|
Post by ebonyviper on May 14, 2007 13:36:23 GMT -5
(((((OOC: This is the actual RP that is related to the In the Navy RP brainstorming thread in the Brainstorming section. Don't laugh. This is the best intro I can come up with at the moment.)))))
The fleet had already been enroute to their destination of Malacca Straits for a fews days now, where there had been reports about pirates harassing merchant ships. And about half of those merchant ships that had been sunk were American, with some British, French, Mexican, and Arabic vessels thrown in so that these pirates could prove a point that they were not to be messed with.
One of the members in the fleet was a young Arleigh Burke class destroyer by the name of Nerina Hampton. Her station was near the aircraft carrier that was leading them and her rank was Lieutenant Commander, the highest rank a warship of the female persuasion was ever to reach within a Navy that was mostly dominated by males. Nerina had gotten some bad harassment because of that fact, but she was doing her best to ignore that and concentrated on the task at hand. Getting to Malacca Straits and help to resolve this pirate situation peaceful, although she knew that was not likely going to happen.
(((((OOC: Have no idea what kind of name the fleet call themselves, but right now, this post is open-ended and anybody can reply.)))))
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on May 14, 2007 14:37:04 GMT -5
<<< It would be one of the Pacific Carrier groups, likely based out of San Diego science.howstuffworks.com/aircraft-carrier.htm www.sizor.com/cvn65/>>>He was at once mighty and vulnerable, powerful and delicate, with many smaller beings crawling through him or sitting on his decks. Rear Admiral Caleb Chafee had almost literally been born for his job, had not remembered anything else but schooling, preparation -- and the endless reconstruction and modifications-- that had made him what he was now. He was one of the largest living beings on this world, and thousands of others depended on him to do their jobs, with millions more depending on all of them for their safety and freedom. He should have had no time to fiddle with MIDI sequences at this time, but the eighth bar of that last number he'd composed while riding at anchor in his home port still bothered him. Would another grace note make the difference? The entire sequence of music was displayed in a window amongst many other windows in his visual display, carefully masked from anyone else who might be monitoring. He could banish them in an instant to see all the aircraft laid out on his foredeck and the forklifts and small cars moving amongst them. They depended on him, and he on them. It had always been that way...
|
|
|
Post by ebonyviper on May 14, 2007 14:53:04 GMT -5
The only thing that Nerina hated about this voyage was the storm that had happened recently while enroute. She had been battered by the merciless waves, but had fought against them and escaping with only superficial damage that her crew was able to repair. Now she was looking straight ahead, keeping alert for any signs of the pirates that her fleet had been informed about as well as any indication that they were nearing their destination.
If only they wouldn't have to run into any those nomadics that roam the sea. She didn't like them, even though she had come from one such clan whose old matriarch was preparing to step down and let someone younger take her place. That someone was Nerina, but the young destroyer was having none of it and wanted to follow her dreams of joining the Navy and fighting to protect her country. What Nerina wanted was to see her name in the history books where she would actually make a difference instead of becoming a matriarch of a nomadic clan of ships.
That was what was important to her.
|
|
|
Post by Tracker89 on May 14, 2007 15:22:18 GMT -5
A small distance ahead of the carrier and the destroyer was Lieutenant Fletcher T. Anderson, a male Ticonderoga-class missile cruiser with an utterly normal and unremarkable(aside from an embarassing training accident) career, and he wanted to keep it that way. Feeling restrained and out of place in the military, the cruiser wanted nothing more than for his tour of duty to end and for him to receive his paycheck and all the benefits that come with it. Then he could continue his life on a much more enjoyable and relaxing path as a merchant ship or a pleasure craft.
Meanwhile, on the helipad located near the rear end of his deck, rested a young Sikorsky SH-60 Seahawk who goes by the name Janet Archer. After the recent storm, she was happy to be outside her cramped hangar and enjoyed the sea breeze and the sight of the warships moving elegantly in formation. She turned back towards the hangar, and looked at the camera lying in the corner with a small pile of other personal belongings. She wondered if a photo of the fleet would be censored or confiscated...
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on May 14, 2007 16:00:29 GMT -5
<<< Lots of personell have personal cameras with them, though they have to clear anything they send back so that it doesn't endanger operational security>>>
Lt. Tobias Arden braced himself against the strong crosswind that blew across the carrier's flight deck, and waited for the forklifts of the support crew to check him up. The Harrier/F-14 mix had been hoping that Lt.-Commander Breckenridge would be next to him today. His common sense told him that he was nuts to be mooning over the F-35 - she was one rank up on him, after all - but he'd been crushing on her for the last four months. He snorted sea spray out of his nose and wondered if he'd get to fly today...
|
|
|
Post by Tracker89 on May 14, 2007 17:30:18 GMT -5
((Both of our aircraft characters have the last name Archer, and that could cause some confusion. Should I change it? Oh, and I know that cameras are allowed in the Navy. Janet was just wondering if a photo of the fleet would be considered "safe" or not))
Janet sighed and turned around, entering the hangar and attaching the camera to her side. She rolled back out onto the pad and began snapping pictures of the fleet as well as individual ships, and she was especially satisfied with the angle she could get of the aircraft carrier cruising right behind the cruiser she was on.
The Lieutenant Junior Grade was looking forward to her next chance to fly, as Fletcher allowed her to carry her camera with her as long as it didn't interfere with her duties, something which so far she hadn't allowed to happen.
"Just think of the views you can get from up there..." She whispered to herself.
|
|
|
Post by ebonyviper on May 14, 2007 20:37:00 GMT -5
Nerina's radar alerted her to four possible blips at the edge of her range. She didn't know what they were, but didn't speculate whether they were friends or foes. There were scattered groups of pirates lurking in these waters and Nerina had been warned that she had to be careful.
I am careful, the destroyer thought to herself irritably, Those nomads just don't think I can handle myself on the frontlines just because I'm a female. Pft! What do they know about following dreams? Bunch of hypocrites.
Of course, she had to keep a close watch on what her radar was picking up, just in case she had to warn her fleet of impending danger.
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on May 14, 2007 21:23:06 GMT -5
<<< Wasn't thinking, sorry. You had the surname first, Tracker, so I'll change mine.>>>
Lt-Com. Claudette Breckenridge was in her "zone", the mental space she climbed up to when she was awaiting her call. In her mind, she was already airborne and going through the particulars of today's orders. The F-35, the genetic result of crossing F-18 and first-gen stealth fighter lines, seemed oblivious to the presence of the forklifts doing their final checks on her, but now and then she shifted sublty or lifted an aileron to ease their passage. This was her second tour of carrier duty, and she'd learned that the only privacy to be had on a carrier was inside her own headspace. If she was the object of any male's attention, she definitely had no idea of it.
|
|
|
Post by Tracker89 on May 15, 2007 11:58:13 GMT -5
Janet's little photo session was interrupted by the sound of several forklift engines approaching. She quickly lowered her camera and turned towards the 'lifts, who were mechanics judging from the insignia painted onto their sides.
"Lieutenant?" The highest-ranking forklift said respectfully.
"Yes, sailor?" Replied Janet.
"Unscheduled maintenance. Captain says it's just in case you go up today."
"Very well." She was nodding as soon as the word "captain" was mentioned. She sat still for several minutes as the forklifts looked over her, and gave a very slight wince as they straightened a tiny cosmetic dent she had sustained during the earlier storm. There was no other damage, and as soon as they were finished, she dismissed them and they were fast on their way back to the lower decks. She just managed to catch a cold glare from one of them as they disappeared around the corner of the hangar.
She sighed, fully aware that she was resented by most of the crew. It was no secret, Fletcher ruled over almost everyone like a dictator, except for Janet who had saved him from an embarrassing failure during a joint exercise upon his entry into the Navy. She had tried to convince the cruiser to treat everyone equally, but it seemed this attitude was much more deep-rooted and difficult to change than she first thought...
---------------------------------------------
Fletcher was doing what he usually does when the fleet was cruising in friendly or neutral waters, and that is to keep a close eye on his crew through the network of cameras installed in the lower decks. When his current crew were first assigned to him, he had to use the PA speakers to wake up anyone who got lazy on the job. Now the quiet buzzing of a camera swiveling to look at them was enough to get them moving.
His routine was disturbed by four signals coming from his radar. He quickly analyzed them, and determined them as "unidentified" for the time being.
"This is Lt. Fletcher, I am detecting four unidentified incoming objects. Is anyone else seeing this?" He radioed the rest of the fleet.
|
|
|
Post by ebonyviper on May 15, 2007 12:08:39 GMT -5
Well, at least I'm not the only one who noticed that, thought Nerina as she received Lt. Fletcher's alert.
"Yes, Sir," she replied in a formal manner, "Four blips at the edge of my radar range. Can't really make out what they are, Sir, but they seem to be shadowing us."
(((((OOC: Er... kinda confused here. Fletcher's a Lieutenant and Nerina's a Lieutenant Commander. But he's a cruiser and she's a destroyer. How would she be taking orders from him? Size and breed hierachy differences?)))))
|
|
|
Post by Tracker89 on May 15, 2007 12:23:45 GMT -5
((He wasn't ordering anyone, just reporting what he saw on his radar. Did I make it sound like he was making an order? Cause I'm not very familiar with military/navy procedures...))
|
|
|
Post by ebonyviper on May 15, 2007 12:38:32 GMT -5
(((((OOC: I think it was the ranks of our characters that had me confused. Sorry about that.)))))
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on May 15, 2007 13:27:14 GMT -5
<<< We might want to check up on rank structure and protocol a little more for this>>>
The nomad ships sighted the fleet about mid-morning, and it was obvious that the fleet were already aware of them, probably had been for some time. They were all women, with the size and build of frigates or small destroyers and of the same clan origins. The scents that the wind carried across the water spoke of other ships and many aircraft and at least one of the fleet that was female.
"Could that be little Nerina, I wonder?" the oldest one snorted scornfully. "I heard she broke her mother's steel, throwing herself away like that."
"And she could have been Matriarch instead of wasting her time with the males." the next oldest one concurred.
|
|
|
Post by ebonyviper on May 15, 2007 13:42:28 GMT -5
"Why would she do that to herself?" asked a slightly younger female, "Her poor mother."
~~~~~
Nerina started to pick up the scents of the four shadowing blibs and recognized them to be members from her own clan, which was known as the Dolphin Clan. Her mother, Diane Hampton was its currently matriach, but currently mother and daughter weren't speaking to her.
Great, she thought irritably, Just what I DON'T need right now.
(((((OOC: Yeah, as well as the size difference of the ships. Anyway, I chose to call Nerina's clan the Dolphins since dolphins, the animal, are very intelligent and know had to make an informed decision. This is probably the reason why Nerina was chosen to succeed her mother as matriarch, because of her intelligence and leadership skills.)))))
|
|
|
Post by Evangeline on May 15, 2007 13:54:46 GMT -5
Lucinda Blaines, the oldest of the four, engaged her long-distance vision to check out the fleet. "Ah, there she is, closer in to the carrier. Yeah, that's good, stay close to big Daddy, he'll look out for you!" She chortled at her own wit.
Caleb was also aware of the four clanswomen matching his fleet's course, and betrayed a snort of annoyance. The occasions that Lt. Hampton had had to deal with her female relatives had not been winning situations for her. In his fleet, the males kept their mouths shut, at least while on duty, because he'd give them hell for exacerbating tensions within the fleet, for the same reason that discussion of politics and religion was discouraged in military mess halls. That didn't mean they didn't occasionally break discipline, though. It just kept the hostility to a dull roar. He signalled a three-degree course change and an uptick in speed to twenty knots. How long where those pests going to hang around?
|
|