Salisbury seems to be busier then usual. Patrols are increased and every ship entering and leaving the system is rigorously scanned. No exception are made. Security is increased because of a meeting and so to prevent any unwelcome guests to disrupt it... Commodore Driscoll's orders were plain and simple. No mistakes today!.
Harlow’s main hangar bay is a cylindrical cavern some sixty meters in diameter by hundred and twenty meters long. In the middle are 2 massive elevators lowering the fighters and bombers to the launch/landing deck. The atmosphere had a dry metallic taste, very common in space ships which create their own oxygen and atmospheric pressure. Basic repairs, fueling and munition loading take place on the hangar deck. Its one of the most busiest place of the ship.
Literally dozens of snubcrafts are stacked in the so called hotstacks which allow the armed forces to use every single free space as effectively as possible to increase the amount of carried fighters and bombers. Recruits from all over Bretonia rechieve their training in this system and using the battleship as a staging area.
Ian walked patiently to the row of officers who were selected to welcome the 41st delegation aboard. “Stay sharp people, although this is a informal meeting between friends it can’t hurt to impress them a bit.” he says with a grin on his face. “And Sullivan zip up that uniform of yours lad, you look like a bloody ensign on his first day.” “oh....uuuhhh …. i...” Commander Sullivan creates a wave of laughter under the rest of the officers.
At the opposite of the welcoming party stood a honor guard of Royal marines in their crimson uniform, mirrored helmets and matching boots were resplendent under the glow of the lights. Each marine stood rigidly at attention with a pulse rifle trust out before them.
A young sailor walks up to Commodore Driscoll and salutes. “Sir, chef Ramsay reports he is ready in the galley sir. The officers mess is adequate prepared sir, as you requested.” Ian answers the salute. “Very well you can report chef that he can start serving in the next hour.” And the sailor walks away. “Sir?...sir...” The LSO looks at Ian to get his attention. “I just got word from command sir, the 41st ship has started mooring.” “Alright lads and lassies, lets roll.”
Commodore Driscoll nods toward the three sailors each holding a silver whistle in their hand and says “Start whistling the moment they step on the deck lads.”
The liner began aproaching the Battleship Harlow, begining the mooring procedures. Vice Admiral Wolf stood next to the captains chair on the liner, fiddling with his wrist computer. As the Battleship grew larger in front of the window, Wolf began his pre-meeting checks...
*over ships comms* Okay gentelmen, this is Vice Admiral Wolf speaking. I want everyone looking clean and smart as hell, otherwise i will be having your arses for it. Lets get cracking gentelmen. Lieutenant Commander Jackson and a Marine Squad to report to the bridge *puts down the microphone attached to the ships internal comms*
The liner was a buzz with activity, all floors being cleaned, board members that had accompanied to see the trip to Bretonia moved back to their rooms along with thier families.
Jackson and the squad entered the bridge, spick and span, battle dress uniform fitted. They line up below the Captains raised area around the captains chair, standing to attention. The squad of marines was about 5 men, with Jackson standing in the middle of them. At this point, a fighter escort wing began docking sequences in the heavily modified docking bay, no longer a civilian design, but extended for the use of a whole wing of guardians.
*Wolf steps forward to the men standing before him* Gentelmen. in a few moments we will moor with the Battleship Harlow. We need to be waiting at the airlock, because this thing wont dock with a battleship. Unfortunatly, the Admiral, being who he is, has demanded i take a marine squad with me. Jackson, you will be with me at all times, marines, once aboard you will be cleared to do as you wish, within reason with the requirements of the BAF members. *turns to the captain* Okay, begin the mooring procedures captain, we shall make our way down to the airlock. *wolf jumps down from the platform, landing in front of the men* Alright gentelmen, lets make our way down*
the squad makes its way down to the airlock, ariving just to hear the hiss of the docking clamps attatching. All around the men are adjusting thier armour, making themsleves look as perfect as possible. Wolf adjusts his own armour and "Admiral's cloak" before sighing and reaching for the door handle. he simply mutters "Welcome home Joseph", before pulling the doorway open and stepping aboard the battleship...
A loud hissing and the port side airlock opened. The three sailors selected to blow the naval officers aboard started to whistle ‘The Side’ the traditional welcome for a senior officer aboard a naval vessel.
Commodore Driscoll watched while the officers of the 41st walk in and take up position across his man. He musters the man opposite him. Vice-Admiral Wolf,“seems like a capable officer” he thinks to himself. “Looks like he has seen his share of combat” He looks to the other man around the admiral "Seems that man right next to the admiral is a lieutenant commander, must be his right hand. Also it seems the admiral is keen on security with those marines” He thought.
When the 41st man are all out of the airlock he says with a firm voice. “Detail attention!!!” All officers and marines bring the traditional salute towards a superior officer and comrades in arms. And await the reply of the 41st................
“Vice-Admiral Wolf its a honor to welcome you and your man aboard one of her majesty’s finest warships. I hope this meeting will be a good start for future operations sir.” He said with a firm voice. “My name is Commodore Ian Driscoll and this is my second in command Commander Mark Sullivan."and he extends his hand......
Sullivan turns to the marine chief standing in front of the honor guard. “Chief Ashton would you be so kind and show your fellow marines around a bit?
“Aye aye sir” She says with a firm voice.She turns toward her detail. "Guard dismissed". She orders two of her marines."Jefferson and Pierce you stay with the commodore." "The rest of us will show our fellow marines around."
“Ah.. and chief?” Sullivan says with a little bit of sarcasm in his voice.
“sir?” She reacts while she raises her eyebrow.
“None of your traditional card games this time chief” He says with a sarcastic grin. She looks a moment to see if Sullivan is serious or joking. “sigh..... aye sir. Follow me lads”
The whistles blew as soon as Wolf set foot on the deck of the Battleship. He smiles to himself, with the simple thought of "A nice Bretonian Welcome... always did like to show off" The marines and officers line up in front of their Bretonian allies, listening to the whistle. As all line up, they stand, hands behind their backs, looking straight at the Armed Forces ment in front of them. As soon as the whistle stops blowing, Wolf takes a deep breath. First impressions count after all... 41st! TEEEENNN HUT! The sound of boots hitting the ground in synchronization, hands snapping to temples. The men here obviously cared about this day, and had been chosen selectly for this operation. As Wolf lowers his hand, he steps forward as Jackson shouts JacksonRESENTING VICE ADMIRAL WOLF, REPRESENTING THE 41ST TODAY IN A MEETING WITH THE BRETONIAN ARMED FORCES
Wolf: Marines! Dismissed! Jackson *waits for him to step up* Your with me. Time for us to meet the Armed Forces members in the flesh... Wolf walks forward towards the Commodore, the soft "thud" of his boots as he walked was audible in the room. As he reached the Commodore, he held out his hand to shake Driscolls. After shaking hands he listens intently to the Commodore, understanding why he headed up the Leeds defence. Obviously a man respected by his officers. Wolf: Thank you for your hospitality and your time Commodore Driscoll. I know you must be a busy man, so i am glad you managed to make time for me in what must surely be a busy schedule. *looks around him* It's been a while since i have been on a Dunkirk class Battleship... But she is beautiful. An excellent place to discuss specifics on our co-operation. *points to the man beside him* This is Lieutenant Commander Jackson, a trusted officer who reports directly to me, a perfect choice for representing the Task Force alongside you. I will ask that anything to be told to me be relayed through him, just send it to him on the neural net, he gives me reports weekly. *sighs* Well, i must apologize before we go any further... The marines wasn't my idea. The Admiral requested it of me, and usually i can turn down his orders, we have worked with each other long enough to have that friendliness, but he insisted and pulled rank... *sighs* again, i apologize for the absurdness behind the idea but *holds up his hands and laughs* I'm just following orders. I have instructed my marines to go do as they wish, within reason of your requests of corse. I'm sure your own people could find something to do whilst we have a "chat" *laughs again* Wolf watches the marines and honour guard walk off together and smiles, thinking "Already getting on it seems". he turns back to the Commodore and gestures for him to lead the way, following behind...
While shaking the hand of Wolf Ian says with a grin "It is no problem sir, we both know that security is imperative." He looks at the marines walking away. "Iam's sure my marines and yours are getting along fine, why do we not head for the officers mess. Its a bit quiter there to have a conversation."
A loud roaring is heard when a squadron of Challenger bombers leave for the launch area and start their engines.
With both marines Pierce and Jefferson walking ahead the group they walk in a brisk pace. When the group walks through one of the many corridors on their way to the mess hall, they are passed by sailors, marines, pilots and cadets. Most salute towards the party as they pass by, its drilled into them from their first basic training day, Ian salutes back. While walking next to vice-admiral Wolf Ian noticed that Wolf apparently knows his way through the massive battleship, so he asks with a frown “you’ve been on a Dunkirk before sir?”….................
The officers mess located on deck 5 its a decent sized room with space for around 36 officers to relax and enjoy a good decent meal or offtime. Although this is a warship the room is looking luxurious decorated. As always when officers serve aboard they bring stuff with them, a leather seat, a painting for the wall, a book cabinet. As well a massive piano, rumours say its been brought in some eighty years ago by someone from the royal family, but the officers serving those days aboard the Harlow keep silent. At the starboard side a massive brown leather couch dominates the wall, above hangs a painting of two dunkirks fighting a kusarian battle fleet. in front of the couch a group of massive leather seats and a dark oak table in the middle. A real place to relax as it is intended too. On the opposite wall hangs a painting of the queen with the words “Carina, Regina, Imperatrix”. And in the corner a small bar is placed with access to the galley. At the other side of the room several tables with chairs are placed where officers can eat their meals or sit to discuss and study.
Two stewards welcome the group and guide them to a prepared table in middle of the room. “Please take a seat sirs, chef is eager to serve the first dish.” Says the chief steward. Ian frowns and takes the chief apart “Tell the chef to hold that dish a few minutes chief, lets get our guests a bit comfortable we are not in a rush.” He thinks for a second “Start with a drink first, there's a lot to talk about tonight. Follow me lads" and he walks to the corner with the leather seats. When suddenly the chief taps Commodore Driscoll on the shoulders. "You got a priority message on the holocom sir." Ian frowns wondering what's going on. He activates the comm and puts in his personal password. The stewards see him talk a few minutes and than suddenly salute with a worried smile on his face. "Oh my", reacts the chief when he sees Ian walking to the corner where Vice Admiral Wolf sits.
Chief steward Mc’Mullan walks into the galley to bring the news to the chef to wait a few more minutes. “Chef, commodore, no scrap that, admiral Driscoll wants you to wait with serving the first course” he says. Chef Ramsay looks up from mashing his potatoes for one of the following courses, he bursts out in anger and yells. “This bloody imbecile, does he think the potatoes think well lets wait?? Blasted officers. You tell him that ey!” He calms down and starts to give orders to his staff. “Liam turn down the heat in the oven, Sylvie can you keep that stew good for another 15 minutes? yes?...Splendid.. Frakkin' offices"
Meanwhile in the mess itself the stewards serve the drinks, the stewards ask around. He looks at the vice admiral and his attaché first. “What can i bring the gentleman?” asks the steward............... “admiral?” the other steward asks "What's your poison sir?" “Bloody news travvels fast 'ere ey lad? For me a orange jus special chef” Says Ian with a grin. Commander Sullivan orders a Malt on the rocks. With their drinks served admiral Driscoll turns toward vice-admiral Wolf. “What do you know about those blasted frogs sir? I don’t mean what did you read on some vague reports or guess." He frowns and looks a bit worried. "What do you really know about them??"
Whilst walking along the corridors of the dunkirk, Wolf daydreams as he looks around, just looking at tiny details. Driscoll brings him back to the real world... "Hmm? Ah yes, well... more 'raised' on one. My father captained on one before... well... thats a story for another day i think. You may know him Commodore, as Lieutenant Tony Wolf. I have spent many hours aboard one... *a smile reaches his lips* And she's still as beautiful as i remember... But lets get a move on. I expect there is much for us to discuss. And i am eager to eat. Not sure about Jackson here... but he can eat for Liberty *chuckles*...
As they step into the room, the marines accompanying the party stand either side of the door, with Driscoll welcoming them in. Jackson also stands in the doorway, taking it all in, whilst Wolf, showing some of his origin, steps forward immediatly, muttering the words "Carina, Regina, Imperatrix"
[align=center][i]Wolf raises an eyebrow at Driscoll, smiling at the idea of food so early, yet surprised at the timing. He allows them to be led to the table, and watches the commodore take the stewards aside for a moment. He leans forward to talk to Jackson"Jackson, lighten up a little. We are here as friends *grins* plus we get free food!
Jacksonlease sir, you cant be a little less, well, crude today? Its only food after all...
Wolf: Well *sits back and grins* seeing as you asked so nicely...
He watches Driscoll return from the stewards, finishing up a transmission before he returns.
"Welcome Back Commodore... *Driscoll shows the transmission* Admiral Driscoll... Well congratulations sir. I will drink to that sir! To your new position in the Bretonian Armed Forces!"
"All i know is their tech can be... annoying, to say the least... But not much, seeing as the reports arent always completely truthful as im sure you know... I'd like to know what you think of it sir...
Wolf sits back as he listens to what Admiral Driscoll has to say...
Ian types into the holocom his personal access code and a link is established. “Commodore Driscoll, i am Captain Dwayne Flemeth from the office of admiralty” An older officer with a massive mustache appearing on the holocom says, he wears a service dress with an impressive row of medals. “I know you are in a important meeting so i keep this short sir." He takes a breath "By order of fleet-admiral Piett you are hereby promoted to full admiral, the admiral wants to see you in his office aboard the Royal Sovereign to receive the leafs once you’re done with the meeting with vice-admiral Wolf sir.” Ian is stunned for a second then gets a bit mad, he requested specifically not to be promoted to a higher rank, he prepares to refuse the position as is his right and..... Captain Flemeth looks at him a bit amused. “The admiral told me you would react like this sir and he assured me to tell you in his words.” He takes a breath and looks at a writepad. “You can still keep flying you pessimistic bastard but i also need you at the headquarters. You escaped promotion to long its now your turn.” “So congratulations admiral.” And with a salute captain Flemeth signs off.
Ian walks back to the Vice admiral while the stewards talk among each other about what they have heard. As usual the entire ship will know about his promotion in a couple of hours. Its how it goes. When he reaches Wolf he shows him the partial recording of the promotion. “Seems i am now higher in rank” Ian says with a smile. “The problem is i never intended to become a admiral, nothing for me to command and carry the burden of an entire fleet." he sighs “But you already know that burden sir.”
“Lets head for the table sir, before chef comes after me with a spoon.” He grins worried while looking to the galley. Sitting at the table in the corner the steward start bringing in the dishes. They start with a slice of smoked fish with cream cheese on a quenelle of mashed potatoes, garlic and chopped herbs and a slice of fresh lemon. While eating Ian starts talking about his past experience with the Gallian navy. “Well where to start” Ian says with a frown. “At this given time we are in a bit of a stalemate, we do draw them out and make them loose manpower and ships. We deploy in Leeds a guerilla style defence. Hit, run and regroup." He shakes his head a bit “Its effective but in the long term we can’t do enough damage to them to win” “Firstly their capital fleet, strong and massive. When you encounter their battleships, they call them Valors, you should order your men to watch out for their massive big gun situated in their nose part. That gun is devastating for any capital ship when it hit, go for the aft.” He chews on his food and thinks for a second. “That thing has twenty gun emplacements spread out over it and can be deadly. But we have the perfect answer. Strike it with bomber swarms armed with incapacitator and nova torpedo’s. They are cocky bastards and they tend to underestimate us. For example a pair of our dessies can be a deadly menace to them aswell. Rolls eyes "Prince slimeball has lost a lot of warships this way as his captains rely on their firepower and armor instead of brains.” Ian laughs softly “Hows your fish sir?”
“Our intelligence service tries to find out everything about the gallian forces and they came up with a fact. 50% of their captains are just like bulls, they tend to rush in and secure the glory of Gallia.” He bursts out in laughing “Good glory!. All they do is polluting Leeds with their wrecks”
The stewards remove the empty plates and start pooring some drinks again. A few mins later they walk in with the maincourse.
Wolf watches Driscoll talking into his private comms, whilst also fidling with his own wrist comms device. He watches Driscoll become enraged for a second, before being taken aback and then returning to the table. Wolf watches the partial recording, picking up his beer and smiling at the newly promoted Admiral Driscoll. He raises his glass in a toast. "To the Armed Forces Newest Admiral. Admiral Ian Driscoll!" Upon finishing, he drinks his own cup in one, followed by the same actions of Jackson.
"The burden of leadership... yes i know it well. But we do what we must, Driscoll sir, to protect our people. Now that you must know, knewly promoted or not"
Wolf listens carefully to Driscoll's explanation and advice on the ships, making notes alongside Jackson. Laughing at "Prince slimeball", he waves away the question about the fish, clearly intrigued about how he can assign his forces to assist in the defence of Leeds, food no longer mattering to him. "You mention bomber swarms, and a pair of your Destroyers causing the most damage to them... What i am seeing now is what i can make most effective in helping you. I would assign Attack Group South, a Cruiser group, to the leeds system. Attack Group South consists of an Assualt Battlecruiser, two Siege Cruisers, and then various fighters and bombers assigned to it. This could prove effective from the data you have given me... What do you think? I know the Armed Forces got thier hands on some Liberty cruisers... Whats your thoughts sir?
The mention of the intelligence service brings up his fighters, reminding him of the extra role they can be assigned to. "The mention of your intelligence reminds me sir, If you ever run a patrol beyond the leeds system sir, as rare as it may be, my men are ready to fly at your side. Just call them and they will follow your orders."
Wolf chuckles at the remark of the Gallics only good for polluting the leeds system, whilst the waiters take the plates away, thinking on how to work his men against the Gallic menace...
Ian listens to what wolf has to say and nods.“Yes we learned the hard way against the kusarians that our destroyers are very effective, especially when the captain uses his brains and use the speed advantage they have over those heavy battleships. Circle around them and use the heavy guns to wear them down, then send in the bombers.” Meanwhile the stewards place the main course on the tables. Lamb stew filled with tender pieces of lamb, carrots and tomatoes accompanied with fresh mashed potatoes and white cauliflowers under a crust of cheese. Professional they place the dishes on the table and start to serve the admirals and their staff.
Chef Ramsay looks from the galley with a bit of red head anxious to see iff the fine admirals love his food. "Bloody windbags" he murmels. When the stewards return he says “and..? they loike’n it?”Steward Mc’Mullan sighs “Patience chef patience they just started..” and he polishes some glasses. “The fine officers are sealin’ne allionce huh?" Ramsay asks. “I think so chef but i would not be too curious, you know how hard the BIS looks for to curious people these days” steward Andrews says when he picks up the conversation, and he makes a slicing movement along his throat. “Meeehhh they whip you and then send you into the LD-14 mines.” steward Stone comments and even the guards who patrol the area bring in some comments as “Traitors will be hanged. Chef is a Gallian spie?" They laugh “More a Garlic pie” They keep taunting the chief further. Chef Ramsay starts swinging his rolling pin. The galley starts to turn into a complete chaos. Suddenly Mc’Mullan bursts out loudly in a authoritarian voice. “SHUT IT all of ye. YOU!!" and he points at the marines. “Beat it and continue your patrol..... You two.” He says while turning towards his staff. “There are a lot of glasses that need to be polished so get to it..” He looks out to the galley to see if anyone had heard his outburst and he sees Driscoll look at him for a second and he could swear the second man of VA Wolf did the same.
When some tumult comes from the galley Ian looks over there to see what the bloody hell is going on. He hears Mc’Mullan’s loud voice above the tumult and suddenly its quiet again. Still he will speak to them after the meeting. he bends over to Comm Sullivan to let him make a note about it. Seems commander Sullivan already heared it and does not look very happy. Ian shakes his head a bit and whispers. "later." “Well sir about those cruisers, as far as i’ve seen them in action they seem to be very suited for the job. They are agile enough to dodge those gallian guns and sturdy enough to survive a few hits. But.... but i am most impressed with their main gun. Infact most of the lads and lasses aboard say its a bloody heavy weapon and when it hits it tears a hole as big as a house in those gallian ships.” he frowns and thinks quickly about how to deploy the offered battlecruisers. “Well a battlecruiser is always good, personally i did not see them in action till now so are they as good as my staff has told me? What's their strong point and to be honest..... their weak ones??” He grins a bit before continuing Snubs are always welcome, alot of our pilots already flown with the Liberty navy in Maghellan or Cortez, so that would be no problem."
As quickly as the food came on the table that quick it was removed again. Chief Mc”Mullan walks to the table and asks if there is anything the gentleman would like to have as dessert. "There is some fine honey cake available." Ian thinks a second “Just a sidewinder fang and please chief also bring the box of my personal cigars will you?” “Aye sir.” He looks at Wolf. “Sir”? Commander Sullivan orders a honey cake dessert.
Ian sits back and offers the admiral a cigar while enjoying his drink. When he lights his cigar he looks at Wolf. “Alright i mentioned before perhaps some things about the BIS, to be honest i can’t tell you to much as you may know but i could recommend you trough the proper channels to them that you might be interested in a joined operations iff you want. He enjoys his cigar for a minute and looks at the painting of the queen. "Personally i find them a bunch of brave lads and lasses but its nothing for me. I prefer a direct confrontation where i face my enemy," He sits back and waits for the admiral to reply.