1 January 1909: La Prensa NacionalQuoteOne tricolor replaced another today as the former French Guyana and the French Lesser Antillies were admitted into the Republic of Gran Colombia. This most recent territorial acquisition by Gran Colombia extends our border well east, and creates new borders with the Netherlands, which has a variety of modest holdings in the region.
President Rey Alizandro welcomed approximately half a million Francophones to the Republic by noting that he looked forward to a prosperous and healthy Francophone community within the cosmopolitan fabric of Gran Colombian society. He noted the significant yet underdeveloped economy of French Guyana in particular, where placer gold has been found in the remote south and considerable agricultural potential exists along the coast.
The transition was not entirely without wrinkles, however, as Ministry of Security officials confirmed that Guayana Francesa's criminal law does not quite mesh seamlessly with Gran Colombian federal law. An unnamed official within the Ministry noted, "In Gran Colombia, vice-related crimes such as gambling and prostitution are prosecuted at the state level, whereas in France, these are offences under the national criminal code. Consequently, the repeal of French national laws and their replacement by Gran Colombian federal law means that vice-related activities in Guayana Francesa are currently decriminalized."
Asked if quick action would be taken to resolve this loophole, the official replied, "You would have to speak to our colleagues at the state level, as they would have jurisdiction."
A spokesman for the new State Government of Guayana Francesa told this reporter, "We are very busy managing all other aspects of the transition, and our offices are under-resourced. We do not have the time to prod the federal government into revising its laws."
9 January 1909: Pago Pago, Colombian PolynesiaOld colleagues in the shipping industry sat down for drinks in the corner of a tin-clad tavern. The harsh sounds of construction were only barely muffled by the sheet metal walls, which satisfied these particular gentlemen: it'd be harder for third parties to listen in on their conversation.
"I like what you're doing with the place", the Swiss man remarked. "We never did get around to developing it at all, despite the quality of the harbour."
"I expect that's because your main west-east trade routes lie further north", the Colombian replied. "Not much need for you folks to support operations south of here."
The Swissman nodded. "Not unless we establish a foothold in Maoria. But they're pretty insular; about the only thing that'll open up that market is if the NSN goes down and makes 'em."
The Colombian smirked. "So what brings you down here, then? Not strictly to see me, I trust?"
"Hell, no", the Swissman retorted. "No, I'm on the lookout for some tramps to add to the line. We lost three of our eight to the f**king Brandies before we could re-flag, and I'm at risk of losing a heap of cash if I can't maintain the contracts I signed before the war. Problem is, the insurance hasn't paid out yet and the market on tramps is tight as a result of war losses on both sides."
"War can hurt the bottom line, alright", the Colombian agreed, slugging down some lukewarm ale.
"You guys aren't helping, you know. I lost a gig to Puerto Rico because you guys closed the canal to us. What gives? The war's over."
"I guess the government doesn't like what's going on in your neck of the woods these days; you guys have had two abrupt changes in government this decade. Maybe they're worried there'll be another one", the Colombian answered.
"Tempest in a tea pot", the Swissman said derisively. "Nothing for you to worry about."
"Easy for you to say that", the Colombian disagreed. "Wasn't that long ago you guys were in deep with the Eastern Kingdom, raising merry hell on our front porch. You guys have a bad rep. Defend yourselves if you want, but face facts: You're shut out of a lot of markets because you fly the flag of a pariah, your insurance premiums are astronomical, and neither of us would be surprised if you guys are in another shooting war with the French or Chinese in a year or two. Can't be good for business."
"Yeah, well, what am I going to do? Sell out and retire?"
The Colombian replied, "Sure - sell out, anyway. It happens that I have a backer with deep pockets just now; let me buy you out. I'll create a vice-president position for you, give you some shares."
The Swissman's eyes narrowed. "Whose's your backer?"
The Colombian picked up a copy of the
Shipping News Weekly from the chair on his left. The front page contained a large photograph of Gran Colombia's Minister of Industry, Sebastien de Soto.
"Yeah, those would be some deep pockets", the Swissman replied.
15 February 1908: Cartagena
"I was hoping to acquire a battleship command, Sir", Captain Frederico Juarez said in a not-quite-pleading tone to Vice-Admiral Castillo.
The old goat's lone eyeball gazed back at Juarez with a complete lack of empathy. "I'm sure you did, Captain", the Armada's senior personnel officer replied. "Every captain that plants his behind in that chair feels the same way. Unfortunately, there aren't enough battleships to go 'round, so it's my task to find you a suitable vocation in the interim."
Juarez nodded. "I understand", he said, recognizing that arguing with Castillo would be pointless, and probably counter-productive. "There must be numerous positions in which my recent experiences in the war can be put to good use, Sir."
"Fewer than you might think", Castillo growled. "The last thing I want to do is put you somewhere that isolates your knowledge and experience from the Armada as a whole. What we need is to have you spreading your knowledge across the widest range of personnel possible."
"Yes, Sir. Perhaps a flag captain's position would suffice?"
Castillo ignored the suggestion. "Here are your new orders. You will be attached to Vice-Admiral Calderon's staff to provide insight into new technologies being developed by his people. This is more a reflection of your report on Austrian fire control than your war experience, though that won't hurt - we have an incipient fire control program underway and it's felt that you may hasten its success considerably."
"That sounds like a long-term project, Sir", Juarez said, unable to hide the dismay in his voice.
"Yes, Captain, you'll be a landlubber for quite some time", Castillo agreed. "But look at it this way: once that fire control program is completed, we'll be testing it on one of our new capital ships. Obviously, those tests will work best if the ship's captain is familiar with the fire control program."
Juarez nodded solemnly, but in his head, a giddy little voice exclaimed Si!
18 February 1908: Cartagena
"Chief!", a booming voice exclaimed, "What in the hell is your sorry ass doing in these hallowed halls of learning?"
Chief Petty Officer Angel Armero looked to his left and snapped a salute in the direction of Captain Rafael Caycedo, commandant of the Gran Colombian Naval Academy. "I'm sorry to say, Sir, that this sorry ass has been assigned to your institution of learning."
"But I'd heard you'd filed your papers and were out", Caycedo replied, returning the salute.
"My retirement plans fell through, Sir", Armero explained. "The Bureau of Personnel hadn't processed my papers yet. They were happy to return them."
"Sorry to hear that, Chief", Caycedo said. "There was scuttlebutt about you having some sort of 'Get Rich Quick' scheme, but I never heard the same story from any two people."
Armero sighed. After a moment's deliberation, he said, "Sufficed to say, Sir, that the Dutch Navy were aware of my retirement plan, and had shelled the shit out of her long before my cousin's salvage company filed the necessary permits."
Caycedo shook his head. "Hawaii?"
"Yes, Sir."
"That's too bad. It would've been a hell of an exit for you", the commandant noted. "So, what's your new posting here?" The Chief handed over his papers, and Caycero scanned them. "Excellent - it'll do wonders for the cadets to spend some time learning from a fellow like yourself."
"So long as I'm not teaching retirement planning, Sir", Armero observed.
20 February 1909: Cayenne
It wasn't the first time Donald Morrison had woken up mid-morning with a raging hang-over and another person in the dingy hotel room. But it was the first time that other person had been a man.
"Tell me I didn't...", Morrison began.
"Oh, please", the other man said dismissively. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Good", Morrison grunted. Sitting up, he yawned, and then it occurred to him to ask, "So...why the hell are you in my room?"
"Just wanted to have a word while you were not entirely drunk", the other fellow replied. "This seemed like the best time."
"Well, you'd better have at it, because that's not going to be the case much longer", Morrison advised him.
"I won't keep you long, Donny. Just wanted to let you know that it's payback time."
"Hey?", Morrison asked, reaching for a bottle of gin on the end table.
"The word is out - somebody wants a piece of the Swiss, and they're paying handsomely for it."
"Didn't everybody just have a go at them?"
"Sure they did", the other man - Francois, was it? - agreed. "But, obviously, not everybody was satisfied with that. People in the know are telling me that a fellow who sinks a Swiss ship would be a made man."
"Don't care so much about money these days, Francois", Morrison replied, raising the bottle to his lips.
"It's Martin, Captain", the other man said caustically. "And, no, you don't care about money so long as you have enough for a bed and some booze. But you do care about revenge, don't you?"
Morrison glared at him, then set the bottle back down. "That I do", he said. "That I do."
Edit: Fixed the year.
*grumble* Always the punching bag...
Thought whoever it is picked a bad time, just when the entire fleet has dissapeared. Or wait...is this the Launceston job? Appears so due to the date.
Could also be a way to "promote" the NS merchants bugging out towards prospective buyers.
In any case, Launceton is another matter, and long gone.
Rocky, the date seems wrong? Shouldn't that be 1909?
QuoteIn any case, Launceton is another matter, and long gone.
Gone... but not forgotten. Launceton
will be back...
That is supposed to be 1909.
"We apologize for the inconvenience."
QuoteThought whoever it is picked a bad time, just when the entire fleet has dissapeared.
My reaction to that would be, "The NSN shouldn't abandon the Confederation in a time of need."
2 March 1909: Montego Bay
"Got a minute?", Donald Morrison asked the bricklayer.
The bricklayer smiled. "Of course, Captain", he replied, setting down his trowel. "How long you been in town?"
"Since yesterday", Morrison said. "This a secure location?"
The bricklayer looked about. "No, but I'm 'bout due for a break. We can go chat in the alley. Lemme just go and tell the foreman."
A minute later, the two were in the alley behind the half-erected townhouse, the bricklayer sipping lemonade from a bottle, Morrison keeping his hands in his pants pockets, away from his gin flask. "So what brings you back? Goin' to see the family?", the bricklayer asked in a low tone.
"Tomorrow. I gotta deal with this first", Morrison replied quietly. "I have a job in mind. Payback. I know how to do it, but I need some extra hands. Was wondering if you might be interested."
"I dunno, Captain", the bricklayer sighed. "I got a wife and a little one of my own to consider, and this ain't a bad job I got now."
Morrison replied with a number. "That's what the job is worth for me and my crew."
The bricklayer stared at him. "God a'mighty, Captain. That's a fair heap a' cash. Maybe I'd better have a listen after all."
Morrison rattled off the outlines of his plan. It didn't take long.
"Simple enough", the bricklayer replied. "Just need a few extra hands to round out your crew. I think I know some people."
"I'd appreciate that, Chief", Morrison said quietly.
Quote"entire fleet has dissapeared"
Quite impossible. A "fleet" cannot dissapear for very long. It needs fuel, food, and water for a prolonged voyage. There shouldn't be anyplace that is secure enough to hide the entire Swiss Navy from civilian eyes, nor foreigners. Also a lot of the Swiss Fleet was damaged in the war. Several of the more important ships should still be in drydock.
I'd figure the longer ranged destroyers could be out for three weeks, the larger ships maybe a few months on their own supplies. The raider style cruisers maybe able to go for six months without food or water resupply, but their coal supplies would run low faster.
(Someone is the Navy might be able to tell us how long a ship can go before it needs to be resupplied as standard practise, and in emergencies...not counting any of the nuclear ships.)
I imagine at some point, the mods will inform one or more players that their ships, airships, spies, or other folks have found out where the NSN is hanging out.
I think at sea, the most likely source would be ships and airships... unless the whole NSN fleet now belongs to Davy Jones. :)
That would be some protest...along the lines of the High Seas Fleet at Scapa Flow in 1919 rather than the mutiny. That doesn't make sense logically either.
So how long before the rest of the world start to notice the expanding Gran Columbia? I'd figure 1909 with the opening of the two other canals, we might start to notice more things.
I've little doubt that GC's more immediate neighbours have already noticed that.
We are aware, and are planning accordingly.
That sounds ominous...this is supposed to be a happy thread!
Does that mean we shouldn't 'bicker and argue about who killed who', or does that mean 'we are one big happy fleet'?
We shouldn't bicker and argue about who killed who...or, I suppose, who's planning to kill who. Or who's planning to build up a gambling industry. Or who's trying to horn in on whose merchant ship market share.
Oh, never mind...
No "Ominous Hummmm" here, We are friends to almost all, except 'you-know-who'. >:(
6 March 1908: Cromwell
The bricklayer recited a short list, and the cab driver said, "Mmm. Yeah, I can get those for you. Gimme about a week." Not one for these newfangled automobiles, the cab driver directed his horse to turn down Culloden Street with a gentle cluck .
"What'll it cost?", the bricklayer asked.
The cab driver shrugged. "Under the circumstances, we'll call it a loan."
"Appreciate the gesture, but are y'sure of that?"
"Yeah. You can cut me in for a modest share of the proceeds afterward, if you're feeling generous", the cab driver replied.
"Suits me", the bricklayer affirmed. "You can drop me off here. I've got a friend to see nearby."
The cab driver called out, "Hee-yah", and the horse edged over to side of the road and stopped. "That'll be twenty cents."
The bricklayer leaned forward and handed him a quarter. "Keep the change, sergeant."
Speaking of "Ominous Hummmm", where is Swamphen? I'd almost expect Brandenburg to be in the market for warships.
This is sounding more and more like a dead guy about to do somthing nasty lol.
17 March 1908: Havana
The first mate of the Weyland-Yutani* freighter SS Costaguana said, "We're not going to Paqo Pago. We're going up through the New Beleriand Canal and straight over to the Home Island."
"I understand that", Donald Morrison replied. "We're hoping we can find a ride from the Home Island down to Pago Pago. Must be a few tramps working that route."
"Probably right about that", the mate agreed. "No berths available out of San Miguelito or Esmeraldas?"
"Nothing available, according to the company rep", Morrison said. "He figured this would work out to be the fastest way to Pago, despite the detour."
"Doesn't sound like your rep knows his business", the mate commented.
"I think he's more concerned with getting us there cheap than getting us there quick", Morrison conceded.
The mate grunted. "That's us, alright. This isn't exactly the Golden Age of Swiss commerce. Any of you guys want to work the trip over? We're short two hands."
Morrison shook his head, but the bricklayer said, "Sure, why not? Could use the extra coin."
"Any experience?", the mate asked.
"Stoked some coal in my youth", the bricklayer confirmed.
"Alright, so your passage'll be free, in exchange for regular shifts", the mate said.
"F**k that", the bricklayer replied indignantly. "Charge the company for my passage, and pay me for my work." Morrison and the other three laughed.
Even the mate cracked a bit of a grin. "Fair enough. The rest of you want in on this?"
"Nah", Morrison confirmed. "I don't know the first thing about running a ship. I'm only on them for the ride."
"Suit yourself", the mate said. "We got nine berths aft, I'll get one of the men to show you there. Take your pick - no other passengers signed up yet."
"When do we leave?"
"Should have all the molasses aboard by fourteen hundred hours. I expect we'll be casting off soon after."
*C'mon, you know Foxy would transplant this corporation to NS.
Quote from: Tanthalas on December 04, 2007, 09:07:15 PM
This is sounding more and more like a dead guy about to do somthing nasty lol.
Or someone rounding up the old gang for one more ride.
21 March 1908: The Eastern Pacific
Now a few dozen miles west of the Americas, the SS Costaguana steamed for home at the conservative speed of ten knots. The sun was a red ball poised to plunge into the ocean before them, the heat of day giving way - at last - to cooler temperatures that would allow comfortable sleep.
Below decks, the bricklayer helped stoke the ship's boilers, just as he'd done thirty years ago aboard an Island Commonwealth Navy armored frigate. Age prevented him from shovelling coal with the same speed as the younger Hawaiian working with him, but he'd settled into a measured pace that he could sustain for long periods. The ship's engineering officer checked on them from time to time, shout a few words at them over the racket of the triple expansion engines, but was generally pre-occupied with keeping the machinery in working order.
A few decks above, Donald Morrison and his remaining three colleagues - a clerk, a teacher, and a prospector - dined alone on pork, potatoes, and corn, prepared by the ship's Taiwanese cook and served by the ship's Siamese steward. Conversation was minimal; their shared past history - the most obvious topic for table-talk - was not to be discussed, and they did not want to blow their cover as new employees of the Pago Pago Port Authority by saying anything a passing crewman might overhear and know to be false.
"I went by the wireless office this afternoon to see if there was any interesting news in the air", the clerk remarked.
"Was there?", Morrison asked, his right hand twisting left and right as if testing a doorknob.
The clerk shook his head. "Nothing. He did tell me he'd listen later tonight for a bit. Apparently the reception is better at night."
"Oh. Did he say when? I might join you."
"Ten o'clock, when his shift ends", the clerk replied, managing to avoid the phrase twenty-two hundred hours, sir. "His assistant relieves him at that time."
A few minutes passed in silence, and then Morrison inquired, "How was your run?"
"Good", the teacher replied. "Went around the outside of the deck a few times. Did some stretches by that gun at the back of the ship. They've used it against a pirate, you know."
"I know", Morrison said. "They also have some guns in a locker on the bridge, just in case they're boarded by pirates."
"Hope they know where the keys are", the clerk joked.
"The captain and both mates have keys, so there's always one close by in case of emergency", Morrison assured him.
"That's re-assuring", the prospector murmured. "Of course, what're the odds of pirates getting aboard the ship in the first place?"
Quote from: The Rock Doctor on December 06, 2007, 07:07:24 AM"That's re-assuring", the prospector murmured. "Of course, what're the odds of pirates getting aboard the ship in the first place?
Famous last words of a fool... huh?
Prospectors spend a lot of time by themselves. Some get a little...strange with time.
I'm sure this fellow has nothing to worry about.
I guess I need to wrap this up soon...
23 March 1908: The Eastern Pacific
For several minutes after surreptiously checking his watch, the bricklayer continued the work of stoking the Costaguana's boilers. Finally, judging the time to be not earlier than 00:15, he called out, "Hey, Sid!" just loud enough to get the assistant engineer's attention.
Sid, the assistant engineer, held up a finger, asking for a moment to finish looking over some gauges. He then came over and asked, "What?", over the din of the engines.
"Feeling quesy", the bricklayer replied. "Can I get off early?"
"It's only another two hours. You'll have to cope", Sid answered. "Can you do that?"
The bricklayer made like he was thinking about it, then said, "Yeah - I s'pose."
"Alright, then", Sid said, and he turned back towards the instruments. A moment later, the bricklayer's shovel intersected the side of his head.
The other stoker, the Hawaiian, caught the motion from the corner of his eye and he paused to look over. The sight of the assistant engineer's body collapsing onto the deck was a distraction in the bricklayer's favor. Three quick steps brought him over to the Hawaiian, whom he jabbed hard in the stomach before laying him out with a blow to the jaw. Satisfied that both men were unconscious, the bricklayer, a former chief petty officer aboard the ICS Defiance, set down the shovel and went about securing the engine room.
***
The clerk was relieved to find the entrance to the wireless room unlocked and, indeed, ajar. He was halfway through the bulkhead before the assistant wireless operator noticed him and startled.
"Sorry", the clerk muttered sheepishly. "Was just curious if you've picked up anything from Cromwell. There was a big rugby game supposed to happen, and the station there was supposed to be transmitting the result."
"Oh", the Swissman replied. "Ah, no, I haven't heard anything about it"
"That's too bad", the clerk said, "Thanks anyway." He pivoted towards the bulkhead, then back. The wireless operator was also turning away, and was in no position to stop the lead-weighted sap in the clerk's left hand, except as the clerk had intended: with his head. The blow was not as quiet as the clerk had hoped, but he managed to keep the Swissman from falling out of his seat and making a louder sound.
Thirty seconds with a pair of pliers was sufficient for the clerk, a former corporal in the Imperial Commonwealth Marines, to neutralize the wireless shack.
***
Morrison, the prospector, and the teacher slunk past the wireless shack, moving slowly and carefully, their bare feet making only the slightest whisper on the steel deck. The prospector was first to enter the bridge, and turned towards the navigator's station; Morrison came in close behind him, aiming a snub-nosed revolver at the second mate as soon as the officer came into view.
"What the-", the second mate began.
"Quiet. Any noises or alarms and I'll shoot you", Morrison growled. "Stand up carefully and put your hands on your heads." Behind him, the teacher gently closed the hatch to the bridge. "You two", he said to the navigator and helmsman, "Get over there and lie down on your stomachs. Keep your hands on your heads." He trained the pistol on them, then said to the second mate, "Keep one hand on your head and use the other to hold out your keys. Have the key for the small arms locker between your thumb and forefinger as you do so."
The second mate obeyed, the keys jingling softly. The prospector stepped over to take them, taking care to avoid coming between the young officer and Morrison. The arms locker was clearly marked as such, and the prospector opened it without difficulty.
"Good. Go join your colleagues on the deck", Morrison ordered the mate. "Smithy, secure these three. Hanson - report."
"Six pistols, four rifles, two maxim guns, and a carton of hand grenades, Sir", the prospector responded, as the teacher produced several short lengths of cord from his pcokets.
"Grenades?", Morrison echoed.
"It's a Swiss ship, Sir", Hanson explained.
Weyland-Yutani...Im not familiar with Alien or I would have caught that, gotta say after doing research that looks just perfect!
Quote"Grenades?", Morrison echoed.
"It's a Swiss ship, Sir", Hanson explained.
That reminded me of the beginning of
Serenity... :)
Huh...that hadn't occurred to me, but I see what you mean.
Knew it Knew it Knew it... these guys wouldnt happen to know mr. Mars would they
23 March 1908: The Eastern Pacific
Having established that the bricklayer - James Farnsworth, Chief Petty Officer, ICN (Retired) - was in control of the engine room, it was time to secure the remainder of the ship. The teacher - Abraham Smith, Lieutentant, IC Marines (Retired) - was left to hold the bridge, while Morrison, Sergeant Paul Hanson, and Corporal Stephen Shaver, all also retired IC marines, headed down to round up the remaining sixteen crewmen not yet accounted for.
They took the captain, then the first mate, so as to secure the other keys to the small arms locker. Both men were sleeping, so it was a simple matter for Shaver to creep in and club each of them with his sap. Their silence now assured, each was hogtied and then gagged with their own socks. The chief engineer, the purser, the cook, and the ship's doctor all followed in turn, as each had individual cabins.
The remaining ten men shared a common berthing area, so Morrison deemed it too risky to attempt to subdue each man in turn. Hanson slipped inside, spent a few moments gently running his arm along the wall, and found the switch for the electic lighting. They then withdrew from the room, closing the hatch most of the way behind them, and stepped back into the purser's cabin. Shaver flicked the light on, and the three squinted until their eyes adjusted.
Letting the glow spill into the corridor, they stepped back to the berthing area, and Hanson watched as Morrison held up five fingers, then lowered each at one second intervals. Morrison flung the hatch open, and Hanson went in, finding the lighting switch again in a moment. As the room was suddenly illuminated, several of the crewmen roused out of their slumber, and Morrison shouted, "DO NOT MOVE!", four times, following this with two gunshots into a vacant lower bunk.
"...the fuck?", one of the Swiss exclaimed.
"Quiet!", Morrison snapped. "Remain where you are - we are armed and in control of the ship. Any indication of trouble from any of you, and you'll be shot. Understand?"
After a few seconds' pause, one of the Swiss replied, "We understand."
Several minutes later, ten confused, angry, but obedient Swiss crewmen, wearing only their underwear, were crowded into the ship's storeroom and locked inside. The first mate, purser, chief engineer, cook, and doctor, all trussed up in their bunks, were locked into their cabins. "Shaver - advise Smithy that we're secure. Hanson and I are going to have a word with the captain."
The captain was semi-conscious by the time they returned, and appeared angry and lucid by the time Morrison had finished rifling through the man's cabin and adjacent office. Removing the gag elicited a string of curses ending with "Pirate!"
"Are you done?", Morrison asked.
"No, I'm not!", the captain snapped. "Take whatever you're after, and get the fuck off my ship!"
"I have your master's certification, the ship's log, and her manifest", Morrison replied. "That's all I need."
"You don't want to steal our molasses or iron ore pellets?", the captain asked sardonically.
"I intend to sink this ship, not steal from it", Morrison clarified.
"What?", the captain exclaimed. "Why?"
"Payback", Morrison growled. Leaning in towards the captain, he explained, "You people preach about liberty, rights, and free enterprise, but then you gleefully jump on any scheme to smash and loot others."
"Damn it, the war ended months ago", the captain protested.
"I'm not talking about that war", Morrison answered. "I'm talking about 1904. Remember that? The constabulary arrests a few migrants agitating for socialism, and suddenly the Eastern Kingdom is screaming about genocide? That was nothing but an excuse for them to invade and loot us, and you fuckers were more than happy to get in on the action!"
"That's ridiculous!", the captain snarled.
"Is it? It wasn't just Chinese we were fighting in the streets of Montego Bay. They weren't Chinese commandos attacking the Admiralty Building in Cromwell. It sure as hell wasn't Chinese businessmen the Colombians shipped out afterward. The worst kept secret in Gran Colombia is your involvement in the attack on the Island Commonwealth."
"You ever think the Colombians did it?", the captain exclaimed.
Morrison shook his head. "The Colombians are a lot of things, but blatantly stupid isn't one of them - they were already committed to fighting the Anahuac, and maybe the French too. No, there's no doubt at all that you Swiss were just as responsible as the Easterners."
"My government, maybe - but not me!", the captain declared. "I had nothing to do with it!"
Morrison frowned. "My wife and sons had nothing to do with it either. Didn't do them any good." He stepped back and brought his revolver up at the captain's forehead.
"Don't!", the Swissman pleaded, but Morrison did.
and people call the swiss Pirates...
Quote from: Tanthalas on December 07, 2007, 12:22:01 PM
and people call the swiss Pirates...
Of course, as the swiss are pirates.
That other might pratice it as well do not change THAT fact.
23 March 1908: The Eastern Pacific
"We're clear - start frickin' rowing!", Donald Morrison exclaimed, the lines from the davits dangling limply just above the lifeboat.
With her lights extinguished, and illuminated only by starlight, the five men could not see that the SS Costaguana was sinking. They could, however, hear the rush of air being displaced from the flooding hull; James Farnsworth had opened up two the ship's seacocks and smashed the fittings before they'd scrambled to put the lifeboat in the water.
"I almost feel sorry for them", Lieutenant Smith remarked between strokes.
"The ones we shot? Or the ones we didn't?", Farnsworth asked.
"The men in the storeroom and the engine room. It won't be quick for them", Smith replied.
Farnsworth shrugged. "Think of all our mates aboard Defiance, Warrior, Stormhawk, Dragon, Gryphon, Ister, Orontes..."
"...Jade...", Hanson added.
"...Her too. How many of our mates didn't get a chance to abandon their ships before that cowardly attack? They didn't get it easy. No, don't trouble yourself", the old CPO advised.
They kept rowing, wanting to be well clear of the freighter when she finally went down. The process took about thirty-five minutes, as the ship gradually settled by the stern and then suddenly plunged under the waves, leaving an area of air bubbles and debris where she'd been.
"Remember our story", Morrison said. "A mystery ship came up and attacked in the night. The captain put us over the side in a lifeboat before they fought back with their gun. We drifted away from them and don't what happened after that. Now we just wait to be rescued."
"It's a busy shipping lane", Farnsworth noted. "Shouldn't take long."
Swiss scapegoats?
How do you mean?
In relation to the Swiss being pirates. While they've touted their history, I'm wondering if they have in fact committed an act of piracy outside of military actions.
Curious as to who will end up getting blamed for this little incident. Wonder how far East into the Eastern Pacific they got.
No doubt in my mind that the ex-Island Commonwealth guys have done exactly that.
Figure the ship's maybe five-six hundred miles west of the Americas at this point...
Even the Indian Action is a grey area, as except for a small (less than 5%) amount of missing gold (which cannot be proven as missing) the rest of the cargo was left untouched and returned after inspection.
2 April 1909: Cartagena
"I was going over your budget estimates for the year and happened upon something that puzzled me", the visiting official from Finance remarked.
This immediately raised alarm bells in Admiral de Irujo's mind. A confused bureaucrat was a dangerous, unpredictable creature - especially if he had control of the purse strings. "What would that be?", de Irujo was quick to ask.
"It's this armored cruiser you plan to start in July", the bureaucrat replied. "Shouldn't it be tagged as a battleship?"
"Er, no - it's a cruiser", de Irujo affirmed.
"But it's almost as expensive as a battleship", the bureaucrat observed.
"You'll note that our earlier armored cruisers were almost as expensive as the battleships of the time."
That didn't help the bureaucrat at all. "But it's more expensive than those battleships."
"Warships grow", de Irujo said. "Look how much protected cruisers and torpedo boats have grown over the past decade."
"Well...yes, okay", the bureaucrat conceded. "But you realize we can't afford to replace all of your battleships and armored cruisers with ships twice as expensive."
"I do", de Irujo agreed. "I expect we'll be down to no more than ten capital ships in a few years."
"So I have to ask - why build an armored cruiser when you could build another battleship."
"Would you add the funds necessary for it?", de Irujo queried. The bureaucrat smiled non-commitally. "Regardless, Luchador is intended to serve us in different capacities. She has the speed to run down armored cruisers, and the armament and protection to stand in the line of battle."
"So she's not an armored cruiser, then - more of a battleship/cruiser, or cruiser/battleship."
"Or battlecruiser, or fast battleship. Believe me, we've had the debates internally. We settled upon armored cruiser out of agreement on her intended functions as those of past armored cruisers. We really didn't want to add a new, intermediate classification and develop a nomenclature scheme for it", de Irujo replied. He then added, "That kind of thing costs money, you know."
"Yes, I'm sure that it does", the bureaucrat agreed.
"So does that help?"
"Certainly."
"So I don't have to worry about the funding being frozen?"
The bureaucrat chuckled. "Not at all. I was just curious, Admiral, and happened to be in the neighbourhood."
"I'm glad to hear that", de Irujo said. "Thanks for stopping by."
8 April 1909: The Eastern Pacific
The early morning sun began its slow ascent into a cloudless sky, promising another day of inescapable burning heat.
There were no ships to be seen on the distant blue waters, no masts or columns of smoke on the horizon.
In the lifeboat, sprawled amidst the sunburned corpses of his four comrades in arms, retired chief petty officer James Farnsworth managed to open his parched lips and croak, "Shit."
Hmm...trade seems to be down a bit.
Karma...
.....it's a bitch.
There must be a motivational poster out there with precisely that caption...
He is gona live we all know you cank kill MASTA CHIFE
Might their plan backfire? Because IF they are picked up they probably will be too delirious to speak anything but the truth.
Quote from: The Rock Doctor on December 07, 2007, 06:02:42 PM
In the lifeboat, sprawled amidst the sunburned corpses of his four comrades in arms, retired chief petty officer James Farnsworth managed to open his parched lips and croak, "Shit."
I don't think "they" will be saved as it appears that everyone but Farnsworth is dead.
Quote from: Sachmle on December 09, 2007, 03:21:15 PM
Quote from: The Rock Doctor on December 07, 2007, 06:02:42 PM
In the lifeboat, sprawled amidst the sunburned corpses of his four comrades in arms, retired chief petty officer James Farnsworth managed to open his parched lips and croak, "Shit."
I don't think "they" will be saved as it appears that everyone but Farnsworth is dead.
thats how I read it to but I still say you cant kill Master Chief come on he takes on Alien hordes single handedly...
You can kill Master Chief... but he keeps coming back to kill some more. :D
I figure he's dead; I just don't want to post it and make Tanthalus cry...
18 May 1909: La Prensa NacionalQuoteThe city of Cayenne saw history made today as sod was turned to begin construction of Le Grande, the city's first casino/hotel resort.
Local businessman Yves Richer is the project's owner, lauded the project as a key to the city's future prosperity. "Cayenne's days as a sleepy port are coming to an end. With construction of Le Grande, I will transform Cayenne into boisterous, lively city - the playground of the Caribbean."
Described as a "Celebration of Glorious French culture", the hotel will feature four hundred guest rooms in a towering twelve-floor edifice, while the adjacent casino will include over thirty gaming tables, private gaming rooms, and an area of Liberty Bells, the mechanical games recently invented in California. Guests will be able to dine in a traditional French restaurant, or partake in more casual fare at a brasserie. M. Richer confirmed that French artists were being commissioned to provide paintings and sculptures for the facility's decor.
The immediate impact of Le Grande was evident in the surrounding area. Once a dilapitated warehouse district between the main ferry terminal and the city centre, many of the elderly buildings are in various stages of demolition or renovation as other entrepeneurs look to develop similar casinos or, alternately, tourist-oriented businesses seeking to benefit from the casino's clientale.
Le Grande is scheduled to open in late 1911.
25 May 1909: La Prensa NactionalQuotePresident Rey Alizandro today confirmed the appointment of Senor Ramon Espejo as ambassador to the Naciones Unidas de Suramerica.
Sr. Espejo is a distinguished entrepenuer, having served as chairman of Espejo Coal Mining Incorporated for fourteen years before his retirement in 1907. Under his tenure, the corporation saw net profits increase by 143%, and a jump in market share from 13% to 22%. He called the appointment, "A new and refreshing challenge for me and my family; retirement can be a little too quiet at times, so I look forward to new duties with our friends the Naciones Unidas de Suramerica."
President Alizandro wished Sr. Espejo well in his new assignment and indicated that a reciprocal appointment by the NUS was expected shortly. The president noted that the appointment of an ambassador had been in the works for close to a year, but that the selection process had moved at a deliberate pace to ensure the proper candidate was chosen.
Some time in the first half of 1909: Cartagena
"Who's this?", PRIMROSE asked, as the small team assembled in an interior office of a building owned by the Ministry of Miscellaneous Affairs.
The team leader, designated THORNLEY, replied, "This is GOOSENECK. We're borrowing him from Finance."
The other eight members of the team, including PRIMROSE, looked around the table at each other for a few moments of befuddled silence. Finally, MASCARA asked, "Are we...being audited?"
"Not until the end of the fiscal year", THORNLEY answered. "No, GOOSENECK is going to help us track down the Swiss fleet."
The remainder of the team looked skeptical; in fact, PRIMROSE had to stifle a laugh. "And how is an auditor going to do that?", he inquired.
THORNLEY glared at him. "GOOSENECK is an accountant, not an auditor. Specifically, he's a forensic accountant, from the Department of Finance's Fraud Investigations Branch."
"We're looking for a secret naval base hidden somewhere in the vast Pacific Ocean", MASCARA noted. "How does a penny-pincher - no offence - contribute to that?"
"May I?", GOOSENECK quietly asked THORNLEY. The team leader nodded. "Thank you. Senora, I recognize that there is a significant role to be played by whatever traditional cloak-and-dagger means the rest of you are employed in. That is not my discipline; I go through fiscal records, and look for anomalies. Are certain line-items receiving atypical amounts of funding? Is there an abnormal amount of money being spent in a certain area? Unless the Swiss have been exceptionally cautious, there is likely to be a money trail."
"We don't have access to Swiss fiscal records", MASCARA noted. Then she added, "Or do we?"
"You are not authorized to know the answer to that question", THORNLEY answered.
"Ah", MASCARA said. "Never mind."
PRIMROSE asked, "Sounds good in theory - but what makes you think you'll find anything?"
GOOSENECK adjusted his spectacles and smiled awkwardly. "Naval bases can sometimes be secret, Senor - but they are never free."
Nice one. Bravo.
Now the main Q is.
"is there a secret NS base? And do the Japanese know it?"
The Colombians obviously think there's a secret base. Whether they're right is another matter entirely.
Interesting. Unfortunately for the poor accountant the Swiss Financial records are a mess, sometimes even I can't make heads or tails of them! The money trail should be there somewhere, only buried quite a few years back. However the finishing of the still secret base at Truk, might send them of into the wrong track, plus quite a few trails branching of into Russia, France, New Zion...
The Japanese most probably don't know. They might be able to deduce it, but very few in NS know, and most of the conspirators don't know about it.
QuoteUnfortunately for the poor accountant the Swiss Financial records are a mess, sometimes even I can't make heads or tails of them!
I'll agree with that part, at least, and let GOOSENECK turn up whatever he will.
3 June 1909: Invercargill, Brandenburgia
"Herr Becher?", asked the man going by the name of Carl Pieck. He was ethnically German - it just happened that he was from German-influenced Coquimbo.
"Ja", Becher replied, peering at the stranger on his doorstep with curiousity. "What do you want?"
"My name is Carl Pieck, and I'm with Hamiltonbergtelegrafwerks*. We're doing some research on the performance of current-model wireless equipment, so that we may improve our products", Pieck said. "I understand you're a wireless operator on one of the whaling ships operating out of Invercargill - I was hoping you'd have ten minutes to spare."
"Ja, okay", Becher said indifferently.
"Excellent", Pieck replied with enthusiasm. "I have a brief list of questions for you."
"Mmm hmm", Becher murmured.
"First: What watch did you serve?"
"Mostly third watch - that would be at night."
"Ah, thank you. And what model were you using?"
Becher said, "1907-A."
"How far from sea level is the installation, and how far does the aerial extend?"
Becher frowned and gave an estimate of each.
"Can you tell me where abouts your vessel was operating during this past season?"
"Down around the Balleny Islands for the most part, but we steamed over towards Scott Island once."
"Did you monitor traffic continuously, or intermittently?"
"Continuously, except where maintenance prevented it. You don't want to miss a distress call because the set is turned off."
"No, of course", Pieck agreed. "During daylight, how far away could you hear other ships?"
"Typically up to one hundred miles reliably", Becher said. "I did get occasional strong signals from up to one hundred seventy miles once in a while."
"And at night?"
"Remember there's not much night at those latitudes during the whaling season", Becher noted. "But the range could be triple the normal daylight range."
"Mmm", Bieck muttered, making notes. "Did you ever pick any really strange traffic that seemed very far away? Like Firanji stations or...Swiss warships?"
*German-speaking players are welcome to suggest proper grammer for this.
30 June 1909: A Port in Gran Colombia
The tramp freighter's refit had been completed several weeks ago, and trials had been run in the form of a few short hauls to and from Coquimbo. All had been found to be satisfactory - the new equipment and also the new crew. It was about time for IX-1 to begin its new job in earnest.
Capitan de Corbeta (Censored) examined his new orders. Looking for Swiss ships, he thought. Why're we bothering with that? Shouldn't we be spying on the French or Confederates or the like?
Still, orders were orders, and there was no changing what he was reading on the paper. "Mr. (Censored): have the purser come meet with me, please."
"Aye, Sir", the seaman replied, scurrying belowdecks.
The purser appeared soon after. "Sir?"
"We have a leisurely cruise to southern Firanj ahead of us, with some stops in Southern Brandenburg along the way. Kindly ensure we have the appropriate clothing to issue to the crew."
Curiouser and Curiouser...
Considering the time of year I would Recomend against Tropical dress
Strange what they are looking for, and especially where they are looking for it. Nothing much in the South Pacific.
Quote from: Desertfox on December 11, 2007, 09:11:51 PM
Strange what they are looking for, and especially where they are looking for it. Nothing much in the South Pacific.
*points at map*
Atolls.
Hundreds of 'em.
Nice place to get lost if you don't want to be found.
But they are looking South of Australia! And all the atolls on the way from GC to DKB to Firanj are either Maori, French, Columbian, or German. All the Swiss ones are farther north.
First check the inlets and any fjords (if any) then start looking for islands. And just because the other own the islands doesn't mean that they keep all that good a tabs on them. Plus part of this probably comes in reaction to equally confusing news from Swiss sources that do not always make sense...even to their own authors. ;D
Quote from: Desertfox on December 11, 2007, 09:40:46 PM
But they are looking South of Australia! And all the atolls on the way from GC to DKB to Firanj are either Maori, French, Columbian, or German. All the Swiss ones are farther north.
Atolls are easily lost in the vastness of the ocean... even to their owners.
I'm willing to bet you that from 1946 until they ceased to be US territory, our all-seeing, all-knowing ::) government couldn't tell you exactly what was going on at one out of any 8 of those atolls on any given day (save Bikini and Kwajalein).
No, the Swiss could have easily threw up a base on at some small, unnoticed atoll without even the owners knowing. I mean, Greenpeace LOVES to drop by that area to check for whales getting nuked, and they snuck up on the French as late as the 1970's. It would be a lot easier in 1908, what with the lack of reliable long-range commo, radar, and patrol aircraft.
The great problem with hideing a fleet is that they have to eat... that translates to someone is feading them.
The problem for the Columbians is that at the moment the Swiss fleet isn't hiding at all! It just looks that way since no one expects the fleet to be where it actually is.
Has anyone actually been to New Switzerland since the war ended? Just because the news said the Swiss Fleet disappeared doesn't mean they actually did. Or maybe the Swiss Fleet did disappear, just to become someone else's fleet.
This made sense when I first started writing, but know I've confused myself. ???
It is that sort of day...confusion is the Swiss speciality it seems. Their own and others.
The lack of news from the Swiss and Japanese is the main problem at this stage. Rumors suggest the Swiss Fleet returned home by or during January of 1909. There has been no In Character evidence of this as of yet.
Trade relations with the likes of Rohan should have returned to normal by January 1909 since the lifting of restrictions towards the various combatants was removed before the Canal opened. Since the Swiss are still shareholds of the New Beleriand Canal (despite efforts to get them to sell out), they would have access to that canal.
The last thing I saw publically about the NSN's status was:
QuoteThe High Seas Fleet dissapeares during the night.
Now, if...
Quotethe Swiss fleet isn't hiding at all
...then kindly advise which port it's at, and a naval attache will be sent to verify this for GC's satisfaction. Then I can save a few cents by cancelling the IX-1 mission.
The disappearance of the Swiss fleet can be connected to some scams by the admirals, who are funneling Navy money to their private account.
The Swiss ships are also in a state of disrepair, as they try to operate a pretty much exhausted navy without a proper fleet base.