Lietuveska
11-08-2004, 03:05
OOC: This thread is IC only, and reserved for those that I say can post here. If you'd like to help out and post here and whatnot, go here: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=347006
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The skies over Weston Island were blue, clear, and cheerful. Light winds created comfortable conditions for those that were on the island. The hot, white sun baked the earth as hundreds of construction crews continued work. A lunch break was severely needed, but that wasn't to come for another hour or two, so the hard-hatted employees of numerous Lietuv companies would just have to wait. The roar of diesel engines from the many heavy vehicles on the small island was constant, and the frequent beeping noise of the same vehicles going into reverse was annoyingly evident. Trucks, bulldozers, cranes and many other gas-guzzling monsters were scurrying about Weston Island, not to mention the two thousand-plus number of construction workers, engineers, architects, and contractors that were riding, walking, and traveling from site to site. Concrete foundations had already been laid in many places, and the LSI Headquarters was to begin construction soon. Dust continued to creep into the air in large clouds as jackhammers shook the ground. Iron posts were being laid into the holes, and welded. The first wall of the large office building that would house LSI importants was going up, and the hangar walls across the 30-mile horizon were springing up as well. About four launching pad sites were already prepared, waiting for their attention as the men and women of the URHP constructed the vast complex.
Nightfall had come, and after a strenuous 12-hour workshift, this batch of nearly four would return home for twenty four hours as a new one took its place during the night and another tomorrow. Weston Island, being only about 50 miles off the coast of Lietuveska, was close enough to home for the thousands of workers who left by air and ship to return to their loved ones. With this work pattern, the Lietuv government hoped to complete construction within six months. Funds from allies would come a long way, not necessarily in the direct construction of the facility, but also in the construction and research of space vessels later on.
Jacob Korskinov, leader of the project, sighed drearily as he took a sip from his coffee mug. He stayed on Weston Island, with about two hundred others, in barracks. He was pushing hard for the construction crews to complete work on time, and they were already lagging a little more than he liked. Well, that was a lie. Korskinov knew he was way ahead of schedule per government requirements, but he always liked it that way. Two steps ahead he stayed, and if they fell behind that, Korskinov would force the shift to work until the job was completed. He was tough, ruthless, and urgent. Which is, of course, why the Silaari picked him to run the project. He had ordered blueprints to come in the next day, and was expecting allies to send some work crews soon, or at least he hoped they would come. Another deep sigh, and Jacob glanced at the clock. It was time for bed. He moved away from his desk and crawled into the bed next to him, for he had a private room at the end of one of the barracks. As he laid his head to sleep, the constant noise from construction crews working the night shift was heard.
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The skies over Weston Island were blue, clear, and cheerful. Light winds created comfortable conditions for those that were on the island. The hot, white sun baked the earth as hundreds of construction crews continued work. A lunch break was severely needed, but that wasn't to come for another hour or two, so the hard-hatted employees of numerous Lietuv companies would just have to wait. The roar of diesel engines from the many heavy vehicles on the small island was constant, and the frequent beeping noise of the same vehicles going into reverse was annoyingly evident. Trucks, bulldozers, cranes and many other gas-guzzling monsters were scurrying about Weston Island, not to mention the two thousand-plus number of construction workers, engineers, architects, and contractors that were riding, walking, and traveling from site to site. Concrete foundations had already been laid in many places, and the LSI Headquarters was to begin construction soon. Dust continued to creep into the air in large clouds as jackhammers shook the ground. Iron posts were being laid into the holes, and welded. The first wall of the large office building that would house LSI importants was going up, and the hangar walls across the 30-mile horizon were springing up as well. About four launching pad sites were already prepared, waiting for their attention as the men and women of the URHP constructed the vast complex.
Nightfall had come, and after a strenuous 12-hour workshift, this batch of nearly four would return home for twenty four hours as a new one took its place during the night and another tomorrow. Weston Island, being only about 50 miles off the coast of Lietuveska, was close enough to home for the thousands of workers who left by air and ship to return to their loved ones. With this work pattern, the Lietuv government hoped to complete construction within six months. Funds from allies would come a long way, not necessarily in the direct construction of the facility, but also in the construction and research of space vessels later on.
Jacob Korskinov, leader of the project, sighed drearily as he took a sip from his coffee mug. He stayed on Weston Island, with about two hundred others, in barracks. He was pushing hard for the construction crews to complete work on time, and they were already lagging a little more than he liked. Well, that was a lie. Korskinov knew he was way ahead of schedule per government requirements, but he always liked it that way. Two steps ahead he stayed, and if they fell behind that, Korskinov would force the shift to work until the job was completed. He was tough, ruthless, and urgent. Which is, of course, why the Silaari picked him to run the project. He had ordered blueprints to come in the next day, and was expecting allies to send some work crews soon, or at least he hoped they would come. Another deep sigh, and Jacob glanced at the clock. It was time for bed. He moved away from his desk and crawled into the bed next to him, for he had a private room at the end of one of the barracks. As he laid his head to sleep, the constant noise from construction crews working the night shift was heard.