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Ben Somerset

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  1. Ben Somerset

    Achtung!

    As Epsilon pointed out, SIN Wing does have an XO's billet. However, it is already filled by Commander Dreada. Lakeela, if you'd like to transfer to SIN Wing, I'd be more than happy to have you aboard. I'm sure we could find a good billeting for you.
  2. Ben Somerset

    Achtung!

    I believe it does, Orthae. One small piece of business, however. Your sig should be altered to read; Cmdr (or Commander, personal preference) Orthae GCV Dream Sword, Wraith HQ (Lyrius) Wraith Fleet/SIN Wing The image files are optional, and are personal preference only Welcome aboard SIN Wing, Commander.
  3. This is a story I've wanted to write a long time. Perhaps some of you know where it'll end up going. [RP] 0130, 1 January, 2991 Home of Commander Angelique Trouseau San Fransisco, California She was always glad when she threw a successful party. Especially when it was a New Year's Party that she got to hold at her home. It was a very rare year when she could celebrate at home anymore. Being the Commander of a starship precluded it. More often than not she was aboard ship at this time. This year, however, she was lucky enough to be home. Around her, the house didn't look too bad. Bottles were strewn about, empty cans sat in the oddest places, and trash covered some parts of the floor. As she sipped her glass of champange she looked at the man who had really made this party possible. Her First Lieutenant. He was a good organizer, and had proven to be the best XO she had ever had. He noticed her looking at him, and smiled. Though he was feeling the effects of the alcohol, Benjamin Somerset was still coherent enough to realize how beautiful his Commander looked. Angelique stared right back at him, and said "Good party, eh, Ben?" His smile grew at the French lilt that was only more prononunced when she had been drinking. "I think so. Everyone did seem to enjoy themselves." "Except you," she said. A frown crossed his face as he said, "How so? I had a good time." "No...I don't think so. You would have more fun running decompression drills." "I may love my job, but I don't think a decompression drill would be more fun. But there was that...guy you spent most of the evening with. What I'd do if I got that guy alo-" Somerset cut the thought off, before it turned into something else. Instead, he looked at her and said "I was fine." She sat the champange down and folded her hands under her arms. "Don't lie to me, Ben. You think I spent my entire evening with my head in the clouds? I looked at you. You played the part of host quite well, but I know when you're putting on an act." He became indignant. This was not how the conversation was supposed to be going. "And what if I was?" "Why would you? I can't think of a good reason why." With the alcohol, and his annoyance, Somerset threw his caution to the wind. "I can. That beast that was hanging off your arm all evening, for starters." "Him? He was nothing, and you know it. You don't still see him here, do you? Probably ended up on someone else's arm." "And why was that?" he asked accusingly. "Perhaps it was because I didn't want him to stay. Perhaps I'd rather have someone else spend the night here." "Who? I'm the only one left." She stared at him. Realization came to him. He raised his hand, and pointed back to himself. Slowly, she nodded. "But, why?" "Why not? You've been my First for almost 2 years now. I know you better than I've known any other man in my life. I've never had a finer friend. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before." He wouldn't. The thought had crossed his mind often the last five or so months. Evening meals spent in her quarters, just the two of them. Long watches on the bridge, with no one else to talk to. "But what in hell are you thinking? She's your Commander for God's sake! Stop yourself befo-" It was too late. Before he could think anything else, his legs propelled him over to her, and he was in her arms. No words went between them as their lips met. What was happening was more than against the rules. It was against tradition, their duties, and everything else they held dear. A Commander and her First Lieutenant were not supposed to become romantically involved. For Angelique Trouseau and Benjamin Somerset, it was now too late. [/RP]
  4. Ben Somerset

    Achtung!

    And SIN Wing is more than happy to have you, Orthae. Welcome aboard!
  5. Ben Somerset

    Achtung!

    Welcome aboard, Orthae. Glad to see another Commander interested in SIN Wing, if the reorganization of the Fleet goes through. When it does, I hope to be able to form SIN Wings 2nd Squadron. But with your addition, I may consider it already. Tac, your opinion and input would be appreciated. Epsilon5; Unlike the FC, I am rather against spacing as it is quite gruesome. However, I do approve of the snog diet. Suggest that it be implemented immediately.
  6. Ben Somerset

    Achtung!

    Overall, the changes look fairly good. And since we have a minor Wing Leader retention problem (Gallion... ) this will make things a lot simpler. The Marine units having ships actually assigned to them is good also. I also agree with the seperation of command between shipborne and ground elements. In ground landings a duel role Commander could foul up C&C to the point of no return. I can't see any difficulties or problems in doing any of this.
  7. Welcome aboard, Ghost. Glad to see that we've got a Marine CO.
  8. Shingen, RTFM stands for Read the Fine Manual. Though sometimes you may subsitute another word for Fine when you're frustrated.
  9. This is assuming that GQ gets sounded when the explosion goes off on Deck 3. [RP] 19 May, 3008 GCV McKendrick Guest Quarters Cabin 12 He'd always loved the beach in San Fransisco. And today he was in his favorite spot, feet in the sand, watching the sunset with the Golden Gate in the foreground. With him was what he still felt was the most beautiful person the galaxy had ever created. It was his good fortune to have found and married this wonderful woman. To be able to stand here and hold her hand as the sun went down. Through the Golden Gate the oranges were turning into blood red, playing off the clouds overhead in interesting shades of dark blue. Above them, stars began to twinkle in the sky. It was one thing about them that Somerset loved. They could merely stand somewhere in perfect silence. Nothing needed to be said. The whole conversation required no words at all. When the sun had finally dropped below the surface of the sea, she turned to face him. He looked at her, deep into her sea blue eyes, and held her head in his hands as he pulled her near and kissed her. And as they kissed, he heard a sound that didn't belong on the beach. The sound of General Quarters. He awoke with a start. The atonal sound blasted his ears like sledgehammers, as he remembered where he was. "Oh, bloody hell. My bleeding head..." he said as his voice reverberated through his ears. He went over to the kit that he had carefully packed in the suits cargo space back on the Vulture. He'd be damned if he left his things on that godforsaken ship. From the kit he withdrew something he knew he put in there for a reason, though he needed it only rarely. An alcosal inhaler. Guarenteed to remove any vestige of intoxication with one quick burst. He hated it, but at GQ it became a necessity. He opened it, and put it to his mouth. Exhaling slowly he closed his eyes, winced, and pressed down. His head exploded in fire, and he fought to regain his internal balance for a moment. When he reopened his eyes, the haze in his brain was gone, though his head still throbbed. Not as badly, but it still throbbed. He returned quickly to reality as he heard the atonal sound again. He returned the alcosal to his kit, reached over to the table and grabbed his pistol. The same pistol he had "borrowed" from a dead Gamm warrior. He checked the charge, and ran out the hatch to face whatever it was that threatened them this time. What more could happen to mess this mission up, he kneweth not. [/RP]
  10. [RP] 19 May, 3008 GCV McKendrick Guest Quarters Cabin 12 After the galley had become a little too occupied for his taste, a slightly drunk Benjamin Somerset went to the QM Droid in CB1 to get himself quarters assigned, and his uniform cleaned. It meant he finally got the suit off, but that he also had to take a utility uniform until his real uniform was ready. He hated utility uniform. It was for duties that a duty uniform might not be able to handle. Issue uniforms, anyway. Somerset had his uniforms tailor made, and of a little more tough material than issue. They stood up longer, looked better, and could take a lot more abuse. But in his drunked state, it was only a minor annoyance. With the same bottle of Ale and glass that he had requesitioned from the galley, he poured up another glass. He reached over to the table mounted terminal, and accessed a piece of music he was fond of. It wasn't his fault he enjoyed ancient 20th century music. Angelique had introduced it to him during his 2 years as her XO. She'd loved absolutely everything about the 20th century. Over the years, she'd even acquired a few geniune articles from that long forgotten era. Something they called a "poster" of a long forgotten "movie" titled "Monty Python and the Holy Grail". She is also the one who introduced him to this particular musical artist. A "legend in his own time", she had said. At one time, she had told him, there had been a statue of him in New York City. She called him "Old Blue Eyes", but Benjamin called him Frank Sinatra. For some inexplicable reason, at least to him, he loved this kind of music. So, he sat and listened, the music and alcohol opening up roads of thought that Somerset didn't, couldn't, go down. "Close to you - I will always stay Close to you - though you're far away You'll always be near - as though you were here By my side No matter where - in my dreams, I'll find you there Close to me - sharing your caress Can't you see - you're my happiness Where ever you go - my heart will go too What can I do It only wants to be - close to you" He thought about his wife, and wondered if he would see her again. The way things had been going the last few months, he didn't know if he'd be alive much longer. He should have retired when he had the chance. These kids and all of their new, fancy ideas made him feel like little more than a crotchity old man who didn't belong out here anymore. Where he belonged was with his wife. The one person he knew understood and cared for him. All of the children, Savage included, could probably care less. To him, at this moment, even Savage seemed like a child. This young, brash, irresponsible, blasted idiotic child. A child who had the authority to get a lot of people killed. People like Benjamin Somerset. "Why didn't I just tell them I couldn't hack it anymore? Then they'd have to relieve me. I'd be able to stay home, with Jessica. That's where I want to be. Not out here fighting another damned war. I've already done that once, and once is enough." "What you really need to do is stop sobbing for yourself. They sent you back out again because they know you have the experience to keep a lot of people safe, who otherwise might die with a fresh from the ACTP Commander. You've got a duty to your crew to keep them in one piece. Not run out on them, just because you want to be with your wife." "But who says that wanting to be with her is wrong? I almost lost her to the service once, and may have gotten her back just because of what happened in Rinaal. I'll take it any way I can get it, though. I just hope that Savage has it together enough to keep us all from dying." "I doubt it, though. They shouldn't have ever given him Orion in the first place. He's too young, too junior, and wasn't ready for what they tossed on him. There had to be at least 50 Commanders ahead of him on the promotion list they should have given the Fleet Commander's post to. And yes, that includes you too." "Admit it, you're surprised that he made it this long without seriously screwing something up. Was it good fortune, luck, or genuine ability? Luck. It has to be. Savage wasn't, still isn't really, ready for a Fleet Commander's position. Who in their right mind put him in this kind of position? What kind of Fleet Command garbage is this?" "Ah, but remember Benjamin, 'Tis not yours to wonder why, 'tis only yours to do and die'." "Knowing Savage, that's exactly what's going to happen, too" With that thought, Benjamin Somerset fell into an alcohol induced sleep. [/RP] No, Blades, he really doesn't hold a high opinion of you at the moment. Whether because of Akuma, or recent events, only the booze knows.
  11. Indeed it is, Nova. Thanks for the Birthday wish. Unfortunately, your character has now made an error, and will be forced to live with it. [RP] 19 May, 3008 GCV McKendrick Galley By the time boy had walked up to Somerset, he was well into a fair state of inebriation. He'd probably said a little more than he should have, but that was just the liquor talking. Mostly. He didn't know what the bugger Savage was doing, or why. As he finished off his third glass of Ale, and poured more in, he remembered something the boy had said. And with his slightly fuzzy vision, he looked at the kid. He couldn't be any older than Akuma, and was most likely much younger. A young snot who probably didn't make a pimple on a good spacers ass. Not that he would tell the boy that. It was about then that he remembered what the boy had called Savage. "What was it exactly? Something about 'that sh$$y excuse of a officer'. I may not like the man, but I still can't stand for that. No way." He quickly jumped to his feet and yelled in a manner that would make a Marine DI proud, "Atten-shun!" The boy in a Pavlovian reflex snapped to attention, with the bottle flat against his right leg. "Son, I may have given you permission to speak freely, but there are limits to that freedom. I will not hear someone referring to the Fleet Commander as a sh$$y excuse for an officer in my presence! He is your superior officer, and by extension, is far more experienced than you are. With that kind of talk, you'll never get to be as experienced as he is, because they'll lock your ass away on Titan." "Insubordination is not the way to get on my good side. If the sauce does this kind of thing to you, get off of it! I'll bet that the Vulture was the first place you've seen combat. Well, if you thought that was bad, you're going to end up with yourself, and your ship full of so many holes it could be mistaken for swiss cheese." "As for ballistic, you have no idea. Were this my ship, I'd put you up before Commander's Mast for what you've said. And I would more than happily dispense equally proper punishment. You should feel lucky that I don't call the Marines and have you placed under arrest right here!" "Perhaps you should remember certain things they teach you at the Academy, like respecting those officers appointed above you. That way, the next time you get an idea to speak up like that, you'll think twice and not get your tounge lodged in your ass. He's still the Fleet Commander, and you will show him due respect! Is that understood?" The boy looked down slowly and answered "Yes, sir." "Good. In that case, you're dismissed. And I don't want to hear that kind of talk about the Fleet Commander from you again!" The boy started to walk off, when he was stopped by Somerset one last time. "Son, I believe you forgot something when you were dismissed! You are to salute your superior officers when dismissed!" The startled boy had a slight fright in his eyes as he popped back to attention, and snapped off a salute that might have done a parade ground proud. He wasn't sure because his vision was getting worse. He snapped up a salute of his own, and lowered his hand. The boys hand lowered and he eased from attention. Somerset took notice that the entire galley was silent, some even staring openmouthed at what had transpired. Commander Benjamin Somerset on the other hand, merely returned to his chair, and resumed his conspumtion of the Emperian Ale. He chuckled as an irreverant thought of himself popped into his head. "Mr. Spit and Polish strikes again!" [/RP] Mr. Spit and Polish'll get you every time, won't he?
  12. [RP] 19 May, 3008 GCV McKendrick Galley It wasn't the reply he expected. Before she even said anything, she drank at least two inches of the Chivas in one gulp. Somerset wasn't too surprised at that, since he had acted similarly when he was young. Particularly when he found out they were giving him a Second Officer's post on the ECV Indefagitable. He and his friends had knocked back more than a few in that exact fashion that night. He wasn't surprised when she turned to glare at him with "The Look", and say quietly, yet with ice in her voice "No, I don't want to talk about him." "Not surprising. I didn't want to talk about my first divorce, so why should I expect her to want to talk about this?" But before he could even try to answer, she opened up on him like the broadsides of an ancient 18th century British 74. "What did you think I was some irrisponsible child willing to run home and cry to mommy? Well I'm not going to and you know why? Because my family was killed by terrorists! The only people that have really helped me along in my life are the Insurgents!" She brought her voice down. "Is the insurgents." "No, I certainly wouldn't figure that. Because in my day it was the Insurgents who were the terrorists! Who do you think jumped my ship while we were performing a nebula survey, and killed my Commander? Insurgents, that's who, you sniveling little brat! Yes, you are an irresponsible child who ran and cried at the first sign of trouble. My Commander was sitting on the deck with most of the starboard bulkhead through her back, and did I run and cry? NO! I did my duty, like I was taught in the Academy. I suppose that they don't teach the same thing to you children, do they?" "You think it's easy to get tossed into a ship and told that you're in command? You think it's easy for me to comprehend what's going on Sir?" "Of course it isn't, kid. Command is never easy. But they never taught you that, either, did they? Damn them for making that God-forsaken ACTP. ACTP "graduates" like you are going to get a whole bunch of good warriors killed!" He watched as she poured another three inches worth, and gulped it too down. With her smaller stature, she should be well on her way to drunkenness now. Then she said something that both startled, and angered him. "Quite honestly right now I'm tempted to defect. No, don't....I'm not going to...yet." "Oh, yes, child? Do you know what the Articles of War say about that? Just talking about that could be considered treason, and they can shoot you for that. At least a court-martial, and a good number of years on Titan. But, I'll blame it on the booze. For now." Before he could respond with any of his thoughts, she stood and said "Is there somthing else you wanted me to talk about other than that worthless excuse for a man on the bridge because if you don't have anything more to say to me Sir..." She said the last word with malice. "I'm going to my quarters." "Only that the sir was quite insolent. And if I don't tolerate that kind of behaviour from my junior officers, I certainly won't tolerate it from you. Someone should have done a better job of teaching you sniveling little idiots about what the service is about. Duty, honor, loyalty, obligation. Hell, I doubt you even know what that is. Your actions certainly don't show it, that's for sure." "And if you'll permit me to speak freely sir..." She didn't stop to let him give her his permission knowing that she'd gone on a tangent already. "You can tell that fleet commander of yours that if he want's to see me he can talk to me in my quarters because orders or no...I should still be in the psych ward and I'm not coming out till I'm good and ready." "Permission? I might've given it, just to see how far you'd dig your grave. But at least you agree with my opinion of Savage. Even if you don't know he's not my Fleet Commander. It's a good thing too. Tac may be many things, but he isn't an incompetent bufoon, like most of Orion appears to be." "And one more thing sir...If he has orders for me, tell him to do it in person. I'm not taking calls. I've just about had it up to here," she said and abruptly left. With his bottle. Out of everything, that made him the angriest. He deserved that bottle a hell of a lot more than she did. That snobby little child wasn't the one who had stood in a vac suit for hours fixing that busted up piece of garbage, damn near getting her ass scattered all over space just to save the lives of those onboard. She'd sat there and cried like a little child about how terrible everything was, and other drivel of that nature. But right now, he needed a drink. Because that kid had stolen his. He walked quietly over to the bar, and told the droid in a voice that could melt hull armor, yet was as soft as a pillow "I know you've got some Emperian Ale down there. Every ship does. I want it, and I want it now. If I don't, the next thing you'll be seeing is a Maitenance Droid disassembling your sorry ass. Do you understand?" "Perfectly, sir. Here is the bottle you requested," the droid said without complain, and without fuss. Somerset walked back over to his table, and opened the bottle. He quickly kicked back the Chivas he had in his glass, and poured four inches of the Ale into it. Taking a deep drink, he wondered something. "I'd like to see how she'd react to someone she loved getting torn to pieces. Because I know Angelique at least, deserved better." He then drained the glass, and poured some more, intending only to get reasonably tight in the very near future. [/RP]
  13. Nova, a small thing of note. I was headed to the galley with Akuma for drinks, not Blades. Under the circumstances, kissing Neena and all, I seriously doubt that Blades would be the first person Akuma would want to talk to. Personally, I'd rip his lungs out, but since she has feelings for him... Love is strange, after all. [RP] 19 May, 3008 GCV McKendrick Galley He'd seen Akuma take a quick look at Savage before they began heading toward the galley, for what he considered a well needed and earned drink. Almost before they made it out the hatch, Savage began another one of his speeches about what was to come. It was concise, and told them absolutely nothing. "All he mangaged to say is that we're going to get our asses shot off, because he doesn't have an Ops plan in place already. At least when we got jumped by the Gamms in Rinaal, we had a contingency plan in place. And all in all, it worked fairly well. At least, if you consider over ten thousand casualties quite well." With that thought, his eyes grew cold, and he glared at Savage. What in hell does he know about ground Ops anyway? How many Marine teams has he beamed down with? And how many did he see get blown away because some stupid higher up couldn't find his arse with both hands and a wristlaser?" Ben Somerset was well aware he'd at least paid his dues in those respects. Most nights ever since the Massacre, he'd dreamed about it. When he'd come home, Jessica had been genuinely frightened when he'd wake up screaming in a cold sweat. He knew he'd get over it eventually, but that it would take time. Too many had died, and the death wasn't going to end any time soon. He'd gone down with Marines, and seen the carnage. The holed ATV's, MI guys with holes the size of watermelons gaping through their armor. Hell, the Marines had given him the highest accolade they could. They'd told him personally that he made a better jarhead than any other vacuum sucker they'd ever met. Now that was a compliment. And did Savage have a clue? At the moment, it was doubtful. With his flagrant disobedience of proper decorum, among other things (which meant Akuma, probably), Somerset did not have a high opinion of Karl Savage's capabilities as a commanding officer. "But what I need right now is a drink. That might put things in a better light." He didn't even notice that his suit was still on. Spending the first 6 years of your career in Engineering meant you got used to a lot of suit time. And Marine battle armor was very similar to a standard suit. Most people would shed a suit at the first opportunity. "I guess old spacers just don't get bothered by it like these kids do." With that, he turned and began heading for the galley. As he did, he noticed Akuma giving Savage what even men in the 31st century called "The Look", and came up to walk side by side. Conversation was light on the way. Nothing too serious was brought up. As they walked down the corridors, Somerset couldn't help looking at her, and how young she was. Just a child, and GalCom entrusted her with a billion credit plus ship, and the lives of her crew. When he was her age, he was only then going to the Tactical Officer's Course to move up to Second Officer. Why GalCom had started minting the fledgling children, who were no more spacers than his accountant brother, as Commanders was beyond his understanding. "But remember, Ben, you're from a different time. To these kids, you are an anachronism. A throwback to 'days long gone'. When things like 'protocall' and 'military courtesy' were important." He'd heard what some of them had to say about "Mr. Spit and Polish". Just how many of them thought he belonged more on a holystoned quarterdeck, cutlass in hand, carronade roaring around him? He couldn't answer his question, because they arrived at the galley. He walked up to the Steward Droid manning the counter and asked, "What do you have in the way of spirits?" "There is the standard issue of Class VI spirits in stock, sir. Brandy, scotch, congac, vodka, gin, rum, beer, and wine," the droid tonelessly replied. "Fine. You don't happen to have any Chivas Regal, do you?" "Yes. But that is reserved for the senior officers. Guest persons are only allowed standard Class VI spirits." "We'll have to see what we can do about that, won't we?" he said, grinning almost wickedly at Akuma. "You do have access to the main computer, do you not?" "Yes, sir," the machine replied uncaringly. "Then access the personnel records, and identify me." "You are Commander Benjamin Somerset, sir." "That's right. And as a perview of my rank, I'm countermanding the standing orders, and requesting that you give me the bottle of Chivas," he said. Rank hath its priviledges. "I'm afraid that would have to be authorized by the Commander, sir," the droid tried to say somewhat politely. "And what is the Commander's date of rank?" It took a moment for the droid to get that information. "July, 3004, sir." "And mine?" Another moment quickly passed. "February, 2991, sir." "That means I outrank her, and therefore, you will give me the Chivas." He could almost hear the gears turning when the droid reached down and pulled out a full bottle of Chivas Regal and two glasses, saying "That is a reasonable argument, sir. Thank you, and enjoy your stay." "That last bit sounded just like a cheap hotel droid in the Capital. But who cares? It got us the bottle." He lifted the bottle and glasses, and set them on the table. Looking at Akuma he said "An old friend used to say he always thought I'd make a good guardhouse lawyer. Now I'm beginning to see why." That thought caused a small chuckle as he broke the seals, and poured a generous portion into each glass. As he looked directly at her with his unwavering gaze, he took a chance and asked "You want to talk about Savage?" "After all, being a commanding officer is more about calculated risk than it is anything else." And then an awful thought crossed his mind as he waited for an answer, a slap, or a drink thrown in his face. "What if Savage has calculated that we're all expendable, if it means achieving the objective?" If that was the case, he would see to it that he would come back alive, just so he could kill that snotty Fleet Commander. [ 04-24-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]
  14. [RP] 19 May, 3008 GCV McKendrick Somerset could tell a great deal of activity was going on around him. He couldn't hear any of it however, and had started to wonder why. It was then he noticed that the helmet displays were still functioning. Which meant that to hear any of it, the helmet would have to come off. Besides, he was safe on a GalCom vessel. What could possibly be going wrong aboard one of their own warships? With that thought in his mind, he popped the seals on his helmet, and removed it. It was about then that he took note of an odd sound coming from behind him. Like the gasping breaths of someone with a serious chest wound, only not quite. He wondered if he should call over a medic as he turned around. What he saw before him was disgusting. The person who stood before him was an abberition of an officer. She stood before him in a GalCom uniform, and was having an emotional breakdown right in front of him. It was one thing to shed tears of joy at surviving, but Ben Somerset had always been of the opinion that tears of sorrow should always be shed at the appropriate place at the appropriate time. That time was not when the ship could become engaged in combat at any time. And from what he could tell, these were tears of sorrow. Over what, he wasn't quite sure. He vaguely recognized the woman, and was fairly certain she had brought none of her own people with her. That was when it hit him. "She's the "Uncle Rattler" kid. I wonder if her good "Uncle" is around here..." he thought as he look around. The Man with the Mirrored Glasses was indeed present. He was behind her, where she could not see him. But thinking about "Uncle Rattler" reminded him of her...pleading incident as well. Savage was invovled in that...and now Savage was... "Bloody hell. It never gets any better, or any easier does it? I just wish that someone would write a better CO's manual. At least it could tell me whether tearing her a new one would be more effective or not. Unfortunately, there was no manual. And this kid was still here bawling, contrary to anything she should have ever learned as an officer. Officers do not cry. At least, they do not in front of their subordinates. The crew knew the CO was as scared as they were, a CO would be crazy if they weren't. But if a CO started panicing, the whole crew would, and bad things would happen. He'd seen it before when he was still in EarthCom. The Commander had lost it in the middle of a fight, and the bridge had just fallen apart. It had taken the XO ramming orders down everyone's throat just to save the ship. Ben Somerset never forgot it, for that reason. It wouldn't do any good to have this kid in a Commander's uniform crying on someone else's ship. Especially when it was conduct detrimental to proper military order and discipline. Benjamin Somerset usually tried to be nice. In this circumstance, he however thought that would not be the proper course of action. Some steel would neccessary. She had appeared to be near breakdown more than once on this damn trip already. And the last thing he wanted was a Commander who couldn't hack it. With a war on, they needed every single CO they could get. Ones who didn't break down when a writing stylus fell wrong. "I don't feel well." She managed to say. "Could someone show me to a place I can r..Rest?" Somerset noted that she avoided looking at Savage and the woman. The tears streaking down her cheeks were obvious, and her body language screamed "Get me out of here!" After long enough in command, one began to see as much what was said...as wasn't. And it was time to do with the what was said part. "You can rest after you straighten yourself up and act like a Commander in the service," he said, steel in his voice. Yet, he had not raised his voice one bit. It was as gentle as a pillow, but still sharp as a blade. "They did not give you a commission at the Academy to see you break down the first time you see something you don't like. You might as well get used to it, since it's going to happen the rest of your career." His eyes seemed to wince slightly as he continued, "It's happened to me more times than I care to count. When my Commander was killed in battle with the Insurgents, I almost lost it," he said quietly. "But I put that behind me, and did what had to be done. Not because it was what I wanted, but because it was neccessary. People die, and bad things happen in war, dear lady," he continued, voice softening. "Things that none of us want. I didn't want Angelique to die. You didn't want what has happened either. But that isn't the point." The steel came back in into the voice. "The point is that you are an example to the men. What example do you set when you sit and cry like that? The men see you as a weak, indecisive officer. And when you get into combat, that gets people killed. Your men will die because of your incompetence, Commander! Because you let everything get to you. If that happens, Commander, I will personally recommend to Fleet Commander Savage that you be relieved of duty, pending psychological evaluation." "Get yourself to the galley, and have a few drinks," he said, voice softening again. "Then pick up the pieces, and move on. There's nothing else you can do about it. I suppose that's one thing you learn with age. Too many things are beyond your control. The way you deal with things isn't. Get your act together. You owe it to yourself, and to your men." Almost before he pointed out to her the way to the galley he said, "Aw...bugger it. I could use a medicinal dose myself. Thank God that they haven't banned alcohol onboard ship. I'll join you. I think we've both earned a tot, in our own ways. You with yours, and me with holding that bucket together far longer than either of us expected. Me, or her. I'll drink to her, though. For a piece of junk, she was a fine ship. Let's get to the galley," he said, motioning the young lady to follow him. He began to head for the galley, not really taking note if she followed or not. Someone had needed to remind her of her obligations as an officer. He only hoped she listened. The only thing a sobbing officer was capable of was getting good warriors dead. And good warriors deserved good officers. Not second-rate hacks. Which until she changed her ways, was exactly what this officer would be. A kid in a uniform, who didn't deserve a command chair anymore than he would have at her age. "Damn ACTP," he thought. "These damn 25 year olds getting ships." Then the worst thought came unbidden. "I feel ancient around these kids." [ 04-21-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]
  15. [RP] 19 May, 3008 Modified LRT-15 Transport SSVulture Engine Room Inside his suit, Benjamin Somerset heard only silence. The frantic commands he constantly forced through the computers to keep the ship together were failing. It wouldn't be long now until the ship disentigrated into nothingness. The silence was broken by the now incessent computer chime. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 2 minutes." Benjamin Somerset began silently praying as he tried to keep the inevitable from occuring. The commands flowed from his fingers and memory just as his prayers did. "...and though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil..." In his younger days, Somerset had been a fairly devout Second Reformation Roman Catholic. Point of fact, a great portion of his country was. But as the years passed, and the death tolls grew, Somerset began to lose his faith. The last few months had seen a lot of death, and the slight remerging faith he though he had lost. But computers had no time, and no care for prayers. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate failure in 1 minute, 30 seconds." "Dammit. There's no way to stop this," he said with a defeated tone. "Computer, sound Condition 1AS." "Acknowledged," the computer carelessly replied. Then the voice came over his comm, and presumably, over every other suit comm and compartment that wasn't open to space. "Condition 1AS, Condition 1AS. All hands abandon ship, repeat all hands abandon ship. This is not a drill. Condition 1AS, Condition 1AS. All hands, abandon ship." Benjamin Somerset, however, did not comply. The MSM was reporting near complete collapse on Deck 1, and he wasn't sure if Savage was off the bridge yet. "Computer, scan lifesigns on Deck 1." "Unable to comply. Deck 1 internal sensors are offline." "Damn. Well, if I reroute aux power from distribution link 3, and reshunt it into," he said to himself as he formulated his thoughts into action. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 45 seconds." "Come on...hold together just a little longer...hold together," he said, commands becoming frantic as he rushed to save an unsaveable ship. "SIF failure in progress. Structural collapse on Deck 1 in 15 seconds." "I hope there's no one there," Somerset idly. If there was, it was too late for them. As it would soon be for them all. The speed of his hands became near blinding as he sought to keep the rest of the ship together. But without integrity on Deck 1, and the rest of the field coming down it was unlikely. "Structural collapse on Deck 1 in 9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1. SIF failure on Deck 1. Warning. Deck 1 emergency atmospheric contaiment failure. Deck 1 open to space." "Well, there goes Savage. He deserved better," Somerset thought. "Suppose it doesn't matter though. Because the rest of us won't be far behind. "SIF failure in progress. Deck 3 structural collapse in 12 seconds." "Deck 3! I'm on Deck 3! Bloody hell!" Somerset yelled as he rushed up a connecting ladder to Deck 2. "Collapse in 10...9...8...7...6..." "Computer, seal the access hatch to Deck 3!" "Acknowledged. Hatch sealing," the computer intoned. It almost made it shut before a sudden blast came through the slightly open hatch. "Deck 3 is open to space," the computer said as if it had not a care in the world. The hatch silently sealed, and the rush of air stopped. "SIF failure on Deck 2 in 10 seconds," the computer said as it began its countdown. "I'm done for." And even if he did believe it, Somerset ran for his only chance at survival. An escape pod. He ran into the still open corridor, not noticing all of the blown out panels and wreckage strewn across the deckplates. Shoving himself through the open hatch, he said "Computer, seal the pod hatch. Eject in 3 seconds." "Hatch sealing," the computer intoned as the doors began to slide shut. "SIF failure in 5...4...3...launching escape pod." As the pod started to slide out of its hatch Benjamin Somerset began to feel an odd sensation. Almost like cool bugs crawling all over his skin, even though he was still in a suit. Then his vision began to distort, and the pod he had been in began to fade from view. At that moment, he realized what was occuring. "Transporter. I hate transporters," he thought. Transporters were supposed to be the "wave of the future". In that event, Somerset felt he must be an anachronism. He had come from a time when there was no such thing as a transporter, and you had to perform ship to ship travel in a shuttle. If he had his way, Somerset would still much rather shuttle somewhere than use a God-forsaken transporter. In this case, however, he was willing to make an exception. As the sensations began to disappear, and his senses returned to normal, Somerset noticed that he was in a cargo bay. Very similar to the one aboard his own ship. That meant whatever ship this was, she was a Galactan-class Battlecruiser. "Thank God, I made it off that ship of doom, and returned to the real world!" he shouted out in his own mind. That was when he turned his head, and looked at Savage, who appeared to be alive as ever. He also was still looking at him when he took someone in a Commander's uniform in his arms, and kissed her deeply. His first thought was to go punch the man. It had been ages since he and his wife had been together, and Somerset despised public displays of affection. Unless they were his own. Then his eyes flicked up to an insignia on the cargo bay doors. The insignia of Orion Fleet. "If this ship was in Orion Fleet, and this woman who Savage is kissing is her Commmander," he thought, "someone has just made a rather severe violation of the regulations." In particular, the regulation that not only discouraged, but forbid romantic relationships between officers in the same chain of command. Officers like Savage and the woman. However, he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. A grin began to form on his face at the thought. He personally had violated those same regulations when he became involved with his wife. They were in the same chain of command, and he deliberately told the regulations to piss off. The grin grew as the thought came unbidden. "If I can tell the regs to piss off, why can't a Fleet Commander?" From behind the still suited Somerset, there was an audible gasp. Audible to anyone not wearing a suit. So from slightly ahead of Minako, Somerset smiled glibly at the sight before him, and wished Savage good fortune in his endeavour. If he survived to pursue it. [/RP] [ 04-19-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]
  16. Cmdr Nova, The SIF (Structural Integrity Field) is what holds the ship together when making high speed transits. A ship entering hyperspace goes from 0 to extreme speed in a few microseconds. Under normal circumstances, this would immediately turn the ship into something like a deflated ballon. The SIF is designed to hold the ships structure together, so this doesn't happen. Working in concert with the SIF would be the inertial compensator. While the SIF holds the ship together, the inertial compensator keeps the crew from being turned into salsa on the nearest aft bulkhead when a stressful transit (through hyperspace, jumpgate, or wormhole) occurs. None of the components (specifically) isn't mentioned in the BC parts list IFAIK, so I assume (which can be bad ) that both are part of the "Guardian Field" that protects the ship. But IMO they should be referred to seperately, since they do different jobs, even if they are part of the same system. Just my $0.02 on the matter.
  17. You might like to refer to Engineering 101 for other forumgoers (myself included) concepts as to some of these technologies. Personally for the NRE situation, I'd go with Schultz's Scenario 2 towards the bottom of the page. It seems the most plausible theory given our current knowledge on tech. I've been thinking of a more detailed concept of just *how* the various components interact to create energy that can be used, and *where* it goes afterwards. I'll give some more concerted thought on it, and post again tomorrow. One thing about #13. I'm personally more inclined to think that drive systems are gravity based. Why? Because the only visible exhaust ports on ships are at the aft end. With newtonian motion, how are ships supposed to decelerate without completely reversing direction, and applying *forward* thrust to stop? Now you could use technobabble to explain that exhaust vents are variable, and are somehow able to apply deceleration, as well as acceleration, but I personally don't like it. The use of gravity, IMHO, makes for a simpler, and plausible (depending on who you ask) solution. Good to see you back, DeSylva. [ 04-14-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]
  18. [RP] 19 May, 3008 Modified LRT-15 Transport SS Vulture Engine Room Time was swiftly running out for the Beater. In Engineering, and throughout the rest of the ship, Benjamin Somerset and his SE's frantically worked to buy more time for the crew to get to evac stations. Engineering was all but deserted, save for one man constantly punching commands into the console in front of the MSM. Logistix was beginning to show signs of all the fighting that had recently occured, and Somerset was being forced to hold the reactor together with hectic commands and adjustments to keep it from tearing itself apart. Under the circumstances, it would probably be best to just eject the core. However, even if Somerset left it alone, the reactor wouldn't drive itself to destruction before the SIF failure did the job itself. Fortunately for him, the builders had done this LRT-15, and Benjamin Somerset in particular, a very good favor. Even though they had skimped out of a HD MSM, they had put in an escape pod less than 5 seconds distance from Engineering. If neccessary, he could run and get off the ship before she tore herself apart. But there was still work to do. "Sir," a voice crackled over Somerset's suit comm, "Team 3 has diverted power from the aux grid into the SIF. That should buy us a few more minutes." Before he could reply, the computer gave its beautiful warning chime. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 6 minutes, 35 seconds." "Very good work. All Teams, this is Somerset. I doubt there's anything else we can do to save the ship. Set all portable field generators on automatic, and head for evac stations. If there's anything else that needs doing, I'll handle it down here. All Teams acknowledge. Somerset, out." The Teams grudgingly acknowledged, and began making their way though the broken ship to evac stations. Though he was certain there was no one left on the bridge, Somerset felt that he should inform anyone who might be crazy enough to be up there of their good fortune. As good as it had come this day, anyway. "Bridge! This is Somerset in Engineering. Is anybody there?" Hearing a voice slightly shocked Somerset. Who the voice came from was even more shocking. The voice of Savage came floating over his comm, slightly garbled. "B-n? W--t are you --ing in --gineer-ng? Get --- hell -ut of th--e, NOW!" "That's a very kind suggestion coming from you, boss. I managed to buy perhaps another two minutes. But Logistix says Deck 1 is buckling. I suggest you get out now, while there's still time." The only reply he heard was "Understood." Understood? The man only understood he was going to be breathing vacuum in perhaps two minutes? But Benjamin Somerset was in Engineering, and that meant he could at least do something. "Computer, reinforce SIF fields around the Bridge, and connecting corridors to Deck 2 aft. Transfer all power from the engines, shields, weapons, and all other nonessential systems. Activate emergency containment fields on the bridge and connecting corridors to Deck 2 aft in case of atmospheric breach. Inform me the moment atmospheric pressure begins dropping in any of those areas." "Acknowledged. Transferring all power to SIF fields and emergency atmosphereic containment fields. Sensors indicate no loss of atmospheric pressure at this time." But they would. And Somerset had done what he could to save Savage from certain death if his route to Deck 2 decompressed. Because what happened during explosive decompression was a fate he wished on no one. He had seen the damage it had wrought, and gruesome didn't begin to describe it. He only hoped that Savage made it out in time. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 6 minutes, 5 seconds." [/RP] [ 04-12-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]
  19. quote:I, for one, believe with ALL my heart that it is better to die a free man than live as a slave. Wholeheartedly agreed there, Mike. As far as diplomacy versus war goes, let us remember Clausewitz who said (and I'm paraphrasing here) War is merely diplomacy conducted through other means. Sometimes it is neccessary, whether we wish it that way or not. Personally, I would like to see no more major wars in my lifetime. Unfortunately, however, I think it might be wishful thinking.
  20. Zeke; I'm assuming that Engineering takes up more than one deck. Besides, with command access, Somerset can easily open up the sealed hatches. [RP] 19 May, 3008 Modified LRT-15 Transport SS Vulture Engineering The computer always made the sweetest warning chimes when the ship was about to fall apart. This occassion was no different. The computer chimed beautifully as it announced "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF collapse in 4 minutes." "All right everyone, let's be about it," Somerset said as his people started heading for the hatches. Suddenly, one of them stopped as his faceplate hit the still sealed hatch. "Um, sir, I think the hatch is sealed." "We don't have time for this. Computer, unseal all hatches in Engineering." "Acknowledged," came the computers reply as the hiss of opening hatches flowed through Engineering. "Now be on your ways. I'll monitor from here." The computer chimed again. Only this time, it was slightly different. "Warning. Reactor link pressure is exceeding tolerances." "Not now, damn you...computer, what is the reactor link pressure?" "50,000 kilopascals and rising," the computer immediately replied. This was not a good thing at all. The reactor link is what supplied heated plasma to not only the engines, but the power control unit which converted some of the plasma into electricity which could be utilized by the ship. If that failed, or exploded, the ship would be powerless. Though at the moment, being without power would be only a minor problem. "Computer, show me where the overpressure is occuring." The computer promptly threw up a scematic on the flat-panel MSM. Somerset quickly digested the information. It appeared that outboard valve 1, which ran to the sublight engines, was stuck in the closed position. Fortunately, it was "down-stream" of the PCU, so the ship wouldn't lose power. It would however, lose sublight propulsion. But on a ship about to come apart, did it really matter? There was little time to waste, and Somerset acted quickly. "Computer, seal off the reactor link aft of frame 17. Open all emergency vents from frame 17 aft, and vent drive plasma overboard." "Acknowledged. Reactor link sealed. Emergency vents opening. Venting drive plasma." Outside the ship, a plume appeared behind the ship, green plamsa spilling from them like billowing smoke. Losing the drive plamsa normally would be bad, but in the situation, hardly worth noticing. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 3 minutes, 30 seconds." Somerset's internal comm crackled. "All teams in place, sir. We're activating all the forcefields. Team 3 is trying to divert power from the aux grid to boost field strength." "Very good. Make it so," Somerset replied. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 4 minutes, 15 seconds." "Good work people. At least we've bought ourselves a little more time," Somerset said, slight triumph in his voice. Sometimes, it was all about the little victories. "Reactor link pressure decreasing. Dropping below 42,000 kilopascals. Reactor link pressure is now within normal tolerances. All drive plasma has been vented overboard. Setting Emergency Condition 3." "Belay that, computer. Set Emergency Condition 1. And standby to set Condition 1AS." Emergency Condition 1 ordered the computer to prioritize power to the SIF, life support, and the Guardian field. It was designed for crew survival until they could abandon ship. Which was what Condition 1AS was for. Even merchant ships, which had no combat systems, still had a Condition 1AS. It was universally known among spacers as the signal to abandon ship. "Somerset to Bridge. We just had a minor problem down here with the reactor link. I had to vent all the drive plasma overboard. We just got lit up like a Christmas tree to any ship in sensor range. I hope you've got another ship handy, because this one's finished," Somerset silently took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. "Recommend we set Condition 1AS, and get the hell off this bucket." Never before had Somerset recommended to abandon. Not even when the Starcruiser he served as XO on was shot to pieces, and he found himself placed in the Commander's post in the middle of a fight. Even then, he had been unwilling to abandon his post. As he was now, if he had any choice. The old Swiftsure wasn't under the threat of structural collapse, with all of her drive plasma overboard. This Beater was. And now it was time to leave her. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate SIF failure in 4 minutes." [/RP] Everyone's got a little extra time. Blades, I hope the McKendrick is on their toes. If not, we've got a great showstopper coming up.
  21. I go to eat dinner, and I come back to this. Impressive...most impressive.
  22. [RP] 19 May, 3008 Modified LRT-15 Transport SS Vulture The nightmare that had once been Engineering was now merely a mess. Most of the access panels had been resealed, and for the first time since Somerset entered it, he thought it looked like a real engine room. Not that it hadn't taken a lot to accomplish that. Unfortunately, his original estimate was off. There were so many foul-ups and glitches that it had taken not 2, but 5 hours to get the ship he had taken to calling Beater up an running. Somerset knew that calling the Vulture by the nickname Beater was insulting, but so was "useless bucket of bolts". And that was what this ship was. Even if they made it where they were going, this ship would never sail the stars again. She'd just seen far too much this time out. There wasn't a thing onboard that wasn't at least partially damaged, and just to be cautious, Somerset had his people don suits before they started major repair work. Not to mention ready an RCU, just in case. The engines and the inertial compensator had turned out to be the easy part. It was managing the SIF with the reactor link that was really tricky. For with the first two, it was merely replacing damaged components. The latter two needed constant minute adjustments, and this ships computer system just didn't support that. It might have before the run in with the Gamms, but it sure didn't now. Somerset cursed this ships computers and AI routines, as he started the next hour of being on his feet. He looked up at the time display on the ships Master Situation Monitor. For a moment, he felt a slightly unsatisfied at the MSM. Even in his younger days as a CEO, EarthCom ships had used holographic MSM's, capable of showing the ship in 3D, and zooming to any individual component onboard. However that flexibility was uneeded aboard a merchant ship. To save a few credits, the builders skimped on a flat-panel MSM display. "Cheap-skates," he muttered to himself as he punched in another flow correction to the reactor link. As he completed his task, Somerset noticed something. He wasn't sure what it was, only that it was wrong. The deckplates. Something felt wrong in the deckplates. What is it, though? he thought. "Computer, run a Level 4 diagnostic on the propulsion systems. Report any anomolies." "Acknowledged," the computer replied. It didn't have time to report. An alarm went off that Somerset had never heard in a real life situation. They didn't even use it in training excerises. It indicated a SIF failure in progress. "What the bloody hell now?!? Computer, report!" "SIF failure occuring on all decks. Estimate structural collapse in 5 minutes, 30 seconds." Somerset pressed some buttons on his console as his face contorted in concentration. The internal sensors were reporting the SIF field generators were all cracked in at least 3 places. How could they have missed this? Moreover, how in hell could they have survived this long with the SIF in that condition? There was no time to question that now, however. There was only time for action. "Somerset to Bridge. We've got an SIF failure in progress. There's no way I can stop it. Must've been a failure in the computer safety protocols to let something this major slip by-" The computer sounded it's warning chime again. "SIF failure, all decks. Estimate structural collapse in 5 minutes." "You heard it. This ship is done for. I advise making preparations to abandon ship. My people have suits on, so we'll stay here and try to hold her together as long as we can. Whether it's longer than the computer says or not, I'm not sure. We'll do our best. Somerset out." As soon as he cut the channel, he looked at the assorted faces around him, and said "Let's see if we can't keep this Beater together a little longer. Helmet up, in case we get into a vacuum. And activate your mag boots. No use getting your helmet on if you get to spend the rest of your days a Flying Dutchman." He pointed a small group of SE's, presumably from the Leo. "You five, get up to the fore section, and try to shore up those forcefields. The longer those stay up, the longer we can keep this bucket going. Everyone else, grab portable field generators. Once the hull starts going, the rest of the Guardian field might collapse, and open those breaches to space. We don't need the people we're trying to save to die of asphyxiation. Get moving, we don't have a lot of time." The computer chimed a warning again. "SIF failure in progress. Estimate structural collapse in 4 minutes, 30 seconds." "Not much time at all." [ 04-09-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]
  23. Happy Birthday, SC!! ------------------ Commander Benjamin Somerset GCV Swiftsure, Wraith HQ (Lyrius) Wing Leader - Wraith Fleet/SIN Wing Stealth is the only thing between you, and your enemy's guns.
  24. I'm forced to say that in this case, I agree with both Akira and Gallion. We should get this going again. And in this case, I think being in agreement with a pair of Insurgents won't earn me a quick court-martial. ------------------ Commander Benjamin Somerset GCV Swiftsure, Wraith HQ (Lyrius) Wing Leader - Wraith Fleet/SIN Wing Stealth is the only thing between you, and your enemy's guns.
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