Cuttlefish
Posts: 2454
Joined: 1/24/2007 From: Oregon, USA Status: offline
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October 27, 1942 Location: Kwajalein Course: None Attached to: Disbanded in port Mission: None System Damage: 6 Float Damage: 0 Fires: 0 Fuel: 475 Orders: Perform routine maintenance and repairs and await further orders. --- Shiro Kuramata is standing beside the forward 5” turret. He has a chipping hammer in one hand and a wire brush in the other and is wielding them with dexterity. Chips of gray paint are flying through the air and forming a nice pile around his feet. To his left Seaman Second Class Hikaru Shoji is doing the same work, though without quite as much speed and skill. The air is warm and humid. Both men are stripped to the waist and sweating heavily as they work. “When I am no longer in the Navy,” grunts Hikaru, “I am never going to paint anything ever again.” A big chip of paint flies back and strikes him in the forehead, then falls to the deck. Shiro grins. “I enjoy painting,” he says, “but I agree it may be a long time before I want to paint something gray.” He stops and gestures at a spot up and to Hikaru’s left. “You missed a spot,” he says. Hikaru glares at the offending spot and grunts. “Seriously, I think I have stripped and painted this turret three times since the war started,” he says. “Not to mention the rest of the ship. Chip and paint, chip and paint, chip and paint! What would it hurt if we stopped painting the ship for even a month or two?” “Rust,” says Shiro, not pausing in his work. “The enemy of every warship, from gunboat to aircraft carrier.” “The enemy of every sailor, you mean,” grumbles Hikaru. The conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Riku, who is carrying two five-gallon buckets of gray paint. He sets them down on the deck next to the two men and flexes his hands. “There you go, gentlemen,” he says, “courtesy of the ship’s stores.” He pauses and looks over the side of the turret. “You missed a spot,” he says to Hikaru, pointing to the area up and to the left. Hikaru rolls his eyes in exasperation. Riku laughs and lifts up a small bucket he had somehow balanced on top of one of the paint cans. “I brought you some water,” he said. Both men thank him. Hikaru takes the bucket, drinks deeply, and then offers it to Shiro. When the men are done Riku takes back the empty bucket and departs. The two sailors return to their work. A few moments later a low voice speaks from behind Hikaru. “You missed a spot,” it says. “Will everyone just shut up about the damned spot…” says Hikaru, turning impatiently. His voice shuts off in something close to a moan as he sees who he is talking to. “Please, continue your statement,” says Chief Petty Officer Shun. He pauses and examines the callused knuckles of his right hand. “Start again with the part where you told me to shut up. That was very interesting…”
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