The waves parted before the bow of a dark gray ship.They slid along her flanks, alternating over the dark gray hull and the luminescent lavender glyphs that adorned her sides. The ship was making a leisurely, for a Fleet of Fog vessel, eighteen knots through the Pacific. Going where she was told but in no particular hurry to get there. The light cruiser had five large turrets on her hundred and eighty meter or so hull with three guns each. None were particularly large but against smaller ships they would be devastating, she was a light cruiser, made to kill destroyers, frigates, corvettes, and anything else foolish enough to threaten the larger ships she was built to guard. Her hull number, forty two, was the only hint as to the ship who's doppleganger she was, the U.S.S. Savannah.<br/><br/>The ship herself was immaculate, every surface gleamed as if recently polished, there was not a spot of corrosion, and nary a single barnacle on her hull. Hanging from her degaussing lines and antenna were hundreds pennants that fluttered in the south pacific breeze. Numerous flags dotted her upper works surrounding a single large purple pennant with three cyan gems arranged in a cluster on it.<br/><br/>Standing in the bridge was a single young woman (http://i.imgur.com/mxpFljK.png), appearing to be in her mid twenties. Cyan and purple gems adorned her embroidered skirt, top, and sleeves while her purple hair spilled down around her shoulders. Diaphanous purple silk flowed behind her, but just where it attached to the rest of her costume was impossible to discern, seemingly changing depending on what angle you looked at her from.<br/><br/>The bridge she stood in was not the one the Savannah had possessed during the second world war. Instead of utilitarian steel and rivets the deck was polished teak wood. The consoles and pedestals were all a black cast iron with ivory and bronze dials and readouts. The ship's wheel bronze with teak handles. The lower half of the bulkheads were teak as well with the upper halves being covered in exquisitely detailed maps that upon close inspection look to have been hand drawn. The whole bridge oozed with an opulence that turn of the century steam liners only wished they could have replicated.<br/><br/>The young woman stood beside the ship's wheel, lightly resting one of her hands upon it as she scanned the sea ahead. The bridge windows were opened, allowing the sea breeze in to ruffle her hair. "This is the Savannah," she said conversationally to the otherwise empty bridge. "Reporting to local command as ordered."