!” says Riku.

[Cuttlefish]

June 16, 1943

Location: Rabaul
Course: Docked
Attached to: TF 36
Mission: Surface Combat
System Damage: 1
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475

Orders: Await further orders

---

The harbor at Rabaul is crowded with Japanese warships and merchant vessels. There are three battleships, including Yamato and Musashi, and numerous cruisers and destroyers. A convoy of large tankers is in port, bringing in needed supplies of fuel. There are nearly twenty frieghters and transports.

Given this accumulation of what the enemy must obviously view as valuable targets, what happens during the afternoon is more than a bit of a mystery. For the fifth straight day no enemy planes appear to attack the airfield. In the early afternoon, however, the air raid warning sirens begin to sound. Anti-aircraft guns on shore and aboard ship are manned, and the gunners await the enemy.

Just coming back into the harbor from a morning anti-submarine sweep are four small patrol craft. These vessels are only about 150 feet long and are far from the most valuable targets available. Nonetheless eleven American type B-25 bombers appear over the hills and begin a determined attack run over the harbor with these ships as their target.

None of the Japanese watching can guess what orders these men have been given or why they are pursuing the sub chasers. That they have courage is unquestionable, however. The enemy planes are followed over the harbor by more than fifty Japanese fighters. Though fighters pick off six of them the remaining five, all damaged, stay on their targets.

The bombers are at six thousand feet, high enough to remain above the two volcanoes flanking the harbor entrance. They release their bombs, but the nimble little patrol craft evade them all. Trailing smoke and pursued by fighters, the surviving bombers swing out over the open sea and try to make their way back to Gili Gili. They are soon out of sight of the watchers in the harbor.

[Capt. Harlock]

ORIGINAL: Cuttlefish

Just coming back into the harbor from a morning anti-submarine sweep are four small patrol craft. These vessels are only about 150 feet long and are far from the most valuable targets available. Nonetheless eleven American type B-25 bombers appear over the hills and begin a determined attack run over the harbor with these ships as their target.

Sounds like a major FUBAR at the American airfield . . .[X(]

[rtrapasso]

ORIGINAL: Capt. Harlock

ORIGINAL: Cuttlefish

Just coming back into the harbor from a morning anti-submarine sweep are four small patrol craft. These vessels are only about 150 feet long and are far from the most valuable targets available. Nonetheless eleven American type B-25 bombers appear over the hills and begin a determined attack run over the harbor with these ships as their target.

Sounds like a major FUBAR at the American airfield . . .[X(]

Actually, sounds like a typical WITP naval attack mission...[8|] [:D]

[DuckofTindalos]

Yup, that's not FUBAR, that's SNAFU...

[Cuttlefish]

June 17, 1943

Location: Rabaul
Course: Docked
Attached to: TF 36
Mission: Surface Combat
System Damage: 1
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475

Orders: Await further orders

---

The old warehouse off the docks at Rabaul is mostly empty. Dust covers the floor and a few motes dance in the slanting rays of sunlight that come in through the narrow, dusty windows. Up in the rafters a few bats are asleep, hanging upside-down in the dimness.

A side door rattles, then creaks open. Chief Petty Officer Shun and Petty Officer Okubo step inside. Okubo looks around.

“What are we looking for here, Chief?” Okubo asks. Shun closes the door behind them.

“Nothing,” he says. “We are here to talk.” A slight feeling of disquiet creeps up Okubo’s spine. He has no idea what Shun might have against him, but the Chief has obviously not brought him to such a lonely spot to talk about the weather.

“Sure, Chief,” he says, trying to sound casual. “What are we going to talk about?” Shun paces slowly around to face Okubo.

“Relax, Okubo, I’m not going to hit you,” he says in his rumbling voice. Despite Shun’s assurance Okubo begins to sweat slightly. He has no idea where this is going, but it can’t be good. After a moment Shun continues. “I have hit you before, though, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Chief,” says Okubo.

“Tell me, did you ever figure out why I did that?” Okubo does not in fact really grasp why it happened, but he thinks he knows what Shun wants to hear.

“You correctly disciplined me for interfering with injured sailors getting food and treatment,” he says. He can see Shun smile grimly in the dim light.

“Yes,” says Shun. “But I should not have done it in front of ordinary seamen. It made you look weak in front of them and made it hard for you to feel in command, didn’t it?”

“Chief, I’m sure you took whatever action you thought was right,” Okubo says.

“Don’t bullshit me, Okubo,” growls Shun. “Tell me what you think, not what you think I want to hear.” Okubo swallows.

“In that case, yes,” he says. “You shouldn’t have done that in front of an enlisted man.” A note of resentment creeps into his voice. Shun nods.

“Good,” he says. “That is why you are going to hit me, Okubo.”

“Chief?”

“You heard me,” Shun says. “I owe you a punch. You get one for free, right now. Take your best shot.” Okubo thinks furiously, looking over this offer for traps. He has wanted to take a swing at Shun for a long time, but never thought he would have the chance. But he does not think this offer can be genuine. Shun watches him hesitate and growls. “Show some guts and do it,” he says. “I will not strike back.”

“All right,” says Okubo, finally realizing that even if it is a trick of some kind he has no choice. He takes a breath, lets it out, and balls his right hand into a fist. Then he puts everything he has into a right cross. Shun grunts and sways with the force of the blow, but does not move backwards even slightly.

“Not bad,” he says, rubbing his jaw. Okubo feels pain from the knuckles in his right hand. It was like hitting an anchor. Still, it was rather satisfying.

“That pays that debt,” says Shun. “Now I am going to tell you something.” He indicates the braid on Okubo’s sleeve. “That uniform is not to establish a pecking order so the strong can push around the weak. Wearing it is about your duty to your Emperor, your ship, and your shipmates.” Okubo starts to speak, but Shun cuts him off.

“Just listen,” says Shun. “When you stop being fair, when everyone on the ship can tell you favor some and are hard on others, that gets to be like rusted bearings. There’s friction and inefficiency. You were taught that. You should remember it. The Captain doesn’t like it when things stop working smoothly, and I don’t like it either.”

“Yes, Chief,” says Okubo. He has no doubt of what Shun is talking about.

“Good,” growls Shun. “Remember it. Or we will have another private talk, and you won’t enjoy that one nearly as much.” He gives Okubo a frightening smile. “I hope I am being clear.”

“Yes Chief, perfectly clear,” says Okubo quickly. Shun grunts, satisfied. There is one thing you can count on about men like Okubo, and that is that they understand threats perfectly well.

[DuckofTindalos]

From now on, I'm going to stop using superlatives. There simply aren't enough superlatives to describe this AAR.[&o][&o][&o][&o][&o][&o][&o]

[AU Tiger_MatrixForum]

ORIGINAL: Terminus

From now on, I'm going to stop using superlatives. There simply aren't enough superlatives to describe this AAR.[&o][&o][&o][&o][&o][&o][&o]

I agree. This is the most superlativest AAR of them all! [;)]

[&o]

[kaleun]

I am back after a five day cold turkey withdrawal.
Agree on the superlatives; they would be superfluous and redundant!
I shall cease and desist!.
&nbsp;
Sign me up for a copy!

[Mike Solli]

CF, what's the status/fate of the other 3 Akatsukis?