Voltus_Ventus

Point of Departure: World War II

Subpref-12, 17 clicks off Halifax

"Captain," a tinny voice whispered through the intercom, "Unidentified sonar signatures detected, please advise." The Captain held down the intercom button.

"Distance and bearing?"

"Multiples, most stationary," from beyond the intercom the captain heard the flicking of nobs, "bearing... 289 degrees, distance 3000 meters." The captain frowned, that was too close for comfort; he did some quick mental maths and figured the unidentified signatures were 14 clicks off of Halifax.

"Keep me posted," he replied, taking his finger off the intercom button and turning to face the cramped interior of his U-Boat, picking up a receiver, he rang for the engine room, "decrease to 5 knots and activate silent running," he felt the vessel slow down.

Captain Henry Monk and his crew were engaging in solitary exercises in the north sea, most of the crew were new and were rotated from the auxiliary naval forces; they were in no position to engage an enemy ship, let alone multiple. Monk dropped the receiver into it's holder and motioned for the pilots attention.

"Up bubble 5 degrees, 1 meter per second to periscope depth." he was being cautious around the unknown fleet, taking measures to decrease his vessel's sonar signature by ascending slowly and turing on the silent running engines. Slowly the U-Boat rose up and the ship released a small groan of relief as the pressure of tons of water above decreased; upon reaching periscope depth monk pulled down the viewer and his frown deepened. A moderate fleet of ships bobbed on the ocean's surface, the distance they were from Halifax unnerved him, they seemed to be flying Canadian colors so he should have not felt all too worried but he couldn't help himself. Monk pushed the intercom button and spoke, "Send a message to naval command."

From: Cpt. Henry Monk, Subpref-12 "The New Brunswick Trawler"
To: Naval Command, Halifax

Canadian fleet spotted 14 clicks off of Halifax. Appearing to be non-hostile. Please Advise.

Office of Prime Minister Lawrence J. Young, St. Johns

'So the Canadians want to play like that?' he thought to himself, reading the urgent naval communiqué, he thought they had come for peace but it seemed like they were just as ready to stab them in the back, 'We'll play that game.'

From: Prime Minister Lawrence J. Young, St. Johns
To: Naval Command, Halifax

Naval Command. Post 5 packs to the mouth of The Gulf of Saint Lawrence. Your orders are to stop any Canadian Naval vessels from crossing over to the Montrealan coast. Avoid lethal force.

Aether: Legend of the Crimson Dusicyon - Now Recruiting Crewmates!

@Voltus_Ventus
Let me know when you start putting your plan into action, as I'll have to try and adjust my actions on the bride to coordinate with that.

EDIT: @Vash
While I'm still pondering over what I'll be posting, could you give me some descriptors of the bridge, and what I'll be dealing with up there with Grissom?

@Penultimate_Pi

I'll be working on it soon, just got back home from a long vacation and I'm sore from hefting all the 70Ibs bags around.

Nightfall (Reboot)

I'm happy to do this.

Colonial Twilight

I'll keep an eye out on this.

*subs*

Aether: Legend of the Crimson Dusicyon - Now Recruiting Crewmates!

I might'nt be able to post the coming few days, depending on my Internet of course, though I still intend to post about the ship being hit and going down.

Point of Departure: World War II

@mrambo90 How do you think the whole Canada/Newfoundland thing will pan out?

Aether: Legend of the Crimson Dusicyon - Now Recruiting Crewmates!

Hey, sky team, do you want me to edit my post so something more catastrophic happens? Just to get the action going? The ship's been hit a couple times. Maybe something was damaged? Do you want to plot something in PMs? I know support specialist characters are a bit tougher to play in some situations and I don't want to see anyone get stuck.

@DemonTongue

I could work on a post where the engine room has been hit, it could also give me the opportunity to get down to the city and loot Blackbeard's ship for parts.

The Sandy Rose Saloon

Well, I'm walking back to my workshop, if anyone wants to interact then might as well.

Point of Departure: World War II

Michelson, tissue in nose, sat slumped in a chair in the middle of the field where once was a retreating army of Ontarian troops. 'Where the hell did they all go?' he thought to himself, looking down at the fistful of dogtags he had picked up, rubbing his thumb over the maple leaf of Ontario. Vern turned the dog tag over, Pvt. James Harlington it read, he had not heard the name before but he mourned for Harlington, the man who was there one second and gone the next. 

Vern picked out Jame's dog tag and stuffed it in his pocket, discarding the rest respectfully in a pile to his left. Upon getting up and turning around, he saw that his fellow Brigadier General, Craig Patton, was marching over the field holding gauss to his bloody nose.

"What the f*** just happened you Ann-" 

"Annoying Bastard, I know," interrupted Vern as he buttoned up his black leather trenchcoat, he gave the field one final look before settling his eyes on his friendly rival. Patton was a fairly young man as far as brigadier generals went, him and Vern both; he had messy blonde locks and a tall wiery frame, his eyes set with two Amber eyes. Vern on the other hand was a head shorter then Patton and had a thickly set body, a head of fiery red hair atop his dome. "But as to what just happened, I haven't got a clue."

Patton shifted uncomfortably on his foot and looked around, picking up a helmet and chucking it at Michelson's feet, "Don't tell me you don't have a f***ing clue!" he barked, "You're the smart one, the one I rely on to give me an answer when a bunch of F***ing soldiers disappear before my eyes!" he was seething now and all Michelson could do was give him a level look with his watery blue eyes. He put some thought into it, of course he did, it wasn't like he was going to disregard the entire event; Vern stooped over and picked up the helmet, inside was a tuft of hair that had caught on a strap, it flickered, coming into and out of existence randomly before fizzling away. 

"I don't have an answer for you Patton but what I do have are a bunch of clues." upon finishing, he heard a yell from the distance and saw a message runner coming at them, waving a yellow telegram card at Michelson. The boy approached and handed over the message before giving a salute and running back to the trench. Vern turned the card around in his hands, a habit he had developed long ago after forgetting to check a lottery card and missing out on a £1000; he furrowed his brows, the reply he got from the republic was not what he had expected, as close allies he would usually get a straight answer but for some reason it seemed that they didn't trust Newfoundland anymore. This was above and beyond what Michelson was allowed to handle, so he simply forwarded the Ontarian reply to St. John's.

Priminister Lawrence J. Young stood in a dark room, lit by only a few lamps hanging over a conference table, around him were his trusted advisors, young, quick individuals that he much prefered over stuffy old politions. He was analyzing the reports he was getting from the field and was quite perplexed, 'an entire Ontarian Division and an Entire Franco-Montrealan armor division simply vanishing?' he thought to himself and these were briefs sent to him by Michelson and Patton, two people he trusted to not mess with him like this. He slipped his fingers through his grey hair and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"I'm getting too old for this." he grumbled, envoking a mirthless chuckle from the man by his side. Suddenly a message boy burst through the door panting, it seemed as if he hadn't had a break all day.

"Here. Sir," he panted, "From The Ditch." Young took the telegram from the exhausted runner and scanned through it.

"take a note." he told the runner.

@mrambo90

From: Priminister Lawrence J. Young, St. Johns, The Soverign Dominion of Newfoundland
To: Priminister William Lyon Mackenzie King

I'm not sure who you are Mr. King, or what you've done with President Sirus Connolly but if it is negotiation that you seek then I propose that you come to St. Johns at your nearest convenience, as it seems that both of us have no idea as to what has transpired to get us into this situation.

Point of Departure: World War II

<Snipped quote by ClocktowerEchos>

*Kataylabinsk re-meets Yamatai and Yllendthyr*

"Seriously? We had to get these guys? The most imperialist, apartheid, feudal and backward of the lot? I give up."

@Mihndar

I feel the need to Ventiumize my nation just to get in on this reunion action.