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+--- Thread: The DFS Bonnie Lass (/showthread.php?tid=12623)
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 09-30-2008
The command center of the DFS (Dublin Free Ship) Bonnie Lass was a wreck. The ceiling was missing chunks, which lay strewn about the floor in a haphazard assortment of debris and detritus. Over their consoles, the current command crew of the Bonnie Lass lay slumped; some dead, some meerly unconscious. To the rear of the room, there was a hatch with a circular 'knob', the kind you would see on doors to submarines and sea-faring ships on old Earth. Slowly, imperceptible at first, it began to turn, until it spun freely for a second before the door opened inwards, and a man in his early forties strode in.
Wearing the green uniform of the Mollies, he struck an impressive figure. Flowing red hair to his shoulders and a rugged beard framed his imposing face, with green eyes that betrayed a twinkle of merriment inside his soul. He surveyed the damage with nary a wince, instead reaching for the comm device to call the med bay to send up a few medics. When the comm didn't respond, he cursed softly, then looked skyward for a second.
Gasping, he took an involuntary step backwards. He saw a Nova Torpedo stuck through the top, one that had yet to detonate. A string of very loud and colorful obsenities flowed from his mouth now, and he ran to grab the slumbering crew. Throwing one over his shoulders at a time, he ran down the hallway that led from the back of the command deck to a small lift. Running the entire time, he soon began to pant. As he went for the last person, a noise that filled him with dread began - the beeping from the warhead that signified that it's timer was about to end, which would self-detonate it.
With a sudden burst of speed and stamina, he grabbed the last person, and with a roar sprinted out. Much like a bowling ball, he threw him across the ground to the others, closing the door behind him and engaging the emergency bulkhead, which sealed off the bridge. Running for cover, he barely had time to make it to the lift before a deafening explosion rocked the Bonnie Lass. Everything went light, then the darkest dark.
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 09-30-2008
Slowly, vision and thought returned. The ringing in his ears was last to go, and the metallic taste in his mouth remained. Leveraging himself up with both arms, he staggered to his feet and leaned against the wall. Looking back, he saw that the bulkhead had managed to hold the explosion away from them, but the shock and jarring that the ship took was strong enough by itself.
Checking that the crew was still alive (which they were), he set out down the lift to the aft of the ship, where the engine room lay. It was of the utmost import to make sure the ship was still moving, for in the state it was in, it wouldn't survive another assault. With the command center being destroyed, the engines would respond only to manual control from the engine room itself.
Boldly striding down the lifeless corridors, he moved with a purpose to save the ship - his ship. Running towards him, a young Dubliner was panting for breath as he skidded to a halt in front of him.
"Captain McGillick!" he exclaimed in a lilting brogue. "We heard an explosion all the way from the engine room! Is everything OK?"
"Aye lad, that it is. What's the status that way?" he replied.
"All's well, though she do be beat up some, sir."
"Great, get to med bay and tell 'em to send the doc up to the bridge, and make clear that there's no need to go on the bridge itself, as it's more 'n likely a vacuum, got it?"
"Aye, sir." With that, he ran off some obscure corridor.
Continuing, Captain McGillick resumed his run to the engine room.
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 09-30-2008
He entered the large room out of breath, leaning against the frame. The fact that smoke and dust filled the air, hampering his breathing (as well as covering him with a fine coat) was simply icing on the cake. Five men were laboring throughout the room, grease on their faces and hands dirty. A large, rotund man with gray hair walked up. Every few seconds he'd mop his face with a grimy handkerchief, return it to a breast-pocket, then wipe his forehead again.
"Cap'n, we did take a beatin', but we showed them, eh?"
McGillick couldn't help but agree, as they weren't dead and no shots were being fired. The other ship - a Bretonian Destroyer - was either in as bad a shape as them, had run, or had been destroyed. The engine room itself was in better condition than the bridge, with all together less debris scattered about. Maybe it was because people were here to clean up, but McGillick doubted that, on the grounds that the engineers wouldn't bother cleaning it up.
"Right," the captain said, "get us the hell outta here, course set for Arranmore. And get that damn comms system up. And deploy damage control teams. I needa drink..."
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 10-01-2008
The Bonnie Lass, as any true Dubliner ship, had a small pub on it, stocked with barrels of Guinness and other spirits. The captain stood alone in the room, glass in his right hand, staring out the single long window that spread the entire length of the room, on the western wall. Orange dust blew past as the Destroyer plied one of the smog fields in Leeds. Taking a sip of the drink to steady himself, his quiet contemplation continued. They were all - every last one of them - damn lucky to be alive. Some weren't so lucky.
He thought back to the original charter of their vessel. As the frame of the Bonnie Lass sat in Foyle Shipyards, men had gathered to outline the specific 'government' that would rule over the ship. In effect, it would be it's own political entity, and as such, a charter was needed. First, it recognized that the ship and crew were under control of the Mollies. Then, it stated the command structure within the ship, and then the purpose of the ship was made manifest - the protection of Molly interests from the Bretonian Armed Forces and Corsairs, in the forum of capital ships.
Seamus McGillick was not a man of nostalgia - he was a fierce advocate of action. However, waves of rememberance washed over him, beating upon the rocks on the shoreline of his mind.
For a second, static sounded throughout the room, then: This thing on? 'Ey Cap'n, can ya hear me?
"I hear you, it's working now."
Great, best be gettin' down here, cap'n. We got a situation.
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 11-03-2008
Captain McGillick burst into engineering, which had been converted into an impromptu command center. Sean o'Hoolihan, as the chief engineer was named, was standing there, looking down at a display. Seamus walked up, and joined him in peering at the console. It looked grim.
"Aye sir, we just got sensors back online, and we see this. They're lookin' fer us alright, two gunboats and a lot of bombers."
"Looks like we're famous, Sean!" Seamus bellowed, clapping a hand on the engineer's shoulder.
"Ayup sir, so it does. What should we do?"
"In the condition we're in, surely we can take them! But let's save some glory for our fellow Mollies, eh? For now, let's tip-toe back to Dublin, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully, nothing will happen."
To punctuate hit sentence, an explosion shook the ship.
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 11-20-2008
"Sir, a wing of bombers is on us! We cannau shake 'em!" a young man yelled from across the room, manning the helm controls.
A second explosion ripped open the center of the ship, sending it into a slight spin. Everyone was thrown from where they were, caught by Newton's First, namely, objects are at rest until acted upon by an outside force. In this case, a torpedo.
"We're ventin' atmo! Not sure how much more we c'n take!"
It looked like the end of the Bonnie Lass, the Molly Destroyer. Emergency lighting flickered, and all the consoles went dim. Someone started to say that they had lost power, but someone slapped him upside the head and muttered something about "stating the obvious", in less kind terms. At a less grim time, it would likely have elicited a few chuckles, or even raucous laughter. Now, everyone's stony expression maintained its form.
Then, they waited. Waited for the last explosion to rock the ship. They had lost their escape pods in the initial attack - it was indeed the end for the brave crew.
They kept waiting until they got to wondering what was going on. Then, someone said, "Hey, do you hear that?" Everyone strained their ears, until they heard it: the sound of gunfire, though none hitting them. Could it be?
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 11-21-2008
"Gorramit man, get me a view!" Seamus bellowed, walking around and slapping people upside the head, driving them to work faster. Soon, an external camera was repaired and began displaying. It showed a struggle between a group of Molly Werewolves and a few Challenger bombers. Cheering erupted throughout the engine-room, and more than a few kegs of Guinness were produced from the woodwork, quite literally brought out of hidden niches in the wall.
"Belay the drinkin' lads, we ain't outta this yet!"
It was a waiting game. The Bonnie Lass was crippled, and even if the Werewolves were victorious, if not enough survived the battle, they wouldn't have enough force to tow the destroyer back to Arranmore. The room was still very much tense.
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 11-30-2008
What eventually decided it was the arrival of a Molly gunboat. Its large guns beat the bombers to a pulp, and it was capable of towing the Bonnie Lass to port with minimal damage. Forgoing the asteroid/mine field surrounding Arranmore, they went straight to Londonderry and Foyle Shipyard; the Destroyer was too damaged to survive the mines. It was jostled into dry dock, where repairs were underwent on the nearly depressurized hulk.
Seamus, of course, swore up a storm. Then he led his ragtag crew to the pub on Foyle and bought the first round. It was good to be back home, away from the fray.
The DFS Bonnie Lass - Zapp - 06-30-2009
It took only a short while before Seamus got the bad news -- the Bonnie Lass was damaged beyond repair. Before he even realized it, the ship was being disassembled for spare parts. Mostly they were recycling the metal, as not much was left.
"I'm sorreh, Cap'n. 'Twas a fine ship, aye," lamented the First Mate, Podraig O'Malley. "They would nau hear 'bout not decommisionin' 'er, though."
McGillick and O'Malley were standing side-by-side on Foyle, looking out a window on the hulk of the Destroyer that was being disassembled before their eyes. As they watched with sadness, they prepared to move off to the pub. However, before they could a young lad ran up carrying a message.
"Seamus McGillick?" he asked timidly, as if he was new at the job. Or scared to offend someone much larger than him. The Captain nodded the affirmative, and the young lad handed him the message.
As he read it, Seamus' eyebrows rose with incredulity. In compensation for his Destroyer, he was being given a Gunboat...
"Oi, those cheap bastards..."