|
Post by Ladorak on Aug 10, 2012 10:47:20 GMT -5
Caden's arm shot out and grabbed a hold of Evi's paw, stopping him before he could place the pawspike up above his head on the hooks. The albino shook his head. "Not there!" he said quickly. "If you put it up there, someone's likely to knock their head on it and see some real stars if they're running by. We need an absolutely unobstructed deck in combat. Toss it over there..." the marten pointed to where the other tools (ramrod and sponge) were lying in between two guns and rather near Ocean's footpaws. "No crew runs over there and it's out of the way. That's regulation." Caden informed the hedgehog.
He knew that Evi was new to the task, and probably hadn't gotten that part down yet. All tools had to be kept in between the guns and out of the way during battle. They got hung when the ship wasn't cleared for action.. As the ceiling was low above them, a running crew member could run into something hanging above him, or else Evi himself could knock his head on his own pawspike if he suddenly turned his head for whatever reason (or was thrown off balance by the broadside). It was just too dangerous, and Caden had to point that out before the hedgehog committed the error.
Selvis knew he could either hold on to his or toss it aside, and the albino knew he didn't have to inform the weasel on any of the rules, as Selvis was mostly good about that, as he was training to be a ship's corporal after all.
"PRIME!" The gun captains made their guns ready to fire, opening up the cartridges and inserting the quills. Small amounts of black powder were poured into the flash pans, and the guns were good to go.
Ocean was ready to release the rope at any minute, and Caden was proceeding to plug his ears with his paws. He did one last glance around to make sure everything was OK, and then the lieutenants shouted out "FIRE!"
Only the aft guns (about half the gun deck on the larboard side of the ship) roared forth this time, recoiling back with great force as they spat smoke and flame, sparks showering out the mouth and into the sea below as the solid shot sailed out toward the target vessel.
Once again they had to contend with some smoke being blown back into the deck, though fortunately it didn't linger, as the starboard gun ports were open as well, and created good cross ventilation.
As Selvis chocked the wheels, Caden opened his eyes further. He had been squinting to avoid the bright flashes (being very sensitive to high intensity light), and ran for the gun port to see the effect of their shot. He could see some of it striking the Guerrier, as that time there WAS visible debris being thrown about. Good!
The Gibraltar fired as well, bringing her heavier 80 gun broadside into the fray. "SERVE YOUR VENT!" Caden moved away from the gun port, nodding at his comrades as he moved by them and the vents were stoppered with the thumbs of the gun captains.
"SPONGE!" Ocean stepped back, taking the sponge from his assistant now that the train tackle was attached and the gun was once more immobile. His assistant had already dipped the sponge's end into the bucket, and it was soaked and ready for use.
The ermine pushed it down the barrel, wiping around inside the gun and moving all the way back to the chamber. He spun it around again, and moved it in and out a bit to make sure all sparks were out before he withdrew it and pawed it off to his assistant. "LOAD WITH CARTRIDGE!"
Caden saw no need to adjust the powder amounts they'd been using, as they were shooting long range anyway, and that always required the most amount of powder permissible for the gun. The powder carrier stepped forward, the loader received the canvas sack, and soon, both wad and cartridge were in the gun and Ocean was ramming them both in as far as they could go.
"Home!" the gun captain called out when he tested the vent with his priming wire.
"SHOT AND WAD YOUR GUN!" The loader took care of those bits (Caden watched him, slightly missing those days) and the ramrod was used once more, Ocean packing the two tight up against the first wad until he could feel no more give.
"And... standby!" the lieutenants called out. There were no targets at the moment to shoot at, as they had to catch up with the rest of the Rosferian fleet first. The Gibraltar was engaging the Guerrier now, but would soon pass on ahead as the Cumberland would be up at very close quarters with the Guerrier presently.
So they had earned a bit of a break for now. Caden stretched, standing on tip toes as best he could, then headed for the water cask amidships to get a drink. Dunking the tin cup into the clear water, he brought it to his lips, slaked his thirst, and then let it hang from its chain as he padded back to his battery. "Sorry for having been a little firm back there." he told Evi, giving the hedgehog a nod. "But I had to stop something dangerous from happening. We all have to look out for the safety of the crew after all." the albino nodded again.
"Hey! I think... I think that ship we captured is on fire!" Ocean exclaimed, squinting out the gun port to see. "Yeah! She's burning aloft!"
Caden's pink eyes widened at this. Aloft? That was bad... fires were notoriously hard to combat aloft. There was almost no way to get water up that high, and everything up there was highly inflammable. If the ship was burning from the rigging and masts... then good luck.
He jogged over briefly to see, and paused, his eyes drawn to the fire burning on the foremast and foretops of the Alcide. "Yeah... wow..." he said, nodding. "Take a look." he nodded for Ocean to do so, moving his own head back inside.
"That's so dangerous... I'm not sure there's much we can do except try and evacuate the crew somehow." Caden knew that the Victory was standing by close at paw, and she was one of the biggest ships in the fleet but still... they couldn't take all 600 crew aboard... that would be impossible. Other ships would need to pitch in... and they couldn't do that just now because they were fighting and focusing on bringing the Rosferian fleet to a decisive battle.
Caden wandered back over to his station, wiping his brow again. "Well we did what we could for now. Hopefully we can get alonside a ship and really start taking the fight to them." he said to Selvis (and partly to Evi, as he was close by too).
"I have to know my math as well." Ladorak said, smiling now as he folded his arms over his chest. "I need to calculate the angle of the sun in relation to the horizon of the earth, as well as caculate our ship's speed and heading to determine our location. While the Master usually does all the heavy lifting with that so to speak, a Captain always has to know it in case the Master is indisposed, or of course if he's off duty. One always needs a backup after all."
"Ah yes... fever... well malaria also involves quite a bit of retching and muscle aches too... hell it's rather a lot like the flu now that I think about it... except it keeps recurring and can't be cured." the monocled stoat pointed out, shrugging as well. "Can really only be treated with quinine."
He listened to Carrow ask if they could assist the Alcide at some point. "Well she has the Victory standing close to her, and as Admiral Mann's ship is most likely taking possession of her, they'll be the one responsible for that. Fire aloft is impossible to fight though. Hauling buckets up that high is always a risky proposition, and the ship's pump can't generate enough pressure to shoot water that high. No... once a ship catches fire aloft... all you can really do is pray at that point. The sails, rigging and masts just go up like torches." the stoat explained.
"You never want to be on fire aloft. Down below at least you have a chance. But what will happen is the blaze will spread, moving along the rigging and sails... embers will fall onto the deck and start catching fire there. If they can't be put out, or if a substantial line or sail or even a yard or mast falls onto the deck below... well that's a new fire you have to focus on. It'll keep spreading if unchecked, and eventually... if not put out... it'll reach the magazines."
He shook his head now. "We can't stop and go back... that'll be in complete disobedience to our orders. It's unfortunate but... this is war. Our job right now is to defeat and destroy our enemy. If we can't do that because we're stopping to assist a burning enemy ship... we lose the chance of inflicting a crippling blow. I have every intention of turning around and assisting once the battle is over however. You can rest assured of that. A burnt prize is no good to anyone, and those jacks will need assistance in evacuating, as there's no way the Victory can take them all aboard. Right now, it's up to her own crew and the Victory to assist her. But as said... there's little they can really do except try and haul buckets up the shrouds and try and get as close as they can to the fire without getting burned... fire is a bad business, and the greatest danger to us on these ships, which is why we're always so careful to ensure it doesn't occur." Ladorak told Carrow. "ESPECIALLY not aloft."
"All I can think of..." he continued, rubbing a paw under his chin now. "Is that somehow one of the grenades must've been lit but not thrown from the foretop. Perhaps the marine was killed before he could throw it... or perhaps he dropped it... but either way... SOMEHOW one of those grenades must've gone off, and that's all I can think of as to what caused that fire. Now normally you're supposed to wet the sails before battle but... maybe the Rosferians didn't do this... or maybe it's just so hot that the moisture isn't helping." he speculated. "Could be any number of reasons." he stated with a shrug.
"Worry not about this, young Carrow. Just focus on your job, and keep our ship right behind the Blenheim." he waved a paw at the three decker ahead of them. "If we get the opportunity... we WILL go back there to help them out, but ONLY then, and not before. Right now we have other prizes to take." he murmured.
He knew it would be hard not to think about it, but they could do nothing until ordered to. It was the Rosferians' own responsibility to fight the fire on their ship, and until the battle ended, the Welkinites were limited in what they could do. They HAD to chase their enemy down, as their enemy was not standing and fighting (and who could blame them? They were heavily outnumbered after all). Ladorak partly fought to end the fighting itself. If the Rosferian fleet could be taken or destroyed here... then their job would be complete.
Of course, it would be tragic if that ship did blow up... but that was part of war. Everyone knew what they were signing up for when they did. You just had to take all of it as it came, and thank your lucky stars that it wasn't YOUR ship that was on fire. The majority of the Welkinite fleet was still way back after all, and had a greater chance of assisting the Alcide if Hotham ordered them to do so, but once again, they'd be extremely limited in assistance aside from helping with evacuation if it came to that.
A few shots whizzed overhead, whistling as they cut some of the Agamemnon's rigging and ripped a few holes in the sails. That had been from the Guerrier. Her forward guns had gotten off a few shot in their direction after all. Immediately, the boatswain had reacted, and was ordering the crew that was up in the tops to begin splicing and repairing the severed lines.
Alleline sprang to the task, collecting extra bits of rope to splice the lines together again, as it was often the crew who could make repairs the fastest in combat who held the advantage.
"Well..." Ladorak said, raising a brow. "We finally took some damage. Nothing too serious though, from the looks of it. Yes, that's right... about what you said earlier. As the Heureux's being taken care of, I intend to engage the Mercure along with the Blenheim... as I'm sure Captain Bazeley's picked her out as his target as well. We'll just start double teaming these enemy ships... or at least... that's how I'd fight the battle if I were in command of the fleet." Ladorak stated to his quartermasters, giving them a firm nod and a smile. "The Gibraltar can pass on ahead of us and engage the next ship in line... whatever it may be."
|
|
|
Post by Carrow on Aug 13, 2012 8:22:54 GMT -5
Evi froze when Caden put his arm out to stop the hedgehog from acting. His paw was grabbed hold of, and he tried to bring his brown eyes to meet the albino marten's pink ones, but he was finding it difficult to do, both because he was embarrassed about his mistake... and because the mustelid's preventative action had brought back some unpleasant memories from his past. He flinched, and to Selvis it looked like Evi was afraid that the Midshipjack would hit him. He knew Caden wouldn't, of course, as that wasn't how things worked, and also because Caden wasn't that kind of creature, but seeing the hedgehog's reaction worried the weasel slightly.
Evi nodded sadly as he heard the pine marten correct him on his mistake. He could have injured somebeast else, or even himself; he realised that now. Would have served me right if that had happened to me, he thought, frowning before it dawned on him that the albino wasn't going to hit him. "Sorry, sir...," he said softly as he tossed his spike over to the other tools, blushing. Usually a raised paw in his direction meant that he would be the recipient of a slap or smack, but all he had done this time was react on instinct. "Won't happen again..." He sounded a lot more timid than usual, and he received a concerned look from Selvis. He shook his head, as if to say he were fine, before dashing back amidships to the water casks. He needed to pull himself together.
The longtail wondered why exactly the hedgehog had reacted in that way, but he reminded himself that he knew little of his friend's past. Evi preferred not to discuss such things, which made his reaction even more puzzling. He put it out of his mind momentarily, knowing that he had other things to attend to. The guns were being primed, and the mustelid braced himself for their firing. When they did discharge their shot, he took off amidships, keeping a tight hold of his pawspike until the moment was right to throw. The weapon ground to a halt, and was secured with the train tackle once again, before the weasel raced for the gun port, taking a peek after Caden to see if their shot had struck home this time. It had, and this had a visible effect on the mustelid.
He returned to his usual position to find the mouth of the gun being sponged down. Evi still hadn't returned; the hedgehog was still slaking his thirst. He needed to calm down first before anybeast else saw him in this state. He needed to push those memories out of his mind before coming back, and he tried to focus on better things for the moment. Selvis, meanwhile, watched as the wad and cartridge were loaded into the gun and rammed home. It was at this point that Evi returned to him, padding slowly over to his spot on the left side of the gun, gazing down at his footpaws. The weasel felt like he needed an explanation for what had occurred, but was hardly going to press the nervous creature about it. The guns were shotted and wadded, and finally a break was called for. Selvis knew there were no more targets to fire at for the moment. He wanted to talk to Evi, but realised Caden would probably want a word with him first.
The marten went to get a drink, and Selvis simply stood close by the hedgehog, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder and a warm smile. Evi tried his hardest to return the latter gesture, but it was clear that something was bothering him. At the same time, though, he didn't really want to talk about that right now, but then Caden returned, and the hedgehog realised that he'd probably have no other choice but to open up. He wasn't as reluctant to talk about his Dibbunhood as, say, Carrow had been a while back, but this was the sort of thing that rarely came up. He nodded when Caden apologised for how he'd acted. "It's OK, sir - it was my fault, and I should have known better," he said simply. Before he could say anything further, though, Ocean pointed out that one of their prizes was on fire. He accompanied the others over, but let Caden and Selvis take their turns in investigating what had happened before he chanced a look.
The weasel was in agreement with Caden's assessment of the situation. "We have to try and rescue as many of the crew as we can. Not necessarily us, of course, as the Victory's far closer to the Alcide than we are, but there's... hmm, definitely more than 500 on that ship, and even if we can get only a fraction of that amount to safety, then we'll have done something right. Unfortunately, though, we have to concentrate on the battle for now," he said, sighing a little as he followed Caden and Evi back over to their stations. "Yes, that'd be good - long-range fighting's not going to get us anywhere in a fight like this," he murmured. His hedgehog friend took up his position; he'd only talk about what had happened if either the albino marten or long-tailed weasel raised the issue. They were still in the midst of a battle, after all, downtime or not - maybe now wasn't the time.
--
"Of course, yes," Carrow said with a small smile. "I've picked up a thing or two since I started working under the different Quartermasters on this ship, and, well, it's quite interesting to me. I was never the sharpest knife in the drawer when it came to that, as said, but it's always been something I've been intrigued by, sir" he told the stoat Captain, listening as he was reminded of all the things that Ladorak needed to know how to do in his job. "Indeed, one always does need a backup; I'm in the same position myself as I work as a Quartermaster's Mate now. Most of my job consists of learning and paying attention, but I get paws-on training as well, as I'd need to know what to do if an on-duty Quartermaster got injured or was otherwise indisposed," the mouse said, nodding.
"Yes, the two ailments are similar in a number of ways, but at least there's a much lesser risk of your condition acting up in a climate like this, right? If we were on Personza again this year, then it'd be a completely different story, and I probably would have come down with something worse as well, but it's not like that at all," he said with a small smile. "It's nowhere near as humid here, to begin with, and even though it gets quite hot here during these months, at least there's a nice breeze here to counteract that, something I'm sure my companions below me are thankful for," he commented, chuckling.
He listened as the stoat Captain told him that there was pretty much nothing they could do for the moment - well, except pray, of course, but Carrow was going to leave that to somebeast who actually had faith. His features fell slightly, the field mouse unwilling to speak until the mustelid had finished doing so. He was also wondering why the fire had started, and the only theory Ladorak could come up with was one which hinted at the blaze being started purely on accident, which made the rapidly spreading fire seem even more tragic in his eyes. If it reached the magazines, the Alcide would be gutted. Right now, the rodent felt powerless, but he knew that was only because, well, he was.
The mouse had to try and put the predicament of the creatures on board the Alcide out of his mind for now, otherwise he knew he'd probably lose the run of his emotions somewhere down the line. It was hard for him to ignore what was going on over there, especially so because the gun crews were now on standby, but he knew he had to stay focused, because if he couldn't do that, then he couldn't do his job properly and was of no use. "I'll try to, sir," he said, trying to get his trembling voice under control and return to the task at paw. It was tough, though, because when it came down to it, he would rather the 'enemy' get killed in regular combat - something he had just about become used to at this point in time - not in freak accidents like this.
He cared not what happened to the ship itself, because it seemed like her fate was sealed... but the crew's wasn't. It was certainly out of HIS paws, though, so he couldn't get too hung up on it. Instead, the rodent returned his attention to what was going on around him, and watched as shots struck the Agamemnon's rigging and ripped holes in the sails. That had been unexpected, but it sounded like she had gotten the better of that exchange, judging by the reaction he had heard from below . The Agamemnon's payload had definitely struck home with more force this time, at least. She'd been lucky to avoid being hit until now.
"You're right, sir - that's not really much to be worried about," Carrow agreed, as the damage to the ship from those shots had only been minor. "We just need to press on and try to come up alongside a Rosferian ship - this long-distance firing isn't really yielding the desired result for either side." He nodded enthusiastically in response to Ladorak's plan. "That sounds like a good strategy to me, sir. Try to team up with another of our ships to take on the Mercure... that'd mean we'd be doubly effective, at least in theory," he commented, grinning. The Welkinite fleet could come away from this fight with something yet... but the Alcide remained important, because literally every ship involved would need to get clear of it before it went up - which seemed inevitable at this stage.
|
|
|
Post by Ladorak on Aug 13, 2012 12:35:31 GMT -5
"Oh you wouldn't have to worry too much about that." Ladorak responded to Carrow. "If a quartermaster went down in combat, one of the others would be replacing him in a matter of seconds. They're constantly ready to take over the ship's wheel in the event of just such an occurrence. However... more likely than not the wheel will be smashed, in which case we'd have to steer the ship from the tiller down below." he pointed out.
"Actually, this climate is borderline problematic for me." Ladorak informed the mouse. "Any semi-tropical place will do it. I do experience some days where I become very ill, though it hasn't come back to haunt me in a major way since last year. Extreme duress can trigger it as well... though battles like this don't typically cause that." He cracked a smile, his eyes flashing a little. "It's more having to do with... uncooperative superiors, shall we say." he murmured, not of course naming said uncooperative superior. Earlier this year he'd learned that Hood had been relieved, and was indeed not returning to his fleet. Ladorak had lost his mentor and superior who had the best chance of pushing him onward to great things. Hotham just... wasn't doing it for the mustelid.
The repairs directed by the boatswain were progressing rapidly, and with the usual alacrity by the crew aloft. Lines were being spliced, as cut lines were useless and the ship would be unable to operate if too many of them were just left riven.
"Ahem." Ladorak cleared his throat as he heard Carrow's less than wholesome response. "I'm sure you WILL." he replied to Carrow's "I'll try." Ladorak knew that Carrow still didn't seem to have quite the stomach for a number of things, but he couldn't and shouldn't be sweating over the things he had no control over. If the Alcide burned up or exploded, it was no different than the crew getting slaughtered from enemy fire. It was just another product of the combat they were in, and Carrow needed to start realizing that there were few things actually pleasant about combat. If he couldn't stomach it and get used to it, he'd truly picked the wrong profession.
"I need the quartermasters and indeed everyone on this ship to be as alert and focused as possible. When you aren't... well..." he pointed back to the burning Alcide. "That happens." he said simply. "This is no joke, and you just have to focus on helping out your comrades by doing your part for the rest of the ship." he explained.
He nodded, smiling again. "Aye, that it is. Very effective at bringing ship-to-ship combats to a conclusion, though the same can be said for any battle really. You focus on the weak points and exploit them. In this manner, an inferior enemy can sometimes overcome a superior one."
Before he could continue speaking however, Ladorak's attention was diverted by a cry from aloft. "Sir! Victory is signaling from Admiral Hotham that the action is canceled. All ships are to reform the line of battle!"
"WHAT!?" The stoat almost felt his heart stop at these words. "Are you ABSOLUTELY certain?" he asked incredulously. "That doesn't even make any sense!" he snapped. He charged up the stairs to the poop deck, calling for the Master's spyglass. The Master quickly pawed it over, and he wrenched the device outward, holding it up to his good eye.
The Welkannia was barely visible on the horizon, having been left far behind by her sluggish sailing. Her hull was a speck, but the Victory was much closer. Sure enough... Hotham's orders were flying from the Victory's yards. All ships withdraw... action terminated. "What in the bloody hell...?" Ladorak asked in a low voice.
The Cumberland had just pulled alongside of the Guerrier, and appeared to be delivering heavy broadsides into the Rosferian ship now, which was fighting back fiercely. "Dammit..." closing the spyglass, Ladorak could see to his dismay that the ships ahead of him were starting to turn around by means of wearing.
That was bad... if Ladorak chose to disobey the order, he risked of course the strictest of punishments... and on top of that, his ship would be unsupported by the others. WHAT was Admiral Hotham thinking? Why cancel the action when they were so close to drawing up with the Rosferian rear? Snarling, the stoat looked up at the sails now, noticing they were suddenly being taken aback with a shift of the wind.
The wind had moved from the north to the east, or blowing directly over their bow. "Check course!" Ladorak called down to the quartermasters. "Bring us about! Bring us to a westerly heading. Let's put before the wind!" He moved down the stairs to the quarterdeck now, sighing heavily. "Dammit!" he swore again. "If Admiral Hood were here, not a single one of these Rosferian ships would be escaping! DAMMIT!" He stomped his footpaw on the deck angrily, baring his teeth and snarling again as he watched the Rosferian ships ahead of him... so close and yet... so far.
As the wind was blowing directly in front of them now, the Rosferians too were turning, though they were turning to the north, in order to head to Fréjus and escape. They were coming onto a starboard tack, whereas the Welkinites would be putting before the wind and sailing away to the west. What was going on in that capybara's mind? Why had Hotham canceled things? It didn't make any sense! "Adjust course for the Alcide." Ladorak said in a defeated tone. "Let's see if we can't lend some assistance. If only we'd turned to pursue them when we FIRST saw them last night! Instead we spent two hours uselessly forming a line!" The stoat's chagrin was evident now, a shake of his head and the look on his face indicating his frustration. They needed those two hours back... now more than ever. Two hours would've brought about a general action, and would've made it next to impossible for Hotham to have disengaged his fleet at that point.
Interestingly enough, Captain Rowley on the Cumberland seemed to be disobeying Hotham's orders. His ship was hotly engaged with the Guerrier now, and he was probably saying that the capybara could go to hell for all he cared. However, Admiral Mann was now repeating the signal to discontinue the action from Victory, and was specifically using the Cumberland's name now in her signals. The message now read "CUMBERLAND DISENGAGE." Captain Rowley finally started to back his ship's sails, and pull away from the Guerrier, much to his fellow captain's disgust, Ladorak was sure.
Thus it seemed that Captain Rowley had been robbed of his second prize of the day, for the Alcide had struck to him earlier. The Guerrier would escape, as would the rest of the Rosferian fleet for the second time this year. It was just beyond Ladorak's comprehension why Hotham was doing this. As it turned out, Hotham was falling so far behind he couldn't specifically see what was occurring with the battle, and he was growing concerned as to what was actually happening. He couldn't tell how close to shore his fleet was, and so, had simply decided to call things off for now rather than get left behind and fret over what his vanguard was doing. The Admiral of the fleet couldn't very well get left behind in a battle after all. At the same time however, he could've trusted his captains a little more to do what they did best. Micromanaging like this did NOT help to promote the successful outcome of battles. In Ladorak's mind, a captain's own personal initiative was often times the best thing in combat. He'd been performing well on his own, as had captains Rowley, Bazeley, Pakenham, Reeve, Troubridge, and Wells.
"Let's turn the wheel to the left." the quartermaster explained to Carrow. "We want to turn to starboard basically 180 degrees. Get 'er turned around and start heading for the burning ship."
The word was passed along to the gun decks below, and by and large the disappointment was rife. Caden himself could hardly believe what he was hearing. Discontinue the action? But they were so close! They'd spent the better part of the last 12 hours chasing the Rosferian fleet down, and now Hotham was just going to let them go? What kind of commander was he? Why couldn't they have Admiral Hood back? WHY was Hotham even being kept around?
Sighing, the marten buried his paws in his pockets, his shoulders slouching as his face fell. "Well... grab a mop everyone... let's get this sand off the floor. We'll secure the guns afterward if we're ordered to." He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking on things. What a waste! Another opportunity to destroy the Rosferians... gone! That was twice in just ONE year! Already he could feel the ship turning around under their paws.
Ocean picked up a mop from amidships and began to run it around the deck, moving the sand toward the scuppers and drains.
Caden meanwhile was wondering about Evi, and why he seemed so timid and unsure of himself. Didn't he know what he was getting into when he enlisted? Scratching his head (it was very itchy under the hat), the albino could only speculate on Evi's past and background. You couldn't be weak out here though. This world was at war now... one needed to be strong in these times... but still... it was best to find out what was wrong. It was partly his job after all.
"Mr. Panettos..." Caden began, walking over to him. "Look... we seem to be around the same age... I was nervous too when I first joined the Agamemnon. I didn't mean to get strict there, but I sort of had to at the same time. Things can unravel rapidly in a battle, and while things can't be perfect, they have to be pretty close to it in order for the ship to fulfill its purpose as a fighting platform. I have to make sure my battery operates smoothly in combat so that accidents like what possibly occurred on the Alcide don't happen here. I didn't mean to be harsh. I hope this hasn't rattled you too much." he said, concern on his features, along with of course his disappointment over this battle... if one could even call it that.
|
|
|
Post by Carrow on Aug 15, 2012 18:59:31 GMT -5
"Good to know, sir," Carrow replied, nodding. "So I wouldn't need to do anything in the event of something like that happening." In a way, that was quite a relief for the mouse, who was getting better at dealing with high-stress situations but didn't feel adequately equipped to deal with something like that just yet. He was receiving the best of training, certainly - he regularly thanked his lucky stars that he'd ended up on a ship like the Agamemnon, and for more reasons than just that - but he was mostly working on generally building his confidence back up, as he had been worried about being rusty on the job today, after all. He seemed to be doing well so far, in any case, so things were going well.
The mouse was unable to keep from hiding a smile at Ladorak's reference to 'uncooperative superiors', knowing that they both had the same creature in mind. "Oh, well, I can certainly see how something like that would be stressful," he remarked, "but yes, it's like you said, I've never really known you to be all that stressed in the heat of battle. It's the environment in which you seem to thrive the most, at least in my eyes," he told his stoat Captain with a grin. "I'm glad the heat hasn't affected you too much, and well, the important thing is that you're up and about on a day like this, able to guide us with all of your expertise," he said brightly, eyes gleaming.
"Thanks, sir," the mouse responded gently, smiling after he had heard Ladorak out. The stoat's response had perhaps been a little more forceful than he would have liked, but the truth was that, just like when he and Ocean had had their talk nearly a week ago, he needed it; just like before, he was grateful for the support. "I know I have to stop letting the small things get on top of me. I know there could be worse things for me to worry about, after all. I feel a good bit better in myself now than I have for a while, but I know I tend to focus on things that shouldn't bother me. I should really start putting that kind of attitude behind me, because it doesn't need to be anybest else's problem," he admitted, still smiling, but already feeling better about things.
"Of course you'd say that, sir," he responded to the stoat's comment about that tactic, his smile growing. "You're earning a reputation for being quite the accomplished strategist, at least among my companions. You're making an impression on the lot of us, sir," he complimented the rust-coated mustelid. Ladorak had already proven his worth in that respect many times over, but the field mouse saw nothing wrong with divulging that bit of information to him, as he probably already knew that he was well-liked by the majority of, if not all, the crew. His harsh but fair outlook regarding punishments, his refusal to distance himself from his crew... all these were things which the others admired greatly, and Carrow knew that.
His ears twitched as he thought he heard an order coming down from below. It sounded like... the action had been... CANCELLED?! What in the...?! He could only speculate as to why Admiral Hotham had called things off, but... NO, dammit. This was not the way this was supposed to be. They were supposed to catch up with another Rosferian ship and engage her... they were supposed to at least have a shot at winning the battle, like last time. Not this... what even was this? Carrow was so confused that he felt there could be a headache coming on; trying to figure all this out was definitely making his head hurt, to the point where he desperately needed to focus on other things, but the fact that he had barely made it back to work in time for the battle, only for things to turn out this way, was a little too much for him to deal with.
The sole upside he could see to this fiasco was that they could now turn to assist the Alcide, but he knew that the ship was doomed, so it was now a matter of getting as many of her crew to safety. The ship would go up soon, he knew that for a fact, but her crew didn't have to go down with her. He was pleased that they could attend to that now, but he would much rather that it hadn't come about as the result of a ridiculous and completely inexplicable action by the capybara Admiral. He kept his ears open for another order from Ladorak, and nodded when Quartermaster Judson explained to him what he'd need to do next. He turned the wheel to the left, as instructed, and the ship soon started to move beneath his paws. Maybe this battle won't be a complete write-off after all... just maybe, he thought.
--
The word was being passed down below now, and Selvis froze when he heard the orders, his face a mask of disbelief. He had been ready to jump back into action and inflict some more damage on the Rosferians, but there was no chance of that now. He realised that the order could have come from only one creature, and this was almost too much for him to take. As though he were in a trance, the longtail simply stood where he was for a moment, unable and unwilling to believe that another chance to strike a serious blow against the Rosferian fleet - if not destroy it outright - had slipped through their paws... all because of that worthless Admiral Hotham.
"You've got to be kidding me...," he whispered, and suddenly it was like a switch had been thrown inside him. Placing his paws on his head, he gave vent to a roar of frustration. "What the HELL is that?! THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE ANY SENSE!," he shouted (unaware Ladorak was having the exact same reaction) distressed and upset after his rush of adrenaline had been swept away from him to be replaced with a profound sense of disappointment. He didn't need to move just yet, as there were no orders forthcoming from Caden, and this was good because he couldn't have brought himself to move if ordered to. He was in a shattered state of disbelief, all the energy seeming to drain away from him. Whereas before he had been full of it, right now he felt as through he were running on empty.
He started to calm down - or at least gave the outward appearance of doing so - as Caden gave the order for them to get mops and start clearing away the sand. He couldn't speak his mind, because if he did, he knew he risked being discharged. That useless piece of excrement that passed for an Admiral had made another dreadful decision and once again robbed the Welkinite fleet of a golden opportunity to finally start making ground in this war. He went back amidships to retrieve a mop - after taking a drink to try and calm his nerves - and started to clear away the sand, guiding it towards the scuppers and drains. From the way his body trembled and shook, it was clear that all was not well with the mustelid. He held on to the map, careful not to accidentally snap the pawdle in two, but he had a lot of frustration that he needed to get out so couldn't make any promises. He also needed to think of something else but this... but right now it was impossible to think of anything else. All their work... gone.
Evi, meanwhile, was also frustrated by how the battle had been terminated for no apparent reason. The hedgehog had been ready to recover from his slip-up and get back to his usual standard of service, but now that Hotham had called things off, he wouldn't get the chance to, and he was disappointed that his last act of the battle had been to timidly toss his pawspike aside, removing the danger of an accident from the equation. He wasn't anywhere near as agitated by this unfortunate turn of events as Selvis was - he could see that the weasel was angry and barely capable of keeping a pawdle on his emotions - but the fact that his second battle in his new role had essentially been a dead rubber (after all, their only prize would surely be blown sky-high soon) wasn't helping his case much.
He'd taken a mop and had begun to clear away the sand from around him when he'd noticed Caden approaching him. Ah, so it seemed as though the marten wanted to have further words with him, and he could certainly hazard a guess as to what their discussion might entail. He saluted when the mustelid came up to him, and heard him out before responding, his voice soft; he still sounded unsure of himself, but was going to try and explain things to his superior officer the best he could. "I know you have to ensure that things run smoothly down here, sir, but if I'm honest, I'm not in the slightest bit put out by the fact that I made that small mistake. I could have done without it, but I'm still learning, and I'm very grateful to be working under a creature such as yourself."
He tensed up slightly, clearing his throat before speaking again. "What did rattle me, sir, was that you raised your paw against me, to stop me from placing that pawspike up there. Now, I realise you acted on the spur of the moment, but... but I have plenty of bad memories associated with that gesture... all because of one creature," he said darkly. "I was all but convinced you were going to hit me. I know that that can sometimes happen if I'm slow on the uptake - I can get hit with a starter or something like that - but I usually try to avoid that if I can. I'm no slouch, sir, and I can move quickly when I have to. Thing is, though... I have a history of being physically abused, sir, and it was never with anything like a starter. I used to get a slap or smack from my birth mother when I acted up, but that was normal. I could live with that - I was prone to getting up to mischief back when she and Dad were together," he informed Caden, frowning a little.
"They separated when I was nine, though; she left him, saying there was no spark in their relationship anymore, but he wanted to give it another try, and ended up marrying a hedgehog jill who seemed to hate me from the moment she met me. She didn't have any time for me, and slapped me whenever I did even a small thing she didn't approve of. It got worse when I turned ten. She beat me regularly from then on - black eyes, bruises, broken ribs and claws... plenty of scarring too." He turned around so that Caden could see the ugly bruises and scars that were quite visible even through his quills. "She inflicted all this with only her paws... so now I'm reminded of that whenever somebeast raises their paw like that, as if to strike me. You weren't really harsh, sir... but I only reacted that way because of... those flashbacks," he finished, sighing heavily as he continued his work.
|
|
|
Post by Ladorak on Aug 16, 2012 13:50:57 GMT -5
The Agamemnon had turned around, and was working its way back east now, having put itself directly before the wind. They were on what was called a "run", with the wind coming directly astern. The yards were squared, in order to fully catch the breeze. It also meant that the Rosferians kept the weather gage for this battle. Luck was certainly on their side here... in more ways than one.
Alleline was making his way down from aloft in order to assist in other things now, such as retrieving the Captain's belongings from the hold (as clear for action would most likely be canceled soon).
Down below, Caden's face fell a little as Evi explained his situaiton to him. "I wasn't going to hit you..." he explained after the hedgehog had finished. "I think I've rarely if ever employed such a tactic. Grabbed your arm to stop you, yes... and maybe I'd push you out of the way onto the deck if there was danger but... no." He shook his head. "Wasn't gonna hit you."
"Well... my mom didn't take care of me either." the marten explained. "She... was a heavy drinker, and somewhat insane as well. I just... I remember the times she was normal... but I know she just didn't really take care of me to the extent I needed. She died when I was four... so I guess that doesn't matter too much. That was ten years ago... but because of that... I never had any parents growing up. That's why I owe so much to the Captain for taking me in. He... really saved me, and gave me this opportunity to work aboard his ship."
"It seems we've got our lucky breaks then. The navy; that gave us the opportunity we needed. It's just gonna take awhile for everyone to learn the ropes, as they say. I STILL don't know what each and every line on the ship is called and what it does." he said, smiling and blushing. "Lines are... kind of my weak point... so it's a good thing I'm not trying to be the ship's boatswain or anything." he rubbed the back of his neck now, looking down.
As Ocean mopped, he glanced over at Selvis, noticing how tightly the weasel gripped the mop. He had had an outburst... and Ocean had much felt the same way, though hadn't given vent to his emotions. He picked up the sponge and placed it on the hooks above his head, and then did the same for the ramrod so that he could mop the area in between the guns.
"Hey Selvis... I know you're upset... but are you OK?" the ermine asked, pursing his lips and frowning a little in concern. "You uh... you seem really angry. I guess... I guess I can't blame you." Ocean said. "I don't know why the battle was canceled either. It seems like... well a waste to be honest with you. The one prize we secure is burning... and we never even got a chance to really pitch in and fight! We didn't even take any casualties, I don't think."
Indeed... the butcher's bill for this "battle" was rather pathetic for Welkin's side. 2 killed and 5 wounded on Captain Troubridge's Culloden, 5 killed and 15 wounded on the Victory (the ship that had suffered heaviest), 2 killed and 2 wounded on the Blenheim, 1 killed and none wounded on the Captain (ship that had suffered lightest), and 1 killed and 6 wounded on Defence. Cumberland had amazingly enough not taken any losses, despite her being so closely engaged with two separate Rosferian ships. Captain Rowley's ship had been hit exclusively in her rigging and sails, and had suffered no hits to her hull, thus saving the lives of her crew. Grand total: 11 killed, 24 wounded.
Culloden had lost her main topmast, and Victory had lost her main topgallant yard and fore topsail yard, as well as spritsail yard, but no other ship in the Welkinite Navy had lost a spar today. It certainly wasn't an impressive "victory" by any stretch of the words.
Above, Ladorak was still fuming. He was clenching his paws into fists, and shaking his head as he looked ahead of them to the burning Alcide. Her sails were going up like bonfires, and the whole upper part of the ship was catching ablaze. Already he could see fires breaking out on the hull itself, as embers and flaming debris fell from aloft and caught her main deck on fire in multiple places.
"By fates... we've got to get over there... her crew's going to be trapped soon. Those that can't make it into the water will burn alive... or perish in the explosion." he mumbled, shaking his head again.
If only... if only Admiral Hood were here. This would NOT have occured. They wouldn't be turning around now... they'd be harassing the Rosferians' rear and gradually bringing each ship to battle until it struck. Their previous battle had been equally as pathetic in Ladorak's eyes. Their only two prizes had been far to leeward and separated from the Rosferian main body. It hadn't even been a proper fleet engagement. This... well he wasn't even sure what to call this!
"Thank you... for saying so... earlier." Ladorak replied to Carrow. "I try my best..." He said, his voice weaker now and sounding hoarse. "Bring us to starboard a little. Point our bows at the Alcide... then we'll bear off a bit once we get closer." the stoat Captain ordered.
His best never seemed to be good enough though... if only General Chase had been ordered right away... Agamemnon could've been up front and not stuck way back in seventh in line. The fact that he hadn't managed to pass all the 98s in the fleet before the battle began certainly said something. 98s were notoriously slow sailers after all, and Agamemnon had been just too far away and hadn't had enough time to make up for lost ground.
"I guess one should be careful what they wish for." Ladorak said, offering a wry smile. "You wanted to help them... we'll get our chance... too bad it only comes about at the expense of canceling the entire battle. Certainly NOT an auspicious year this has been." the stoat shook his head again. "I just... can't understand why Hotham would do that. Because he can't see what's going on?" the mustelid snorted here. "Well... I'M not the one who chose the SLOWEST ship in the fleet to be my flagship." he said derisively. "Could've transferred his flag to Victory after all... which clearly can keep up with the best of them."
Welkannia carried heaiver guns than Victory did, despite both three deckers being 100 gunners. The extra weight slowed Welkannia down, and it certainly was living up to its reputation! Admiral Mann should've been ordered into the Welkannia in Ladorak's opinion. But no... Admiral Hotham just wasn't taking his job seriously enough. He saw himself as a temporary commander... one who wouldn't be here by the end of the year. Instead of doing the practical thing and acting like a leader, he instead chose to just keep his old flagship and not transfer to the faster and more well suited Victory.
"I suppose I shouldn't be talking though... bad for morale and all. Have to have faith in our dear, devoted Admiral." Ladorak's words were still laced with acid, though he was trying to keep a hold on it. But it was just hard to shake the feeling that his worst fears had been realized. He'd had his doubts about the capybara well before Hood had been relieved of his command. Here they were now... under Admiral Hotham, and in no less than TWO fleet engagements (far more than one usually got in a year) they had taken a measly three prizes... two because Alcide would most likely be blowing up at at some point.
Three ships out of 19 altogether in the Rosferian fleet. And the Rosferians would only build and complete more. There was an 80 on the stocks that they knew about in Toulon. That ship would be launching soon. Ladorak was sure of that. If they couldn't get them now... it would be increasingly more and more difficult to do so as time went on.
First things first though...
"Lift the clear for action. Get the ship back to 'peace' settings." He turned to Carrow now. "You're technically off duty for the Afternoon Watch. We've got a little over an hour left before supper. You can stay here or you can take the time you have. Choice is yours." he told the mouse.
|
|
|
Post by Carrow on Aug 20, 2012 14:06:46 GMT -5
"Yes, in hindsight it certainly doesn't seem like something you would do, sir," Evi responded, nodding calmly, evidently a lot more at ease than he had been a few moments previously. "It's taken me a while to come to terms with what happened to me, and I still associate that gesture with being hit or otherwise physically harassed. "I've never seen creatures treated like that around here unless they absolutely deserve it, and I understand why you did what you did. It's something I still have to deal with, but those scars are starting to heal, and knowing there are creatures like you around to look out for me is something that definitely helps. You were only doing what you thought was best, and if I'd done myself an injury I would only have had myself to blame, so thank you, sir."
He nodded as Caden explained his own difficult family history. "Well, I have noticed every now and then that yourself and Captain Fugate appear to be rather close to each other, but until now I never knew that he was your adoptive father. That makes a lot of sense. Of course you're thankful for that opportunity, and look where you are now!," he said with pride in his voice, smiling at the pine marten as he continued to work away. "Taking you in was one of the best decisions he's made in his life; it certainly seems that way to me, even though I don't know him all that well, admittedly," he said, shaking his head slightly. "As for me, I was never given an opportunity like this - I saw one appear, and I ran to meet it, quite literally. This was never, ever part of the plan," he admitted.
He returned to listening to his superior officer speak, and found that his thoughts were running along pretty much the same lines, so to speak. "Yes, we both got our second chance, sir. It's taken me a while to pick certain things up - I didn't expect to be so eager to serve on your gun crew when Polly was discharged last year, but it just felt right for me. I acted on impulse, and that's basically the story of my last two years. I was not prepared for this, and I'm aware of how lucky I am to still be a member of the crew. There are times I wonder what the hell I'm doing, but it doesn't really matter, because even if I make mistakes along the way, I still enjoy it," he said, sniffling somewhat. Opening up about this was providing him with an emotional release, but he was good at masking this, for the most part.
Selvis, meanwhile, shook his head when asked if he was OK, sighing heavily before responding, taking a moment, in an attempt to compose himself, before responding again. "I wish I could say I was, Ocean, but I'm not. You're damn right I'm angry. We hunt those damn Rosferians for almost a week, and this is what we get? Barely a jot of combat, and long-range contact at that? And why? Well, we don't know why - I'm sure our Captain would have a better idea than the rest of us, as he has a good view of proceedings from up above, but I bet he's every bit as in the dark as we are. What the hell is Hotham playing at? I'm sure he wants to be taken seriously as an Admiral, but he's pulled us out of combat not once, but TWICE in the last FOUR months. Just what the hell is that all about?!"
There was a lot of pent-up frustration within the longtail, and he seemed far more critical of the capybara's methods than he had been the last time this had occurred. He had been capable of understanding why this had occurred the first time, but there was just no feasible explanation for this. He listened to Ocean as he continued working away, clearing the sand from beneath his paws with a ferocity that suggested he was trying to take his frustration out on his work. "If it seems like a waste, that's because it is. That's not the fault of anybeast on this ship. Hell, it's not even the fault of anybeast in this entire fleet! It's ALL because of that clueless Admiral! I know I'm supposed to respect him, but how can I when he screws up like this?
"Had we actually gotten a chance to do some proper fighting, I wouldn't be quite as... well, as completely flabbergasted as I am right now. We had a good run of things in our last battle, after all, before he called things off. This time, though, it's like we didn't fight at all. NO casualties, NO close-range combat, and NO prizes taken that aren't about to be gutted by fire in a few moments. We will hopefully be able to rescue a few fortunate souls on the Alcide, but as far as our own situation is concerned, we've come away from this battle with absolutely nothing, and there's only one creature to blame. If we never got a chance to gain anything here, then it's like it never happened. Just..." He trailed off, looking dejected as he focused on his work. Well... this had barely seemed worth it. It was hard to admit, but it was the truth.
--
Carrow was also keeping a close eye on the status of the Alcide, and the outlook wasn't good for the ship - or indeed, may of her crew. Ladorak was right; they needed to get over there as soon as possible. Their salvaging anything from the absolute shambles that had been the previous few hours depended on that. He shook his head sadly. One could no more prepare for something like this than they could the increasingly erratic behaviour of Hotham. "Yes, we do indeed need to get over there. Just tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it," he told the stoat, giving him a game smile as he tried to keep his spirits up.
"Well, if you can try your best, sir, it's good enough," he assured the mustelid, still smiling. He was starting to take that advice too; he didn't want to continue holding himself up to others' standards, otherwise he'd just constantly continue to let himself down. He didn't want any more of that, because he knew that he was his harshest critic. He nodded as Ladorak gave him his next set of instructions, turning the wheel to larboard and feeling the ship start to turn under his paws again as the ship was gradually brought to starboard. As he worked, he listened to the stoat Captain's words, and it sounded like he had a lot to say; the field mouse did too.
"Yes, I suppose so, sir," Carrow admitted, blushing slightly and shifting from one footpaw to the other. "In any case, I don't think there's any creature on the ship who wouldn't want to do whatever possible to try and assist those on the Alcide. It's quite a shame that we only get to do so at the cost of the entire engagement being cancelled, and I must admit that I find myself quite disappointed by the outcome of this... whatever it is. I'm not going to call it a battle. A skirmish, then? Yes, I think that's a more accurately description of this excuse for a conflict," he said derisively.
Blast that confounded capybara! He seemed intent on hampering his own fleet and keeping it from reaching its full potential, and this was not something that sat well with the rodent. That's what he was in the Navy for, after all, and even if he knew he was still quite a long way of from ever achieving that - if he even did - the chances of it happening under the hopeless Hotham were close to evaporating at this point. "Yes, that was definitely a foolish move. He can hardly expect to be able to keep up with us if he's going to be making decisions like that." He was going to say more, but just talking about that creature was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Ladorak's sarcastic description of the capybara of dear and devoted made the mouse smile.
"The way I see it, sir, somebeast has to speak out about this, and I'm glad it's you doing it. I hardly expect you to stand idly by after Hotham's shot himself in the footpaw twice in a few months. This won't do anything for him in the long run - you saw what Captain Rowley did after Hotham gave the order for the battle to be terminated, right? His standing has already been damaged, and regardless of what that does for morale, we should just face the facts. I mean, maybe he'll be able to turn things around, but I'm not going to hold my breath. I'm sorry if I sound like I'm overstepping the line, but certain things just cannot be left unsaid between you and I - not after today. We hold our superior officers up to a higher standard, after all. We've been let down and frustrated once again, and it's very hard not to say anything. I've said what I've needed to say now, anyway," he told the stoat, shaking his head again.
The mustelid then gave the order to lift the clear for action, and Carrow nodded as his choice was outlined to him. "I think I'd... like to stay put for now, sir; see what I can do to help out, and so forth. In a way, I'd like to make up for some of the time I missed during my stay in the Sick Berth. Now that I'm back working, I should put a slightly longer shift in now and reward myself with the company of my friends at supper later on," he explained, smiling. He knew he'd be able to eat with Caden, Selvis, Ocean and Alleline like he had this morning, and that was something he was looking forward to immensely.
|
|
|
Post by Ladorak on Aug 20, 2012 22:31:00 GMT -5
Caden was surprised at how well the hedgehog was taking things. His pink eyes widened a little, and then he smiled, nodding. "Well... thanks. I'm here to help after all. That's why I'm a lieutenant in training, you might say." he said, smile growing. "If you ever need anything, just ask. I promise I don't tend to strike unless absolutely required... and I've done that very rarely since becoming an officer."
He hadn't unfortunately had a chance to seek revenge on Spender. Even though the ferret was pathetically inept now, Caden had still been hoping for a chance to get back at him. At this point though, that was looking more and more unlikely. The marten was hardly vindictive by nature... but push a guy enough and you'd be surprised.
"It's good you enjoy it, in spite of the mistakes. We all made plenty starting out, after all. You just keep going and keep learning. You'll get it all down eventually. No worries on that end mate." Caden patted him on the back now, glad the hedgehog was sensible about this whole thing.
Ocean for his part nodded, frowning a little in regret as he heard Selvis go off. He was quite upset, and the ermine could see that. "Yes... I know... it just invalidates everything we've been working for. Certainly makes your efforts feel meaningless at times... but there's always a plan... even if it doesn't seem like it right now." he concluded.
"See... I know one day that Ladorak will become an admiral... I think two years from now is when he's due for promotion... and then... well... he can make his own policy and decision regarding any combats we get ourselves into. So this too is but a temporary setback. Granted... we might be regretting this later on, as an opportunity missed is an opportunity wasted but... I'm sure we'll recoup somehow in the future."
Indeed... destroying one Rosferian vessel out of seventeen seemed paltry indeed, and most certainly had little to do with the dreams of glory that Ladorak and many of the others had entertained when boarding the Agamemnon. "We can only move on from here... and hope that Hotham's days as our commander are numbered. Surely the Admiralty won't let THIS slide after all... he's only a temporary commander until someone more permanent can take his place... though at this rate, it looks like Hood isn't coming back to do that, unfortunately." he said with a sigh.
"Look... we all need a catharsis every now and then... I'm not blaming you for that... we all have no faith whatsoever in our admiral. He's failed us twice now, so we can't expect much from him. But... it'll pass. Everything passes, and here's hoping the next one to succeed him knows his trade." he offered the long tailed weasel a smile now, and a nod, continuing with his work of clearing the sand off the deck and looking forward to administering what aid he could to the Rosferian prisoners when they were brought aboard.
Ladorak felt much the same way as Carrow did about this. His own career was dead ended so long as Hotham was around... of that, the mustelid was convinced. They NEEDED a new admiral, and they needed one soon! Who was replacing Hood? When would he get there? This year had been critical in terms of encountering the Rosferians twice, and both times had been wasted so far. The new commander would have his paws full dealing with a mostly full strength Rosferian fleet, even if he DID outnumber them.
"I wouldn't worry about Captain Rowley, Carrow." Ladorak pointed out. "Unless of course you were talking about Hotham having his standing damaged with us, heheh. Captain Rowley can just claim he didn't initially see the order to withdraw... and there's no proof to the contrary of that, as far as I'm concerned. But yes... Hotham has certainly not won any favors with any of his captains... and Captain Rowley wasn't even part of our fleet originally. He arrived from the Channel with Admiral Mann's reinforcements. ALREADY he's not taking much of a shine to his new commander, or so it seems. Admiral Mann doesn't seem a very inspired choice either for next senior officer." Ladorak shook his head. All Admiral Mann had done was back his sails and ensure Victory didn't become too heavily engaged beyond what it had already done in order to stay in contact with Admiral Hotham and the Welkannia.
"At any rate, we'll keep this from getting too lengthy, as we can't be too critical in public after all. We'll just have to wait and see... maybe things will turn around after all, like you said." the mustelid gave the rodent a smile, and nodded, though it was clear he was still agitated with things.
Time passed, and they gradually grew closer to the now furiously burning Alcide. She was on fire in multiple places, and Ladorak ordered them to keep well off, as getting too close was far too dangerous. The Agamemnon's boats were lowered, and slowly, they began bringing swimming Rosferians back to their own ship. The Victory had already pulled many from the water, as had the Culloden and Cumberland, but it was hard to say just how many were still aboard the fiercely burning Rosferian 74.
She was a deadly inferno now, and a danger to all ships within close proximity of her. Caden assisted by taking command of one of the ship's boats and dragging as many from the water as he could. There were screams of course... screams of the dying that penetrated the crackling and fizzing of the flames. There were crew burning alive inside of her... and Caden couldn't think of a worse way to die right now.
He stayed focused though, and kept his boat running back and forth. Ocean stayed aboard the ship, helping to dry off the poor wretches who were streaming aboard. They were a sorry lot... their clothes were pathetic, and their hygiene was hardly any better. They stank worse than the Welkinites did, and it was clear that the living conditions on board a Rosferian warship were not of the best sort.
They huddled together, all dripping wet but grateful to be alive. They were prisoners of course, but Ladorak ensured they'd be treated kindly whilst aboard his vessel. They were extra mouths to feed however, and they needed to be put ashore at the earliest possible opportunity, as the ship's stock of food was first and foremost for its sailors, and not any "guests" they had aboard.
They managed to take aboard roughly 50 or so by 3:40, when the situation changed. Caden had just clambered back aboard as the Agamemnon was in the process of backing off due to the intensity of the flames and the concern over the magazine going up.
The Agamemnon stood off, having fished everyone out of the water that it could. Caden was watching now as the ship pulled away, watching as the flames continued to eat away at the Alcide.
As the albino watched, the ship suddenly tore itself apart in a massive explosion. First there was a flash, like the sun rising, and then a giant fireball burst upward and outward as the magazines went up. Hundreds of pounds of black powder were touched off, and Caden was blinded by the flash, his eyes extra sensitive to the light. It would cause the others to merely squint, but Caden cried out and held his paws up to his eyes. "Agh!"
Then the shock wave hit them all. They could all feel it in their chests, a force of air moving past them and kicking up visible albeit small waves. The Alcide's masts were blown in every direction, turned into matchwood, as was the rest of the ship. The shock wave wasn't enough to knock anyone off their paws, though it did blow Caden's hat clean off his head, scattering it onto the deck without the marten even realizing it.
Ladorak squinted, and said a silent prayer for those Rosferians still on board. Ocean began crossing himself, and muttering prayers for the deceased. It was over now... the flaming debris drifted back to the merciless sea, and soon, there was little left of the ship aside from embers and driftwood. 315 of her crew had died with her, consumed in the flash that had instantaneously ended their lives. 285 of them had been saved by the various ships in the fleet. Still, the Alcide had suffered over 50% casualties in this battle, and was no longer in existence either.
"Agh!" Caden gasped again, rubbing his eyes and trying to clear them. He blinked several times, and slowly, his vision returned. "Damn! Everyone OK?" he called out, and the crew began returning their affirmatives. They had been far enough away that the blast hadn't done any serious damage to any ship in the Welkinite fleet.
The marten continued to blink, trying to get used to everything around him, and to block out the light. He fumbled in his pocket for his glasses now, hoping to don them to give him at least some relief.
"May they rest in peace... their suffering is over now." Ladorak said solemnly, his face falling a little before he looked over the prisoners, and then at Caden, who seemed to be having some trouble finding his tinted glasses. His friends were around him though, so Ladorak knew he'd be getting help. He ached to help his ward... but he couldn't show favoritism here. He could reassure him in a few moments... but he had another job that was a bit more pressing.
"Dwell not on the deceased! You can do absolutely nothing for them now, and their suffering was ended swiftly. I don't need to remind any of you that this is war... and this is what can happen. We have a job to do... this ship needs to be kept running. Supper in fifteen minutes... let us prepare ourselves for our evening meal, and thank our stars or whatever you may believe in that THAT... was not us." he pointed to the wreckage of the Alcide now, and shook his head.
"To our new guests... you will be discharged in the first port that we come to... my guess is somewhere on Personza, where you will sit out this war until you are exchanged. We will feed and shelter you, but be advised ANY attempt at uprising will be met with deadly force and a full suspension of your rights. You surrendered after all, and I expect you to act like prisoners who keep their honor by surrendering. If you harm, steal from, or otherwise annoy my crew, you will be separated from the others and dealt with. So long as we understand each other, I will treat you according to the conventions of war. Enjoy our hospitality, and we will enjoy your company for as long as it lasts. You will be divided up among the other ships in our fleet, as I can't possibly sustain all fifty of you." he informed them, as per policy. 285 divided among 21 ships would be about 13 to 14 prisoners kept per ship.
"I feel your pain, comrades. Losing friends and brothers in arms is never a pleasant thing." a look of compassion crossed the stoat's features now. "I ache for every one of you that did not make it today... or who lost a friend. But some survived... to live on and fight on. And I have some good news as well." he said, nodding at the dripping prisoners.
One of the lieutenants translated for him, as the Captain's Rosferian was not the best. "Your captain I hear is alive and well... he's been taken on board the Victory. You all fought well... and this was not your fault. It could've happened to any ship... it just happened to yours. You should feel proud regardless, as you fought extremely well against overwhelming odds, and have not shamed yourselves in the slightest." This seemed to cheer the Rosferians up, and they nodded and talked amongst themselves a little. "This is cause for at least some mode of celebration, and you yourselves are alive and well too. Captain St. Hilaire will assuredly be moved to the Welkannia, where he will become Admiral Hotham's personal guest. We are having supper soon, and you will get a share of our rations. Now back to work everyone! We still have fifteen minutes left in the Afternoon Watch! Let's look sharp and remember that we are a ship in His Majesty's navy!"
Ladorak nodded firmly, and walked over to the others. Caden had finally managed to get his tinted glasses on, much to his relief. "How's everyone holding up?" he asked, looking at each of them in turn. Caden waited... as he wanted to let the others speak up first before he did so. it had been horrible but... the albino was just glad he couldn't actually see the death... only the destruction first paw. He was also intensely relieved that all of his friends were alive and around him and well. Something like that just reminded you about what you still had... and that you should never take it for granted. He was sure many of the Rosferians had lost their friends today, and he was grateful he wasn't standing in their shoes right now. He was also grateful that Captain St. Hilaire was alive... he had no idea why... but the Rosferians HADN'T lost their captain at least, even though they had lost their ship. That was something too, as Ladorak had pointed out.
|
|
|
Post by Carrow on Aug 23, 2012 9:16:51 GMT -5
Caden wasn't the only one helping the prisoners out; Carrow and Evi had taken another boat (being small creatures, they decided to save space and share a boat) and gone out to assist the floundering Rosferian prisoners. They had enjoyed the brief rest they had gotten, but now it was back to work, and Carrow was getting to do what he had wanted, at least to an extent. He already knew that most of the crew was doomed, and was trying to deal with the fact that if they hadn't made it into the water now, they wouldn't stand a chance. He assisted some of the lighter Rosferians into the boat, not wanting to risk going overboard by taking on more than he could pawdle. Evi was more heavily-built than his mouse friend, and so could assist those whom the rodent could not.
Selvis wanted to go also, but he knew that the creatures who were brought aboard would need proper care, so he stayed behind with Ocean whilst his friends made several trips back and forth. He helped to dry them and watched over them as they huddled together for warmth, shaking his head sadly as he regarded them. Things would have been different if this unfortunate occurrence had not happened: the ship would have been captured, yes, but the circumstances would have been different. He tried to keep their spirits up by sitting close by them and offering them reassuring smiles, but he couldn't really do anything else for the moment.
Carrow was doing his best to comfort those he took aboard, too. He knew that they were on the opposite side in this war, certainly, but when it came down to it, they were no different than him. A few of them were scared, others sobbing, and still others too shocked to speak. The rodent did of course know what was coming next; it was inevitable at this stage, and he was bracing himself for it. He wasn't going to be the one to break down in tears when the Alcide went up; the sight would be harrowing, certainly, but it'd be too predictable if he did that. He made it back aboard after assisting the Rosferians onto the Agamemnon, and it wasn't long before it happened. The field mouse had just eased himself into a sitting position near Caden (with Evi standing near Selvis), when the Alcide ripped itself apart in an explosion that left the mouse stunned.
He put his face in his paws, unable to look; the sound was just enough for him to bear. His flat cap was swept off his head without his knowledge as the shock wave hit the ship, and the rodent was lucky he was sitting down, because he felt quite weak. He was trying not to cry, and succeeding, but it was clear that he was being affected by what was going on. He shook his head a little when asked if he was OK, and it was clear that he would need a moment, though he knew that things could have been much worse. He was going to try and compose himself; knowing that the worst was over, and that those Rosferians who hadn't made it were now at peace helped his disposition slightly. He had made sure to be close to his pine marten friend due to his photosensitivity, and when it became clear that the mustelid was having trouble locating his glasses, the rodent assisted him in finding them, standing up and attending to his friend.
Selvis, meanwhile, was well aware that this was only Evi's second battle on the gun crew - technically speaking, at least. The disappointment over Hotham's dismal failure to direct things properly had affected the spiky-furred creature, as it had all of them, but the weasel wanted to make sure that this turn of events didn't cause the timid creature stress. He took the hedgehog's paw and gently squeezed it as he offered the hedgehog support. Evi had had a rough time of it over the last little while - but had pawdled a conversation with Caden quite well, unknown to him - and the longtail felt as though his friend needed somebeast there for him. All three respectfully bowed their heads during Ladorak's speech, trying to keep their emotions in check.
Carrow had found the marten's glasses and pawed them to him once he was sure that his companion's vision had cleared. His legs still felt slightly wobbly, but the mouse had managed to maintain his composure and was now coming back to himself. Selvis, too, felt noticeably calmer than before. He was pleased that the Captain of the Alcide had survived, but something about Ladorak saying that those on the Alcide should feel proud of their efforts didn't sit well with him. There was no doubt in his mind that they should indeed do so, and he would be among the first to commend their efforts, especially so because of the tragic circumstances that had befallen their ship and the rest of their crew; it was just that he wished he could say the same of the Agamemnon's crew. It wasn't their fault, of course, but the only reason that he felt they hadn't done themselves proud was because, in all honesty, they had been given absolutely no opportunity to do so.
It wasn't like last time where they at least saw some good action before being forced to pull out. They could feel proud of the fact that they had managed to rescue 50 struggling Rosferians before their ship had gone up in flames, sure, but that was it. The only thing about the battle that Selvis felt proud of that that his companions had put in their usual sterling work, but in every other respect, it had been a shambles. He was disappointed - not to mention quite resentful of Admiral Hotham (this was something that had been building up within him regardless, so he was glad he had let some of it out) - but figured there was nothing for it except to move on from it.
Evi and Selvis went over to stand with Caden and Carrow as they saw Ladorak approaching them; the mouse, hedgehog and weasel all threw smart salutes when the stoat Captain addressed them. Carrow looked at his friends after the mustelid had spoken, and received a nod from both of them indicating that he should speak. "Oh, well, we're OK, sir - maybe a little rattled, but otherwise OK. It's hard to be properly prepared for seeing something like that. How are you feeling, Caden?," the mouse asked his friend, needing to address him as he had been slightly concerned about him a moment ago. He wasn't sure what the effects of an explosion such as that on a photosensitive creature were - other than temporary blindness - and wanted to make certain that his companion wasn't feeling out of sorts.
|
|
|
Post by Ladorak on Aug 23, 2012 17:10:29 GMT -5
Caden gratefully thanked his mouse friend for assisting him in locating his glasses from when he was partly blinded. They had been difficult to grasp hold of with his fumbling paws, but the marten was glad regardless that they were upon his snout now.
Ladorak returned their salutes, Caden hastily throwing one of his own when he saw the stoat captain approaching. As it was, Carrow answered first, and Ladorak nodded. "Yes... you know it's going to occur, you just don't know when. Thankfully, we weren't too close when it blew. Otherwise... we'd be having far more problems right about now..." Ladorak said in a lower voice, adopting a serious look upon his features. "I'm just glad everyone's all right. This battle was certainly one of the more pathetic I've ever been in... much to my chagrin. Well... we just have to hope we can do better next time... and that for ONCE we'll have the blasted weather gage." The stoat murmured.
Little did he know, but as if adding insult to injury, the Welkinites would get their wish later that night. Towards the end of the Second Dog Watch, the wind would shift again, this time to the southwest, giving the Welkinites the weather gage... HAD of course Admiral Hotham persisted in his chase. But as it stood, he hadn't, and by the time the wind shifted, the two fleets were well separated, with the Rosferians almost making Fréjus Bay by that point.
Feeling the changing wind caused all the more indignation to sweep throughout the crew, knowing that if only they'd persisted, their efforts would've paid off.
Caden nodded at Carrow, still blinking a bit more rapidly than normal. "Yeah... I'm OK... still seeing spots whenever I close my eyes, and I've got a bit of a headache from the intensity of that light but... I guess I'll pull through it." He said, sighing. His disappointment was the same as Selvis's: no tangible prizes and no real gain either, save for destroying one Rosferian ship out of 17. The Guerrier and Captain Infernet had been extremely lucky, as both made it out to fight another day, and they would cross paths with Monsieur Infernet ten years from now in a larger and more decisive battle.
Selvis's sentiment was shared by many. Caden was relieved all his friends were OK, but wasn't OK with the fact that they'd failed their primary objective. Their own ship in particular hadn't even really gotten a chance except throw a few shot here and there. Almost every other ship that had been engaged (except the Gibraltar) had seen heavier fighting. They were all feeling the sting of disappointment right now. Ladorak had been right... the Rosferians could be proud, as they'd defended their ship against three to one odds... but what had the Agamemnon done? Pretty much nothing. That would stay with them for a bit.
"Well let's get ready for supper." Ladorak suggested, nodding at them, and saluting, to which they all returned it before he walked off, giving Caden a pat on his back as he did so. "We'll put this behind us and keep going."
Sometimes this was how war went; sometimes you just didn't get your goal. Ladorak knew it, and now they had all experienced it. But all they could do was what the stoat suggested: push forward and move on, and hope that the next one would be better still. It was with this in mind that they continued their business, getting the ship ready for supper and beginning to send the prisoners off to various other ships in the fleet. The ships pointed their heads eastward, and prepared to sail back to Personza, their port of call for repairs and refits. Next time... there would always be a next time that wasn't the Battle of the Hyeres Islands.
END
|
|