NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: No one outside of the crew of the Galaxy class submarine USS Gallery or the Farragut class armed blockade runner Genova knows about the rogue submarine at this point. My own government doesn't even know about it and I'm just doing this to have a good RP, not make enemies for my nation

CREW OF USS GALLERY,all are part of the sick conspiracy
CO: Captain Mike Williams
XO: Commander John Newman
Chief of Boat (COB) Master Chief John Clark
Tactical Action Officer/WEPS officer: Lt. Commander Paul Johns
Chief Engineer: Lt. Commander Dutch Clagget
Helm officer: Lt. Jim Jagger
Navigation officer: Lt. Ben Zimmer
SONAR officer: Lt. (JG) Jack Spratt
RADAR officer: Lt. (JG) Paul O'Neil
Diving officer/ planesman: Ensign Ryan Flemming
plus the whole crew.

Genova crew, also part of comspiracy
CO: Capt. Mike Spike
cargo/loading officer: Lt. Tim Smith

IC: (1 month ago)

It was a dark night on March 24, 2004. On that night the USS Gallery, a new sub of the galiant Galaxy class was leaving her overseas port of Manila, Phillipines. The ship had provisions for 4.5 months at sea. Her mission was to make a routine patrol and then run for home. Her captain had another idea. He was bent on destruction. He and his crew were out to commit mass murder and bring terror to the high seas. He would try and kill as many civilians and sailors as possible.

His officer corp was hand picked by him and loyal. The crew was easily manipulated and would believe him if he said a war was going on. Tons really were and they never knew who was friendly and who would be hostile. They would obey their Commanding Officer.

Captain Williams had help, the armed blockade runner of the stealthed Farragut class named Genova was owned by a friend of Williams, Capt. Mike Spike. He would reload and supply the sub with weapons and food.


At 0230 on 4-24-2004, the Gallery reached the continental shelf. The crew had been topside enjoying the air when the warning gong went off for them to head below decks. In five minutes all were below decks.

“Diving officer, rig us to dive,” called the Captain.

“Sir, we are rigged to dive,” replied Ensign Flemming.

“Very well,” replied the captain. “Dive the boat. Open main ballast tank vents, 5 degrees down angle on the fairwater plains.”

“Dive aye,” responded the Ensign.

“Dive! Dive! Dive!,” sceamed COB Clark over the 1MC with the medium-high pitched dive alarm squelching in the back ground. “open vents, down 5 degrees.”

“Level us out at 1-5-0 feet to check systems,” ordered the CO. “Then go to 1200 feet.

“aye, skip,” responded the Ensign.

“OK, helm, 10 degrees left rudder, come to new course 045, lets head for the Pacific shipping lanes at this time,” said the CO. “OK, all ahead 2/3, make turns for 10 knots.”

“Engineer answers 2/3,” replied Chief Engineer Dutch Clagget.


Present day

The Gallery disappeared 10 days after she dove under the Pacific. IDF naval officials declared she had sunk. No one could guess what would happen next. I guess the world would soon learn that if you don't know there is a predator, you can end up being hunted.



OOC:now it is your turn to post and possibly be hunted. Someone has to sink for the world to know what has happened.

OOC: Ill take the hit

The Transnapastain Shipping Vessel (TSV) Fairchild slid smoothly across the steel grey waters, lit only by the full moon.

Cpatain Branagain stood on deck, taking long drags from his Pal-Mal. I love these nights, when theres a light wind, smooth sailing....and plenty of booze on board that thought made him smile.....he'd drink later, though, he was on duty now.

Another thought brought an even bigger smile, just as soon as this run was over, the Transnapastain Port Athority had granted his leave, back home, he'd be able to spend 3 mounths with his lovely wife, Jilla, and his young son, Brad. He'd be spending the time well, and, his ship would be refitted, upgrading the autoNav, sat feeds, and weapons

Soon, just one more week, and all the love, relaxation, and booze i can shake a stick at.....i cant wait he thought

OOC: This looks pretty good actually. Sorta like a rogue "Hunt for the Red October", as it were. Nice

OOC: Ill take the hit

The Transnapastain Shipping Vessel (TSV) Fairchild slid smoothly across the steel grey waters, lit only by the full moon.

Cpatain Branagain stood on deck, taking long drags from his Pal-Mal. I love these nights, when theres a light wind, smooth sailing....and plenty of booze on board that thought made him smile.....he'd drink later, though, he was on duty now.

Another thought brought an even bigger smile, just as soon as this run was over, the Transnapastain Port Athority had granted his leave, back home, he'd be able to spend 3 mounths with his lovely wife, Jilla, and his young son, Brad. He'd be spending the time well, and, his ship would be refitted, upgrading the autoNav, sat feeds, and weapons

Soon, just one more week, and all the love, relaxation, and booze i can shake a stick at.....i cant wait he thought

aboard the USS Gallery
"Conn, Sonar, new passive SONAR contact bearing 1-0-5, designate contact sierra 12," called the SONARman throught the bulkhead speaker.

"Conn, aye," responded the captain. "Keep me updated SONAR. Weps, get a tracking team down to the attack center. I think we have a target.

"Yes sir," responded Lt. Commander Paul Johns.

10 minutes later
"Contact is firming up Captain," said SONAR officer Jack Spratt. "We have a range of probably 15k yards, plus or minus 2k. I think we have a merchie.

"good job," answered Captain Williams. "Lets use active SONAR and get a firing solution."

"Active SONAR has confirmed bearing of 105, heading 270, speed 12 knots," said the excited Spratt.

"Weps, plot solution for tubes 2 and 4," ordered the captain.

"plotted sir," answered Johns.

"flood both tubes, equalize, and open outer doors," ordered the captain.

"done sir," answered Johns.

"Match bearings and fire mk-48 ADCAP out of 2," ordered the captain.

"Weapon fired," answered the Weps officer as the whole ship shuddered at the force of the expeled air.

"Fire 4," ordered the captain.

"4 fired," answered Johns uselessly as the whole ship could feel the launch of the Mk-48 torpedo with 800 pounds of Torpex explosives. "torpedoes running on passive sonar now, speed 65 knots. They will go active at 2.5k yards.

FN Minhas; Feazanthian Alfa-II class SSN

"Conn, sonar. High-speed screws in the water. Sounds like someone just fired some torpedoes at that freighter."
"How far off?"
"Couple hundred kilometers, cap'n. They aren't headed towards us."
"Well, I assumed as much," Captain Thompson stroked his long, grey beard. He was approaching the end of his career as the skipper of the Minhas. "We got a ID on the shooter?"
"Plant noise sounds like a Galaxy."
"How many Galaxys do we have on the computer?"
"Two, sir. They're a new class."
"Alright, call this guy Galaxy three and start a tape. Keep an eye on him. He could be doing an exercise, but we don't know."
"Sonar, aye."

Sitting on deck, Fletcher Fairhead stared out to the horizon with mistrust. There, pale-blue, a line staggered above the dark sea. Cloud tops lit by moonlight. Big clouds. He peered once again at the weather radar in the bridge through smeared windows, and let slip a mild curse. The calmness around his battered little sea-ferry mocked him. The black crates on the deck shadowed him. Half a day from home, maybe less. Six hours from a storm his ship couldn't handle. Twenty-four hours to a deadline that would make, or break, his worthless career.

A flash of light. An eerie moment. Two seconds, ten, twenty.
Fletcher heard the thud of the detonation, as the red cloud rose into the sky.
A more potent curse crossed his lips.

Meanwhile, not all that far away, at Coral Palm Air Harbour, Coral Palm Island...

The IAe Sunderland Flying Boat Dolphin, of the Imperial Maritime Air Service, bobbed lazily at her moorings, as the Ordnance Officer winched the last of the Depth Charges and Torpedoes into place.

"Should keep you going for a while" he said to the Pilot, who nodded.

"Doubt we'll use 'em, though... We never have. We haven't had any excitement since we sank that Farflorin Spy Ship a year or so ago."

"Cheer up, you might get lucky. Now, she's all fuelled up and ready to go, the guns are loaded, the ordnance is armed, and all you have to do is fly around for a few hours and then return, most likely for an evening of Bacardi and Bikini Babes if I know you."

The Pilot laughed. "I'm looking forward to it..."

30 minutes later, the engines on the Sunderland kicked into life and the graceful Flying Boat rose into the air from Roycelandia's tropical colony and headed off on Patrol, the crew totally unsuspecting as to what they'd run into later...

Fletcher didn't time the crossing, but the old sea-ferry made good speed. On deck, four of his six man crew had been running around in a focussed frenzy. At times they would pause, look out over the bow, past the black crates, towards the ever rising pire of orange - a pillar supporting the milk-blue highlight of the clouds.

There was a name on the burning hull, or rather, what was left of a hull. Fairchild. His crew dragged burnt, soggy, disoriented people aboard. One was more fucussed, more proud. He came towards Fletcher and the bridge.

'Are you the captain?'
'I am.' Fletcher replied.
'It's a miracle you were here.'
'And you are?'
'Captain Branagain.'
'Fletcher Fairhead, welcome onboard the Kirklittle. How many are we looking for?'
The men shook hands, the fire burned, the crews looked out into the wreckage.

Lt. James Caldwell hummed a little ditty as he and his EC-130V Hercules crew made their patrol over the peaceful and all-too-boring Pacific waters. While the crew stared lazily at the various screens and controls before them, Lt. Caldwell and his co-pilot Lt. Peter Trent engaged in idle chatter.

As they moved onto the topic of lift kits for their jeeps at home, something caught Caldwell's eye. A column of flame appeared in the ocean where there had only before been an unbroken sheet of black.

"Holy shit, what the hell is that?" Caldwell asked, pointing.

"Lieutenant, a freighter I was tracking just disappeared off radar," Radar Operator Susan Richards radioed to Caldwell, "It was there about 50 miles away one second, but now, I don't pick up anything."

"Yeah, I think I know what happened to it. Pete, bring this plane to bearing 060. Susan, radio PACINTCOM that we've sighted what appears to be an explosion and are en route to investigate," Caldwell ordered, as the crew rushed to follow his orders.

They never had time to react

One minute, the ship was silently slicing its way through the Pacific waters

The next, explosions rocked the ship, shook crewers from their bunks, knocked over shelves...fires exploded all over the ship...crewmen on deck were pitched over the rail

“What the bloody hell?” yelled Captain Branagain

“Sir, we've been hit, torpedoes, sir, Shes goin down captain.” called the first mate

“Abandon ship, comms, get word to the nearest, tell him the TSV Fairchild has been attacked, and warn them these waters may be hostile, also, try and contact the DDC instillation on Wake, and let them know we're going down, then, get the hell outta here!” said Branagain

“aye sir”

20 crewers of the 50 made it out, some in boats, others with just their life vests, there only hope was on the rescue of a nearby ship, or if SaR craft from the Directorate instillation on Wake could reach them in time.


The message read

“Attention, this is the TSV Fairchild, we have come under attack from unknown ship(s), sustained massive damage, and sinking fast, we require assistance, any friendly nation receiving, please respond....repeating...”

OOC: Philodia, Normaly, we wait until the attackie (me) posts his response before we deicde that happens, such as you picking up my men, which i am greatful for, however, in the future, id wait for a response before doing something. You're new, and im easy going, so, no problem what so ever, just a friendly tip, good luck in this RP :D

Commodore Fairley, Commanding Officer of the 7th Falasturian Deep Sea Squadron, was relaxing in his cabin when the Able Seaman knocked on his door, sounding distinctly hurried. As Fairley opened the door, the Able Seaman began blurting out almost instantly,

"Sir, trouble Sir! We recieved an Sos from the TSV Fairchild, registered Transnapastain, Sir. Requesting help, Sir. Orders, Sir?"

Snatching the comm. from the man, Fairley replied, "First, slow yourself down, man. Right, now where was this communique broadcasted from?" The Able Seaman reeled off a list of cooardinates. "Right, how far is that?"

"At present speed and conditions, two hours, Sir."

Brushing past the young enlisted sailor, Fairley began a brisk pace to the bridge, the Able Seaman struggling to catch up behind him.

"Go to Radioman Howes. Tell him to broadcast our position. Tell him we are heading to their coordinates. Then signal the fleet, all ahead full, diamond formation. Tell them to proceed with all caution."

"Aye, Sir!" The Able Seaman turned, and spun, heading in the directions of the stairs up to the radio room. Fairley let off a smile, and thought, Finally, a chance for some action.



OOC Size of the Falasturian 7th Deep Dea Squadron:

3 Frigates,
8 Patrol Boats

Enough to sink a sub, but enough to let one get away too, depending on what you want to do, or how I play it....

Edit: Quadruple Post

Edit: Quadruple Post

Edit: Quadruple Post

What kind of sub is it ? is it a SSBN,SSGN ETC..

[OoC] Indeed that would make sense.... just far too excited.... soz... (foot very much in mouth)

"Holy shit!" Petrov, the SONAR operator, yanked the headphones off his head just as the torpedoes hit the Fairchild. "Cap'n, I don't think those were dummies!"
"Aye. All hands to battle stations! Flood both tubes."
The lights dimmed and the blue emergency lights came on, signaling battle stations. "Let's let him know we're here. Verify range to target."

Ping! Pong! Ping! Pong!

The active radar fired from the bow of the Minhas, hitting the Gallery and coming back the the Alfa-II.
"Conn, sonar. Target range is one-point-three kilometers."

Inside Pacific Fleet Command Headquarters...

Lt. Comm. Wesley Vaughan hurried down the hall, holding a folder tucked beneath his arm. Having been stopped, as always, at various checkpoints, Maj. Vaughan finally made it to an office with a large maple door. The brass nameplate had engraved on it: "R. ADM. OLIVER BARRITZ, Head of Pacific Fleet Aerial Reconnaissance". He knocked, and upon hearing, "Come in," he opened the door and stepped in.

Saluting smartly, he walked up to the desk as the General waved his hand at the formality.

"Sir, something's happened in the Pacific. It seems that one of our air patrols saw a ship explode as it was sailing. The ship in question is," Vaughan said as he flipped through the contents of the folder, "the TSV Fairchild. A merchant ship, as far as we know. Our plane was able to achieve radio contact with a nearby boat that was able to pick up survivors. The captain of that ship said that the ones they picked up looked pretty much dazed and surprised. To the best of our knowledge, Transnapastain is not at war with anyone right now. However, hostile attack has not been ruled out. Of course, it could just be some massive mechanical failure. A freak accident, sir, if you will."

Barritz glanced at the documents Vaughan held and said, "Well, ships don't blow up by themselves for no reason at all. If the ship had mechanical problems of that magnitude, I would have thought that someone would have noticed. The crew would have made some sort of preparations. This smells pretty fishy to me, honestly. Keep patrols running, and keep me informed about the situation. I'll report to my CO's and see if we can open up any diplomatic channels. Someone out there has to know something. Dismissed. Good work, Commander."

With a salute, Vaughan turned on his heel and went back out the office.

In another office...

Adm. Collin Avrin, Commander of the Pacific Fleet, was on the phone with V. Adm. George Ingre, Head of Pacific Fleet Intelligence, R. Adm. Barritz's CO.

"...keep an eye out. Thanks for the report. I'll take the necessary measures."

Putting the receiver back in place, Avrin pressed a button and called for his aide.

"Hohenblitter, issue an order to all ships and units to be on higher alert and to investigate any mysterious signals."

"Yes, sir."

DPUOS Jaguar, Akula-II SSN, Capt. Dmitri Travkin commanding.

"Captain, sonar, new contact bearing two-three-three, designated Sierra-one-three," reported the chief sonarman quietly.
"Very well; can you identify?" requested Travkin politely. This man was responsible for his submarine's eyes and ears, and it would not do to annoy him.
"Distant contact. Probably submerged, but the data's nowehere near good enough for anything positive yet."
"Alright. How far off is he?"
"About...well, best guess about fifty kilometres. Minimum about thirty. Sorry, sir, the information's as vague as hell."
"Not your fault. Heading?"
"Between one-zero-zero and one-three-zero, I think. We're slowly closing him; if we swing right about...three degrees, we should be able to keep the towed array on him." The sonar chief wiped his forehead and
"Very well," replied Travkin. "Rudder right, steer course three-five-two."
"Rudder, right, steer three-five-two, steering aye," came the reply from the helmsman, as the rudder indicator turned five degrees to starboard and the submarine's rounded nose slid onto a slightly more northerly heading. "Steering course three-five-two, sir."
"Revolutions for six knots. Set depth three-two-zero metres, ten degree dive angle," ordered Travkin. The commands were relayed and obeyed swiftly, and the crew all felt Jaguar tilt beneath them. Travkin wandered back to his sonar chief.
"Anything new?"
"Firming up a little. Speed probably between five and ten knots."
"Hmm," Travkin mused, as the sonarman closed his eyes and frowned, trying to catch some noise through the headphones. He walked back to the electronic tactical map that took up one corner of the bridge, examining the contacts they knew. Who are you, my friend? You are quiet, but not so quiet; you are fast, I suspect, yet not using it. You will be an interesting prey.

"Holy shit!" Petrov, the SONAR operator, yanked the headphones off his head just as the torpedoes hit the Fairchild. "Cap'n, I don't think those were dummies!"
"Aye. All hands to battle stations! Flood both tubes."
The lights dimmed and the blue emergency lights came on, signaling battle stations. "Let's let him know we're here. Verify range to target."

Ping! Pong! Ping! Pong!

The active radar fired from the bow of the Minhas, hitting the Gallery and coming back the the Alfa-II.
"Conn, sonar. Target range is one-point-three kilometers."

OOC: you said earlier you were a couple of hundred kilometers off. I don't think you could get 1.03 km from my sub and not be heard. THere is no way to explain the distance mix up here or fact you got so close. I will let you continue RP, but restart the approach to allow reaction.

IC: 1 day later

The Galaxy made a run at 15 knots on a northwesterly heading of 315. SHe was below her cavitation speed of 18 knots and still pretty silent. She was now running at 5 knots.

"Bring us up to Periscope depth," ordered the captain.

"10 degrees up, blow air into ballast tanks, surface, surface," called the COB.

"aye sir, coming up 10 degrees for new depth 075 feet," answered the diving officer.

at PD

"Radio, raise the ESM mast," aye sir.

"Conn, Radio, new contact bearing 135 designate contact Echo 1. It appears to be emmiting electronic pulses, but no active radar. I believe this is fellow IDF AEGIS Ticonderoga cruise USS Pharris," called Radio.

"Set condition 1SW," ordered the captain.

"Aye, aye, BATTLESTATIONS!," cried the XO.

over 1MC[/]General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands man your battlestations for Surface Warfare," called the COB.

"Captain, that is a friendly," interupted the Navigator.

"We have no friendlies, only enemies, we are not of the IDF navy anymore, we are free hunters," answered the Captain.

"yes sir," said the Navigator showing nervousness.

"Weps, set Echo solution for tubes 1 and 3, loaded with TASM anti-ship tommahawk missiles," ordered the captain.

"Aye sir."

OK, lets come to 150 feet for launch depth, said the Captain.

"aye sir."

"flood tubes, equalize, and open."

"Torpedo room reports ready for launch," said Weps.

"match bearings and fire."

"units running normally captain," said the WEPs officer as the boat shuddered with the expeled air.


[i]ABOARD TICONDEROGA CLASS USS PHARRIS

Bosun, get me coffee please," called the captain from his chair on the bridge. He was indulging himself and looking forward to 6 months leave after a long 9 month deployment.

"looking forward to seeing the family again Skip?" asked the Bosun.

"Ah, you know the answer Chuck, of cour..

"CONN Radar, VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE! getting missile radar bearing 225, range is 4 miles," yelled the RADAR operator. "Too close to fire missiles."

"Battlestations!" yelled the captain. "Fire Phalanx, take the Vampires out.

The detection and order came too late. The 1st TASM was at a range of 250 yards when the Phalanx just forward of the superstructure destroyed the missile. The warhead exploded too close to the ship. The 1,000 pound warhead sent much of its energy forwards. The fragments ripped through the bridge, CIC, radio, and the rest of the forward superstructure. Fires erupted all over the top superstructure. The Phalanx was destroyed.

This allowed the 2nd missile to send its full force into the Pharris. The missile struck 10 feet above the waterline aft of the superstructure. It hit the aft VLS magazines causing many secondary explosions. These sent fragments throughout the ship from stern to bow. All the crew were either injured or killed. The aft 150 feet of the ship had desintigrated or already sunk. The rest of the ship would go down in 2-3 minutes. No one would survive.

BACK ON GALLERY

"Target destroyed captain," called SONAR. "getting break up noises."

"Emergency dive, take us down 20 degrees set depth 1650 feet," yelled the captain.

"Dive aye," called the Diving officer.

"DIVE! DIVE!," called the COB over the 1MC amist dive alarms."

Bring us down to 5 knots," ordered the captain.

"aye sir, ahead 1/3," answered the helm.

3 hours later at IDF naval HQ

"Sir, we lost the AEGIS cruiser USS Pharris. There are reports of explosions in the areas. It was near the loss of USS Gallery." called the Vice Admiral and Chief of Staff to the Commander in Chief.


"I think they are related. SOmeone is hunting us," called the Commander in Chief of all naval forces.

"I recommend the sending of a CVBG to the region. Other nations are mobilizing there, something is going on." said the Vice-Admiral.

"Make it so, send the 2nd CVBG," called the captain.

OOC: It has
1 Nimitz
3 Farragut
2 Ticonderoga
2 Burke DDG
1 Perry
1 Kidd
2 supply ships

"Holy shit!" Petrov, the SONAR operator, yanked the headphones off his head just as the torpedoes hit the Fairchild. "Cap'n, I don't think those were dummies!"
"Aye. All hands to battle stations! Flood both tubes."
The lights dimmed and the blue emergency lights came on, signaling battle stations. "Let's let him know we're here. Verify range to target."

Ping! Pong! Ping! Pong!

The active radar fired from the bow of the Minhas, hitting the Gallery and coming back the the Alfa-II.
"Conn, sonar. Target range is one-point-three kilometers."

OOC: you said earlier you were a couple of hundred kilometers off. I don't think you could get 1.03 km from my sub and not be heard. THere is no way to explain the distance mix up here or fact you got so close. I will let you continue RP, but restart the approach to allow reaction.

IC: 1 day later

The Galaxy made a run at 15 knots on a northwesterly heading of 315. SHe was below her cavitation speed of 18 knots and still pretty silent. She was now running at 5 knots.

"Bring us up to Periscope depth," ordered the captain.

"10 degrees up, blow air into ballast tanks, surface, surface," called the COB.

"aye sir, coming up 10 degrees for new depth 075 feet," answered the diving officer.

at PD

"Radio, raise the ESM mast," aye sir.

"Conn, Radio, new contact bearing 135 designate contact Echo 1. It appears to be emmiting electronic pulses, but no active radar. I believe this is fellow IDF AEGIS Ticonderoga cruise USS Pharris," called Radio.

"Set condition 1SW," ordered the captain.

"Aye, aye, BATTLESTATIONS!," cried the XO.

over 1MC[/]General Quarters, General Quarters, all hands man your battlestations for Surface Warfare," called the COB.

"Captain, that is a friendly," interupted the Navigator.

"We have no friendlies, only enemies, we are not of the IDF navy anymore, we are free hunters," answered the Captain.

"yes sir," said the Navigator showing nervousness.

"Weps, set Echo solution for tubes 1 and 3, loaded with TASM anti-ship tommahawk missiles," ordered the captain.

"Aye sir."

OK, lets come to 150 feet for launch depth, said the Captain.

"aye sir."

"flood tubes, equalize, and open."

"Torpedo room reports ready for launch," said Weps.

"match bearings and fire."

"units running normally captain," said the WEPs officer as the boat shuddered with the expeled air.


[i]ABOARD TICONDEROGA CLASS USS PHARRIS

Bosun, get me coffee please," called the captain from his chair on the bridge. He was indulging himself and looking forward to 6 months leave after a long 9 month deployment.

"looking forward to seeing the family again Skip?" asked the Bosun.

"Ah, you know the answer Chuck, of cour..

"CONN Radar, VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE! getting missile radar bearing 225, range is 4 miles," yelled the RADAR operator. "Too close to fire missiles."

"Battlestations!" yelled the captain. "Fire Phalanx, take the Vampires out.

The detection and order came too late. The 1st TASM was at a range of 250 yards when the Phalanx just forward of the superstructure destroyed the missile. The warhead exploded too close to the ship. The 1,000 pound warhead sent much of its energy forwards. The fragments ripped through the bridge, CIC, radio, and the rest of the forward superstructure. Fires erupted all over the top superstructure. The Phalanx was destroyed.

This allowed the 2nd missile to send its full force into the Pharris. The missile struck 10 feet above the waterline aft of the superstructure. It hit the aft VLS magazines causing many secondary explosions. These sent fragments throughout the ship from stern to bow. All the crew were either injured or killed. The aft 150 feet of the ship had desintigrated or already sunk. The rest of the ship would go down in 2-3 minutes. No one would survive.

BACK ON GALLERY

"Target destroyed captain," called SONAR. "getting break up noises."

"Emergency dive, take us down 20 degrees set depth 1650 feet," yelled the captain.

"Dive aye," called the Diving officer.

"DIVE! DIVE!," called the COB over the 1MC amist dive alarms."

Bring us down to 5 knots," ordered the captain.

"aye sir, ahead 1/3," answered the helm.

3 hours later at IDF naval HQ

"Sir, we lost the AEGIS cruiser USS Pharris. There are reports of explosions in the areas. It was near the loss of USS Gallery." called the Vice Admiral and Chief of Staff to the Commander in Chief.


"I think they are related. SOmeone is hunting us," called the Commander in Chief of all naval forces.

"I recommend the sending of a CVBG to the region. Other nations are mobilizing there, something is going on." said the Vice-Admiral.

"Make it so, send the 2nd CVBG," called the captain.

OOC: It has
1 Nimitz
3 Farragut
2 Ticonderoga
2 Burke DDG
1 Perry
1 Kidd
2 supply ships

OOC: There seems to be confusion about the speed here. I have not exceeded 15 knots ever and have been going 5 knots over 95% of the time. We shouldn't be detected beyond 10 kyards. Even then we should be faint. This is quieter than a Virginia class as it is a more expensive modification with more weapons. Everyone thinks I am going fast, I'm not. Thanks :)

OOC: There seems to be confusion about the speed here. I have not exceeded 15 knots ever and have been going 5 knots over 95% of the time. We shouldn't be detected beyond 10 kyards. Even then we should be faint. This is quieter than a Virginia class as it is a more expensive modification with more weapons. Everyone thinks I am going fast, I'm not. Thanks :)

Ah, but just as the subs get quieter, so the sonars get better, no? :P Still, you've got a point with the speed thing.

OOC: Is it too late to join the fun? Stats on ships I might use availible through the below link.
http://na.halberd.org/index.php?name=PNphpBB2&file=viewtopic&t=13

OOC-Aw crap. Hate it when this happens. Will re-do.

IC-
Holy shit!" Petrov, the SONAR operator, yanked the headphones off his head just as the torpedoes hit the Fairchild. "Cap'n, I don't think those were dummies!"
"Aye. All hands to battle stations! Flood both tubes."
The lights dimmed and the blue emergency lights came on, signaling battle stations. "Let's let him know we're here. Right rudder, mark three-two-seven. Make revolutions for forty knots. We just unzipped our fly. Let's see how this guy likes our boxers."

((OOC-Yes, I can do forty. Max speed for Alfa-II is 47))

OIS Command
Valahalla Command Center
Transnapastain

“Wait wait wait...you're telling me...the Fairchild just got torpedoed?” said General Davis, head of the Office of Internal Security. Which also ran external intelligence, all intelligence agencies report to it.


“Sir...yes sir” reported Colonel Bradley, head of Naval Intelligence. “The crewers have been picked up, and should be returned to us shortly.”

“Options, who did this?” asked Davis

“Volga, maybe, sir?”questioned Bradley

No, the Volgan situation is under control, and their subs should be out this far
“No, the Volgan situation is delt with....who else?”

“ummm, Wolfish? The Coalition against him....maybe even a misfire from a Kaukolastani vessel?”

“Maybe, doubtful, and no.” replied Davis

“Sir..umm....” continued Bradley

“Oh shut up, next time you call me, have your answers ready, dont make them on the fly, every secound you “arent sure:” means more men may die, you understand me, Colonel?

“Y..Yes sir!” he replied

“Good, now, get on the horn with the DDC base at Wake, have them send tugs to reover the hull, and whatever cargo they can, The, dispatch a task force from the 7th, have Pearson lead it, maybe, a carrier, some crusiers, Aries' and a few destroyers, say, 8 ships in all, have them pick our people up, and secure the wrekc for the tugs. Also, get on the hirn with any foregin Pacfici nation and see if they know anything about this...” said Davis

“Sir, yes sir, right away!”


Later that day


The fleet prepared to depart from the Wake Island Base
-3 Cruisers
-2 Aries (AGIES) cruisers
-2 Destroyers
-1 Carrier

OOC: It is never too late to join. Just jump in no invite needed. That is why I call it an Open RP.

IC:
Conn Sonar!, new contact bearing 055, Designate contact Sierra 15. Heavy cavitation sounds. he wants us to know he's there," yelled the Sonarman. "given the speed, it has to be an Alfa class Soviet submarine. Damn, he's going 45 plus.

"Conn aye," replied Captain williams. "Slow to 1/3 ahead. Make turns for 5 knots and keep us quiet. As long as that sub goes that fast, his sonar is blind."

"I don't get it, he's making it easy," said the XO.

"Weps set SONAR data to tubes 5-6. Reload 1and 3 with torps and 2 and 4 with missiles," Ordered the Captain. "Open 5 and 6 after flooding and equalizing pressure."

"aye sir," replied Weps.

"Why is he giving us a firing solution?" asked the XO.

"I don't know, but we will have to set torps to tope speed of 72 knots to get him," replied Weps.

"Make it so," replied the captain.

"Thats it, sir, we're ready to fire 5 and 6," said weps.

"match bearings for 105 and fire now," ordered the CO.

"they fired," said weps.

"set 1 and 3, prepare to fire," ordered the Captain.

"doing it now skip, it will take about 4 minutes to complete the reload," said Weps.

"Good, I want tubes 7 and 8 unfired for reserve right now," said the CO.

OOC: I'm unsure of range, so I'll go with whatever Feazanthia says it is. I guess it is probalby less than 10k yards.

If Frezanthis is at that speed, it lowers torpedo detection range, take that in effect for RP response.

RP NOTE: With all the fleets converging, I want to say this is freestyle RP and you may see your enemies out there and wars could break out. If that happens, good. That is part of the unpredictable fun. if it doesn't, that's just as good.

An Ensign knocked on Captain Brian MacLeod's cabin.
"Come in." Came the reply.
"Sir, we have a report of a civilian ship being sunk and SOSUS stations are reporting torpedo firings and multiple vessels in the area of the sinking."
"Thank you Ensign, return to your post."
"Aye Aye sir."
MacLeod hita button just above his bed as he got up. "XO, sound General quarters, inform the Defender and the Stormrunner that we're moving to investigate a possibly hostile situation. And see if you can get ahold of the Tang by underwater telephone, she's supposed to be in the area."

By the time the Captain reached the bridge, the two Franklin class cruisers and the Flying Dutchman frigate had worked up to forty-five knots, creamy foam rushing down their sides.

"Afternoon XO, looks like we may see some action today, we should probably fire up the PM and switch to stealth running since we don't know who might decide to take a shot at us."
"Already done sir, we also managed to get in contact with the Tang, she's confirmed we're practically invisible to sonar and has headed off at flank speed to scout the area ahead of us."
"Excellent work, steady as she goes then." MacLeod answered, able to relax just slightly at the knowledge that the Megalodon class sub was availible for support.

OOC: It is impossible for a ship to run at flank speed and be silent to SONAR. The ship would cavitate and be so noisy that her own SONAR would be useless. THere would also be heavy engine noises to, but not as loud as cavitation.

OOC; It is impossible to run at flank speed, especially 45 knots and remain stealth on SONAR. You would have heavy cavitation and engine noises. It would be loud enough to completely make your SONAR useless.

OOC; It is impossible to run at flank speed, especially 45 knots and remain stealth on SONAR. You would have heavy cavitation and engine noises. It would be loud enough to completely make your SONAR useless.

OOC: The Prairie-Masker anti-sonar system (A RL system) is a two part system that both eliminates hull flow noise and kills cavitation noise by preventing the popping bubbles that are the cause of cavitation. In addition, at up to forty-five knots Franklin class cruisers are propelled by pumpjets, further reducing the noise made. Past that they have to engage their propellers, at which point they become very noisy. Please note, I do play a nation at around roughly 2060-2100, if you wish, I can tone down my ships to modern standards as I have donw before for various RPs.

OOC: The Prairie-Masker anti-sonar system (A RL system) is a two part system that both eliminates hull flow noise and kills cavitation noise by preventing the popping bubbles that are the cause of cavitation. In addition, at up to forty-five knots Franklin class cruisers are propelled by pumpjets, further reducing the noise made. Past that they have to engage their propellers, at which point they become very noisy. Please note, I do play a nation at around roughly 2060-2100, if you wish, I can tone down my ships to modern standards as I have donw before for various RPs.

OOC: It would help if you go to 2010 tech level please. Sorry for not mentioning earlier. But, I add that Prairie Masker works to make small bubbles to absorb engine noise, not cavitation.

IC: The Gallery went up above the layer to raise her ESM mast again. She was running at 4 knots in order to keep the ship silent. Her aenoich tiles were very good at helping avoid detection to this point. The ESM was up for only 3 seconds. The thin wire was invisible to RADAR and found her target.

She found 3 targets of the Grimdale fleet. 1 moving very fast and 2 moving slower.

"Lower mast, dive the ship to depth 150 feet," called the CO.

"Dive aye," called the Diving officer again.

The COB made his regulare call and sounded alarms.

"Weps lets take tubes 2,4,7,8,9,10 with TASMs now," ordered the captain.

"All will be done in a few minutes," replied WEPS.

a few minutes later

"Set the tubes for launch, bring up 6 of the 12 VLS with TASM for their launch to," called the captain.

"I can do it, you are keeping us busy skip," called Weps.

"start matching ESM data to tubes, flood, equalize, open." ordered the captain.

"match bearings and fire all tubes as quick as possible," ordered the captain.

Within 90 seconds, all the missiles launched and the crew worked to reload 4 of the tubes with missiles and 2 with torpedoes.

4 of the missiles went for the lead ship and 8 for the 2 trailers. Range was 25 miles to target. The missiles flew at low altitudes to remain undetected as long as possible.

The sub went down to 1650 feet to duck below the layer. She continued at 5 knots at low power to the reactor. She would get the results via SONAR.

OOC: Thanks, been awhile since I read up on the subject so I'm a little rusty.

OOC: Thanks, been awhile since I read up on the subject so I'm a little rusty.
OOC: I learned what I know from books both non-fiction and Tom Clancy (which might as well be non-fiction when it comes to Technical info)

OOC: Ummm....who has my people? Id like to meet with you and get them back...let me nmow via radio and ill dispatch soem choppers

OOC: Can I recommend Choosers of the Slain? I forget who it's bye, but it a great naval warfare book.

IC: "Incoming! Multiple incoming missiles, I count twelve inbound!"
"Hard starboard emergency, initiate datalink, all ahead emergency flank, begin jamming, launch decoys, activate radar stealth, fire chaff, all guns open fire! Get those ASROC's on that launch point now!"
A chorus of aye's came back as the Werewolf threw herself into a hard starboard turn that had her deck at a forty-five degree angle, even as airborne and water borne decoys, set to transmit radio and radar frequencies, and chaff launched four ASROC's lept from her decks, aimed towards the missile's launching points. A twist of a dial and the Werewolf's radar signature went from something appropriate to a large warship to something better fitting a small sailboat. Sixteen five inch guns began to lay down a barrage of proximity fused shells in the paths of the oncoming missiles as pairs Bloodhound SAMs lept off the rails at the rate of two every six seconds. The six 20mm Phalanx gatling cannon that could be brought to bare opened up as the missiles closed in and RAMs picked up anything that got by the decoys and other weapons. Behind the Werewolf the other two ships were mirroring her actions, their weapons tied togeather by the datalink, insuring that every incoming missiles had an equal number of weapons dedicated to defeating it. Meanwhile eight ASROCs deployed over the firing position of the offending submarine.

OOC: Can I recommend Choosers of the Slain? I forget who it's bye, but it a great naval warfare book.

IC: "Incoming! Multiple incoming missiles, I count twelve inbound!"
"Hard starboard emergency, initiate datalink, all ahead emergency flank, begin jamming, launch decoys, activate radar stealth, fire chaff, all guns open fire! Get those ASROC's on that launch point now!"
A chorus of aye's came back as the Werewolf threw herself into a hard starboard turn that had her deck at a forty-five degree angle, even as airborne and water borne decoys, set to transmit radio and radar frequencies, and chaff launched four ASROC's lept from her decks, aimed towards the missile's launching points. A twist of a dial and the Werewolf's radar signature went from something appropriate to a large warship to something better fitting a small sailboat. Sixteen five inch guns began to lay down a barrage of proximity fused shells in the paths of the oncoming missiles as pairs Bloodhound SAMs lept off the rails at the rate of two every six seconds. The six 20mm Phalanx gatling cannon that could be brought to bare opened up as the missiles closed in and RAMs picked up anything that got by the decoys and other weapons. Behind the Werewolf the other two ships were mirroring her actions, their weapons tied togeather by the datalink, insuring that every incoming missiles had an equal number of weapons dedicated to defeating it. Meanwhile eight ASROCs deployed over the firing position of the offending submarine.

OOC: How many hit?

IC: The Gallery continued her dive. The ASROCs had been fired from the wrong point as the missiles ran below water for 1.5 miles. She made the move to run towards the enemy fleet. She was now at 3 miles from the Wherewolf. The suidide speeds she ran at made her so loud that the sonarman had to tune down the volume or get ear damage. The noise not only blinded Werewolf, but provided a noise cover for her to hide from the trailing element.

"Weps snapshot fire down bearing 175. tubes 1,4,and 5. I want to make sure we kill her. Set speed to 40 knots, that will keep them quiet. closind speed of 85 knots. total run time of over 2 minutes," yelled the captain.

"Tubes ready," called weps.

"Fire!"

After the return shots were fired, the CO checked on the ASROC torps. 1 started pinging actively since the Gallery was now silent. This would be a test of the aenoich tiles. He realized that these torps had no chance of hitting and were meant to cause him to speed up make a good passive signature for another launch. THey never expected him to hide in Werewolf's noise.

OOC-I'm not TOO familiar with submarine warfare...I'm more of a surface guy. But yes, I know that I'm blind at forty knots.

IC
"Alright. That's enough. All stop."
"All stop, aye."
The bronze screw of the Minhas slowed and stopped. That's when they heard it.
"Conn, sonar! High-speed screws, torpedoes in the water! They're locked on us!"
"Christ! Launch countermeasures, full spread. Left full rudder! Make revolutions for twelve knots!"
Four green cylindrical noismakers hit the water as the Alfa-II turned away and began spinning its screw.
"Cap'n? What're we doin?"
"He probably thinks we're an old Alfa, one of those Soviet jobs. He probably doesn't know about this class. At twelve knots, it'll be hard for him to track us."
"And the torpedoes?"
"To Hell with the torpedoes. Those countermeasures should throw them off long enough for us to get a firing solution. I hope to Christ that this works, otherwise we'll have a war on our hands."

For a brief moment the sky was a welter of explosions and then silence fell over everything. Designed to defend carriers against massed air attack, the pair of cruisers had swatted aside the small attack with contempuous ease, the frigate's fire power adding only slighty to their defensive ability.
"All ahead one thrid, deploy the towed array, all ships begin active pinging, standard search pattern."
"Sir, no luck on the ASROCs, they're all circling without a target. Whoever this joker is, he's good."
"Then we'll just have to be better. No one shoots at my ship and gets off scot free. Radio room, get off a report to Demark base."

Each of the cruisers, towed arrays trailing behind them began setting up a box pattern, working the outer edges of the area where the enemy sub was suspected. Meanwhile the frigate covered the center, her active sonar ceaselessly searching for the hostile sub.

The Kirklittle veered towards the nearest port [OoC suggestions?] making the best speed it could at the request of the Fairchild Captain. Having used the ship's radio to report in, Branagain emerged from the bridge onto the deck.

Fletcher stood on the deck of his ship, and waited for the man to approach.
'Someone attacked you. That wasn't some random explosion. You were attacked.' he said. 'Tell me captain, why is that? What's so special about your ship, your crew, your cargo, or you? If they know you're on my ship, am I screwed too?'

OOC: Ummm....who has my people? Id like to meet with you and get them back...let me nmow via radio and ill dispatch soem choppers

OOC I'm sending my squadron over there mainly to pick them up. I haven't done yet, but seeing as neither has anyone else, I'll post an IC move picking them up right about now.....

Fairley turned from the Captain of his flagship, the IFS White Fury, who had just made his report on the progress of the squadron. It had been most of two hours since they had recieved the SOS, and most of an hour since they had first seen the pillar of smoke on the horizon, but only now, finally, was their destination in sight. He thought he could see ships, right in the area where the smoke had eminated before the merchantman had sunk. Were they hostile? Squinting, then snapping up his binoculars, Fairley gazed out at the ships, trying to identify their class. Giving up, he turned to a midshipman at an electronics station, and ordered the ships indentified. Listening to the readouts, identifying all the ships as friendly, he turned to a young radioman who was spinning a pen in his fingers as waited for a task. Ordering the radioman to message the Admiralty with their progress, he turned back to Captain Loxham,

"Looks like we're finally at our destination. Now to find out what on earth happened here, two hours ago."

"Yes Sir. Plan of action?" The Captain took off his cap, wiping the sweat from it. The weather was sure nothing compared to the Equatorial work the Squadron had been engaged in recently, but all the same....

"Go into there, find out what everyone else knows, and get out of here. If the Admiralty wants to sort something out, they can send a flotilla. We're a security force, not a detective agency, and I never liked looking into mysteries anyway."

"Yes, Sir. So we'll be on our way in a few minutes?"

"Most likely."

An slightly aging Lieutenant turned to Fairley, and reported, "Sir! We have lifecraft in the water, just visible now, Sir!"

"Has noone else picked them up?"

"No, Sir! Seems they're too busy with something else, Sir."

"Very well. Set course to pick the survivors up."

The squadron had been sailing a few minutes more, and was turning to intercept the lifecraft, when a Sub-Lieutenant turned from his post at sonar, and cursed.

"Language, Sub-Lieutenant!"

"Sorry, Sir, but, submerged contact, Sir!"

"A sub? Class? Nationality?"

"Can't tell yet, Sir. Am investigating, Sir. Seems to be active, though."

"Could this be our mysterious assassin?"

"Could be, Sir. Looks like this is what the other ships are preoccupied with."

The Commodore swore under his breath. "We're not outfitted for ASW. Not for more than a few torpedos, anyway. Trust my luck! Captain, have the Squadron pick up those survivors, and have their lifecraft attached to the back of one of the frigates, can't leave them lying on a major trade lane. I want to leave that sub to the other ships in the area. Perhaps we can finish her off, but we stand little chance of winning if we are their target."

OOC If any of this is inaccurate - as in where certain ships, especially the rogue sub, are - please tell me and I will edit. Consider the survivors picked up. 8)

OOC-I'm not TOO familiar with submarine warfare...I'm more of a surface guy. But yes, I know that I'm blind at forty knots.

IC
"Alright. That's enough. All stop."
"All stop, aye."
The bronze screw of the Minhas slowed and stopped. That's when they heard it.
"Conn, sonar! High-speed screws, torpedoes in the water! They're locked on us!"
"Christ! Launch countermeasures, full spread. Left full rudder! Make revolutions for twelve knots!"
Four green cylindrical noismakers hit the water as the Alfa-II turned away and began spinning its screw.
"Cap'n? What're we doin?"
"He probably thinks we're an old Alfa, one of those Soviet jobs. He probably doesn't know about this class. At twelve knots, it'll be hard for him to track us."
"And the torpedoes?"
"To Hell with the torpedoes. Those countermeasures should throw them off long enough for us to get a firing solution. I hope to Christ that this works, otherwise we'll have a war on our hands."

OOC: The torpedoes go active once they have passive contact to make sure they hit. The noisemakers would not be any good out there.

"Sir, message from Demark base."
MacLeod took the message pad from the messenger and nodded his thanks.

TO CAPT BRIAN MACLEOD

MESSAGE RECIEVED, SUPPLIMENTAL TASK FORCE CONSISTING OF THE LIGHT CARRIER WIND RIDER,THE CRUISERS FRANKLIN, HOWLRUNNER, STAR WOLF AND PLYMOUTH PLUS THE FIRGATES SAVIOR AND LIFEBRINGER HAS BEEN DISPATCHED TO PROVIDE ASSISTANCE. ETA THIRTY-SIX HOURS. GOOD HUNTING.

SIGNED, ADMIRAL JOHN WALKER, COMMANDER FIFTH FLEET

MacLeod set the message pad to one side and began considering how to utilize the new resources once they arrived.

OOC: The torpedoes go active once they have passive contact to make sure they hit. The noisemakers would not be any good out there.

OOC-Actually, that's basically what countermeasures are. They throw off active torpedoes. Unless you can give me some evidence to the contrary, you need to re-post.

OOC: The torpedoes go active once they have passive contact to make sure they hit. The noisemakers would not be any good out there.

OOC-Actually, that's basically what countermeasures are. They throw off active torpedoes. Unless you can give me some evidence to the contrary, you need to re-post.

"Sir, message from Demark base."
MacLeod took the message pad from the messenger and nodded his thanks.

TO CAPT BRIAN MACLEOD

MESSAGE RECIEVED, SUPPLIMENTAL TASK FORCE CONSISTING OF THE LIGHT CARRIER WIND RIDER,THE CRUISERS FRANKLIN, HOWLRUNNER, STAR WOLF AND PLYMOUTH PLUS THE FIRGATES SAVIOR AND LIFEBRINGER HAS BEEN DISPATCHED TO PROVIDE ASSISTANCE. ETA THIRTY-SIX HOURS. GOOD HUNTING.

SIGNED, ADMIRAL JOHN WALKER, COMMANDER FIFTH FLEET

MacLeod set the message pad to one side and began considering how to utilize the new resources once they arrived.

OOC: Did any torpedos or missile hit?

The USS Gallery had created chaos. She decided to turn down her power and head for a group of islands. She would go to 400 foot deep waters and rest on the sea bottom to wait for a time to go active again.

"Conn, sonar. Aspect change in target. Looks like he's headin towards the islands."
"Right. Petrov, where are the torpedoes?
"High-speed screw noises dissipating. Looks like they've lost contact and are heading off in the other direction.
"Right. Keep on him, Petrov. Helm, make revolutions for ten knots, and keep us in his baffles."
"Cap'n? Shouldn't we call in? We're supposed to report in to command today."
"Not now, Petrov. If we surface now, we'll lose him."

AT FEAZANTHIAN CENTRAL COMMAND

"Johnson, have we got word from the Minhas yet?"
"No, sir. No word from the Minhas. They're ten hours overdue."
"Yes, I know. It's got me worried. Dispatch the Nissley and the Avalon to the Minhas's last-known location. Have the Avalon do a sweep of the area. I want to know where my sub is."
"Aye, Commander."

[quote=Grimdale]"Sir, message from Demark base."
MacLeod took the message pad from the messenger and nodded his thanks.
OOC: Did any torpedos or missile hit?

OOC: Check back a couple of posts, the missiles failed and I thought the torpedoes were going after that Alfa submarine.

[quote=Grimdale]"Sir, message from Demark base."
MacLeod took the message pad from the messenger and nodded his thanks.
OOC: Did any torpedos or missile hit?

OOC: Check back a couple of posts, the missiles failed and I thought the torpedoes were going after that Alfa submarine.

OOC: The torpedoes for the alfa were fired awhile ago. I fired a separate barage at you.

IC: "helm, all stop, prepare full turn. Crazy Ivan to check the baffles. Sonar, if nothing comes up I want a Yankee search, LFA active sonar should be used," ordered the CO.

"Conn, sonar. Possible aspect change in target."
"Conn, aye. This guy's a cool customer. He knows what he's do-"
"CONN, SONAR, CRAZY IVAN!"
"Helm, full stop!"
"Helm aye."

The bronze screw of the Minhas slowed and stopped. The Minhas slowed just enough so that it wouldn't hit the other submarine.

"Jesus Christ. This fellow means business," commented the starpom. The mysterious contact had been joined by several others, both surfaced and submerged. The Jaguar hadn't dared even poke a mast above the surface for fear of detection, instead staying deep and running at seven knots. Then all hell had broken loose. Torpedoes had run in every damned direction. Travkin ran through the happenings in his mind: noise of contacts approaching for several directions at once. The first contact, S-13, slowly fading from their towed array. Others speeding up and slowing down. Then suddenly above it all torpedoes in every direction. Explosions. Now they were trying to work out who was left.


"Set depth zero-two-zero metres, five degree up angle. Keep her going slowly, we don't want hull popping."
"Very good sir," replied the XO, and repeated the order to the planesmen and depth control officer. Jaguar took on a five-degree incline. The rise to the surface took thirty minutes.
"Raise ESM mast," ordered Travkin.
"Raise ESM mast, senior watch aye." A pause. "ESM mast raised sir. Three contacts, all of unknown type. Should we begin recording?"
"Yes, record their signature," replied Travkin, suddenly feeling very tired. "XO, once we've got their signatures, set depth three-six-zero and nine knots. We need to catch up a bit or we'll lose him." He turned to the radio operaotr. "Radio, get off the following message to Fleet Command." Travkin read out the message, then handed command to the XO and went to his cabin. Withint three minutes of lying on the bed, he was asleep.

DPUO Fleet HQ

"Comrade admiral, message from SSN Jaguar," reported a young rating.
"Give it here," replied the admiral, his wrinkled features grim. What the hell was Travkin up to now? He read the message:

FROM: SSN JAGUAR
TO: DPUO FLEET HEADQUARTERS

HAVE ESTABLISHED TRACK OF UNKNOWN CONTACT, PROBABLY SUBMARINE. SAID VESSELS VERY PRT VERY QUIET, QUIETER THAN ANY VESSEL PREVIOUSLY RECORDED. APPROX. THREE HOURS AGO (05:12-05:47) MANY TORPEDOES FIRED FROM SEVERAL DIRECTION. EXPLOSIONS FOLLOWED. AM ATTEMPTING PURSUIT OF UNKNOWN VESSEL.
The message finished with the sub's co-ordinates. The admiral's ruddy face cracked into a grin. Travkin had the balls of a lion; if anyone could ID this bastard, it was him.

"Sir, torps inbound! I count three. All ships, emergency turn starboard, fire decoys on my command and initiate operation Damn the Torpedos."
All three ships made hard turns, their own wakes crashing over their bows. "Fire decoys, initiate, all hands, emergency silent!"
Decoys, designed to mimick ship noises were suddenly dumped into the massive knuckle of water the ships had created, as one they actived their Prairie-Maskers and cut their engines, moving on momentum they executed a hard course change, and then a moment later a second course change. Behind them the torpedos homed in on the decoys, deprived of any noise from the ships, and going active, pinged off the huge knuckle of water and detonated as they hit.

"All ships, resume A/S operations, I want that bastard nailed and hard."

OOC: Grimdale, you know you're business, the perfect move was made by you, all torps will miss..

IC: "Conn, Sonar!, active sonar contact bearing 104, angle off the bow 5 degrees. A sub was folowwing us, range of 1200 yards.

"conn aye! Weps, snapshot 2 torpedoes bearing of 104. We got the b******. Fire! active sonar settings now.

"torpedoes fired sir" run time of 15 seconds. his bows are towards us, don't expect any CMs to work for him now.

"Helm, left full rudder, all ahead standard. Make turns for 18 knots, get us clear of here. once on a 10 right from base course, put us down to 1/3 speed

OOC: Thanks, given that I hope to enter the navy when I finish college, I've spent some time trying to work out effective naval tactics.

IC: The three ships once again began to box in the intruder.
"Captain, we have a problem, I'm picking up two contacts on the towed array, in the area, I can't tell which one is which. Defender is confirming both contacts with her own array and the Stormrunner is begining to close to get a better picture with her active sonar. But at the moment the subs are too close, anything we fire at one is just as likely to hit the other."
Captain MacLeod frowned for a moment. Then, with a grim look on his face spoke. "Tell Stormrunner she is cleared to attack with depth charges, the Werewolf and Defender will continue to track the targets. We'll just have to hope god is watching over those poor bastards down there. But we can't afford to let this madman escape."
It was a solemn "Aye, Aye sir." that came back.

"Captain, Sonar, two more torpedoes running at about one hundred degrees, quite distant. They're not heading for us."
"Captain aye," replied Travkin, wishing he could just go back to sleep. "Any idea what they're pointing at?"
"We've got a submarine contact there; I got very faint plant noise, on and off, for the last half-hour."
"What about thirteen?"
"Somewhere roudn there. He's firming up again now, I think he must've decided to speed up a bit. Whoever he is, he's got quite some guts."
"I'll say," grunted Travkin. "He just loosed another pair of live torpedoes, for one thing. Lunatic." He paused and scratched his chin. "Layer depth?"
"One at four-nineteen, sir."
"Mmm." Travkin turned away from the sonar screens. "Set depth four-two-zero metres, revolutions for twelve knots, and steer right to zero-nine-seven." Travkin sat down heavily in his chair. Can he hear us?

The Farragut DDG armed blockade runner variant Genova was a stealth ship her mission was to supply the Gallery. She noticed that her freind was in trouble. She made a very risky move.

"That Grimdale fleet can kill her very quickly," commented the rAdarman

"I know," said the CO "BATTLESTATIONS!"

"I think I know what you're doing Cap'n," said Weps.

"OK, lets fire our SS-22 Shipwreck missiles. We have 32 currently on the deck launchers, lets use them now. We still have more in VLS tubes and this oil ship 5 miles to starboard has more missiles in her secondary fuel bunker," said the captain.

"helm take us abeam to the oiler, lets hide in his radar signature. While he is on our side, he is on a preplanned path and in international waters. He is a neutral merchie in everyone elses eyes. No one will fire in this direction," ordered teh Captain.

"doing it now," said the helm. WE are now abeam

"Fire."

"missiles are firing"

The shipwreck II missiles were GPS guided part of the way to keep down radar emitions and keep down chance of detection. There was a Predator UAV above the Grimdale fleet. The men in CIC would guide the missiles into their targets and could even maneuver by radio to avoid missiles. With 32 launched it was almost guaranteed that metal would go to the bottom. The missiles came in at a speed of over mach 2.75. They had been designed origninally by the Russians to defeat the American AEGIS system. The use of UAV control now allowed them to be guided in on stealth ships. But, with this many missiles, 3 UAVs were up to make sure that the crew could guide in all the missiles even though only 1 was needed.

OOC: That's what you think, these ships were deisgned specifically to defend against this sort of attack, but lets see what happens.

IC: A pair of F-28s on patrol were the first to spot the missiles as they raced over the waves.
"Waring, warning, bandits inbound, we count thirty-two missiles inbound, moving to engage."

The four crusiers and two frigates moved to place themselves between the carrier and the incoming missiles as she despertly began launching more fighters. Heavy jamming, smoke, decoys and chaff was thrown up. Missiles roared out to meet the incoming as five inch guns began to put up a nearly solid wall of metal. Fighters dared their own fleet's defensive fire to shoot down the missiles. As the range closed, 20mm and 25mm phalanx cannon opened up, backed by RAMs. Missile after missile went down in flames or with brillant explosions. But despite their best efforts, caught completely off guard, more than half their defensive systems rendered useless by the guidance method of the missiles, three got through to slam into the frigate Lifebringer, hit by missiles ment for the carrier, but the heavy smoke laid down by the escorts had confused the missile's controllers. She had along with the other ships physically interposed itself between the carrier and the missiles. Flames gushed upward from her superstructure as she absorbed more damage than her designers had ever intended, her back snapped as one of her magazines detonated and she began to settle into the water. The Savior moved to her sister's assistance while the now asembeled and airborne portion of the fleet moved to back track the missile tracks, blood in their eyes. It was an Airborne Radar Warning P-34 Pelican that picked up the massive infrared trace left behind by the missile launches that pointed a finger directly at the attacker. Thirty F-28s and F-28ns moved in for the kill.
"UNKNOWN SHIP, SURRENDER AT ONCE OR BE DESTROYED."
Two of the crusiers broke off from the screen, a bone in their teeth as their sterns dug deep into the water, cranking up to over fifty knots.

OOC: That's what you think, these ships were deisgned specifically to defend against this sort of attack, but lets see what happens.

IC: A pair of F-28s on patrol were the first to spot the missiles as they raced over the waves.
"Waring, warning, bandits inbound, we count thirty-two missiles inbound, moving to engage."

The four crusiers and two frigates moved to place themselves between the carrier and the incoming missiles as she despertly began launching more fighters. Heavy jamming, decoys and chaff was thrown up. Missiles roared out to meet the incoming as five inch guns began to put up a nearly solid wall of metal. Fighters dared their own fleet's defensive fire to shoot down the missiles. As the range closed, 20mm and 25mm phalanx cannon opened up, backed by RAMs. Missile after missile went down in flames or with brillant explosions. But despite their best efforts, caught completely off guard, more than half their defensive systems rendered useless by the guidance method of the missiles, three got through to slam into the frigate Lifebringer. Flames gushed upward from her superstructure as she absorbed more damage than her designers had ever intended. The Savior moved to her sister's assistance while the now asembeled and airborne portion of the fleet moved to back track the missile tracks, blood in their eyes. It was an Airborne Radar Warning P-34 Pelican that picked up the massive infrared trace left behind by the missile launches that pointed a finger directly at the attacker. Thirty F-28s and F-28ns moved in for the kill.
"UNKNOWN SHIP, SURRENDER AT ONCE OR BE DESTROYED."
Two of the crusiers broke off from the screen, a bone in their teeth as their sterns dug deep into the water, cranking up to over fifty knots.

IC: The Gallery saw chaos and an opportunity. She went up to PD. The eSM went up for a few seconds. It was lowered and the sub went to 200 feet. The 12 VLS tubes sent TASMs at the Grimdale fleet. The torpedo tubes added 4 more.

The Gallery went back down to 1260 feet and slowed to 4 knots.



The Genova was on the port side of the large tanker. She was hidden by the large ships Radar cross section. The enemy fleet was far on the starboard side.

The ships SPY-1D radar picked up the enemy planes. The ship fired off 50 SM-4 missiles at the enemy planes. These AEGIS missiles were the most advanced with the most advance guidance system

"High-speed screws, TORPEDOES IN THE WATER! THEY'RE LOCKED ON US!"
"Launch countermeasures, emergency blow!"

The green countermeasures hit the water again, masking the Minhas's sound as it blew its ballast tanks and rocketed to the surface.

OOC: Um, just so you know, the carrier fleet is a few hundred miles from the point of conflict, but if you want to say your sub launched a bunch of missiles just as my ships were closing in to attack, thereby pinpointing her location, that's fine by me.

IC: The Captain of the Howlrunner had a grim smile as he watch the aircraft begin to go evasive, punching off countermeasures, jamming, and many were diving down and using the tanker for cover.
"Lieutenant, that tanker is fully loaded with aviation fuel if I remember, correctly."
"Yes sir."
"Good, open fire on the tanker. Even if the blast doesn't destroy that damn raider, it will sure as hell badly damage her, and it will definitely mess her up badly enough to wreck her stealth signature."
"Aye aye sir."
"Guns, fire at will."

As the surviving planes broke off to clear the tanker and move in on the incoming missiles, alerted by MacLeod's task force of the launch more planes roared off the carrier's deck to intercept the missiles while they were still a few hundred miles from the small fleet. The Howlrunner fired six rounds of five inch ammunition, three HE, three AP into the tanker. Loaded with highly flammable aviation fuel, the tanker went up like a miniature nuke. The flash would have blinded the bridge crew if the glass hadn't polarized, for roughly a mile around the heat was enough to evaporate the top several feet of water as a massive mushroom cloud reached for the sky, the shockwave was powerful enough that it threatened to knock several of the jets out of the air, even several miles away.

Meanwhile, back at the scene of the submarine attack...

Captain Hunter of the Stormrunner watched as a salvo of missiles broke the surface practically under his nose.
"Radio room, get a message off to the fleet, missiles inbound. Sonar, if you didn't know which sub was which, you do now, guns, commence the attack."
"Aye sir, we have him close to the surface, he's trying to go deep, but we have a tight lock."
It was a situation most antisubmarine officers could only dream about, a confirmed enemy, caught practically on the surface, his position pinpointed, and a full load of depth charges. Missing was next to impossible.
As the frigate thundered overhead, it's keel only just missing the top of the desperately submerging submarine, four depth charges were flung over the side while six were rolled off the stern of the ship. Years of training and actual combat experience came together as depth charge after depth charge was flung over the side at the submarine as it tried to seek safety in the depths.

The officers of the Genova knew they were doomed. The captain ordered the 64 remaining shipwreck missiles to be fired at the enemy fleet.

They then fired out the rest of their SAMs at the planes. With a 150 mile range, they couldn't fly out of it. The AEGIS radar went up to 8 million watts of power, more than enough to defeat jammers or CMs as the missiles bore in.


When the tanker was hit, the Genova was killed. The explosion engulfed the ship and all who inhabited her.



OOC: diving behind the tanker would not protect planes from SM4s.

The Gallery is disengaging and took her nuclear reactor off line to run on the completely silent AIP 18 hour batter at a speed of 6 knots. She went northeast. She would bring the reactor to low power and recharge the battery when it ran out.

"Sir, things have quietened down again. I have some noise bearing zero-two-seven. Sounds like a surface ship going under."
Travkin sighed. Their quarry had got away again, and left another trail of destruction.
"Chief," he ordered solemnly, "have men stand by at the hatches with rafts. Stand by to assist survivors."
"Aye sir."
Jaguar broke the surface in among the pitifully small number of survivors. Her men worked swiftly to toss aboard the emergency liferafts, worried that the submarine might return. They bid the men in the water a sympathetic farewell; then Jaguar dived below the ocean again and began to follow her quarry at seven knots.

OOC: I'm having issues with a ship that can launch 64 ship killers in the space of a few seconds, but I'll run with it. Not to mention a pointblank shallow depth charge attack. And your sub is being lashed by active sonar, giong silent is not going to get them away by itself.

IC: Without human controlers, forced to rely on more easily fooled systems, and up against alert warships and airborne fighters, the missile barrage never stood a chance. With the directing radar of the ship gone, the Grimdalian planes watched as the SAMs went ballistic.

Meanwhile the Howlrunner continued to maintain contact through her own active sonar and the sensitive passive towed arrays on the two crusiers. Every few minutes she would make another run, dropping more depth charges.

"Conn, sonar. We lost him. Torpedoes are heading away from us."
"Conn, aye. Where'd he go, Petrov?"
"Dunno sir. Just lost him."
"He's running on battery then. What was his course before we lost contact?"
"South-southwest, sir."
"Make revolutions for six knots. Helm, course zero-eight-two."

Travkin ambled back into the bridge, chomping on a ham sandwich from the galley. His ship was running as quietly as she could at this speed. He was hellbent on not losing his quarry this time. Occasionally his thoughts had turned to the men in the water, but he put them aside. They had called in their position while surfaced, and had pursued the enemy sub for some time now. The contact was too damned faint for his liking, and seemed to be at about the same depth as they were, which made him nervous. If this thing were a diesel-electric, his sub could blunder right into her.
"I think the computer's got something," murmured the sonar chief, pointing to a flashing amber light on his display.
"Hmm?" replied Travkin, and came over. He glared at the display, wishing it didn't say what it was saying: the computer thought, with about 50% certainty, that their quarry was a Virginia class SSN. Great. He was trying to fight a sub that was just as quiet as his and that had better sonar to boot. "How often is this contraption wrong?" he asked hopelessly.
"Seldom wrong, captain. But not always right. Look at the profile of the Galaxy class. Very similar." The sonarman pressed a button, cycling through the profiles; yes, Travkin noted, they were very similar. But the Galaxies were all-but undetectable; in fact, to his knowledge only once had one ever been heard before, and her track had been lost after three hours. Interesting.
"Range?"
"Between...oh, about twenty and twenty-seven kilometres. He's only making six knots, so we're gradually closing on him." Travkin nodded and turned to his XO.
"Set depth to 520 metres. The deeper we can get the better."
"Aye, sir. Set depth five-two-zero metres, five degree dive angle."

OOC: I'm having issues with a ship that can launch 64 ship killers in the space of a few seconds, but I'll run with it. Not to mention a pointblank shallow depth charge attack. And your sub is being lashed by active sonar, giong silent is not going to get them away by itself.

IC: Without human controlers, forced to rely on more easily fooled systems, and up against alert warships and airborne fighters, the missile barrage never stood a chance. With the directing radar of the ship gone, the Grimdalian planes watched as the SAMs went ballistic.

Meanwhile the Howlrunner continued to maintain contact through her own active sonar and the sensitive passive towed arrays on the two crusiers. Every few minutes she would make another run, dropping more depth charges.

OOC: the 64 missile point is actually a reality. the whole purpose of VLS is you can launch all your missiles in under a minute.

IC: Conn Sonar, active sonar contact lashings above us.

"Dive us deeper, get to 1400 feet, the layer is 1280. If we get below, we are safe from surface ACtive Sonar.

"aye sir, diving now."

Helm, set course 058. Take us towards san Francisco. No one will guess this one.

"Aye sir'

The plan was to get within 1,000 miles and fire at the Golden GAte and Oakland Bay Bridges.

OOC: Didn't think I'd blow that tanker did you? And can we get an ammo count off that sub please?

IC: The Executive Officer came over. "Captain, we've lost contact on the target with our active sonar, but the Werewolf and Defender are managing to keep her on their towed arrays, but only just. She's altered course to the west. We're also running low on depth charges."

"Continue to follow, cease depth charging. Damned if I know how they evaded that first salvo, it had to have been right on top of her. We'll have to wait for the fleet to arrive to nail her I guess."

"Sir, we could always try a wire-guided torpedo, whatever happens, he'll have to react to it."

"No, not for the moment anyway. I think the only way we're gonig to nail this guy is to simply mob him. But he has to be running low on ammo by now. He's fired enough missiles and torpedoes to put a good chunk of someone's merchant marine on the bottom. As it is, the bastards on that stealth ship nailed the Lifebringer and ten of our planes. Not to mention delaying the fleet by several hours. At least we're headed directly towards them now though."

"I guess there is that sir."

OOC: Didn't think I'd blow that tanker did you? And can we get an ammo count off that sub please?

IC: The Executive Officer came over. "Captain, we've lost contact on the target with our active sonar, but the Werewolf and Defender are managing to keep her on their towed arrays, but only just. She's altered course to the west. We're also running low on depth charges."

"Continue to follow, cease depth charging. Damned if I know how they evaded that first salvo, it had to have been right on top of her. We'll have to wait for the fleet to arrive to nail her I guess."

"Sir, we could always try a wire-guided torpedo, whatever happens, he'll have to react to it."

"No, not for the moment anyway. I think the only way we're gonig to nail this guy is to simply mob him. But he has to be running low on ammo by now. He's fired enough missiles and torpedoes to put a good chunk of someone's merchant marine on the bottom. As it is, the bastards on that stealth ship nailed the Lifebringer and ten of our planes. Not to mention delaying the fleet by several hours. At least we're headed directly towards them now though."

"I guess there is that sir."


Ammo count is 14 torps, 3 SM-1 VLS sams, 4 TLAMs (none launched yet) 4 TASMs, 2 harpoons

Ammo count is 14 torps, 3 SM-1 VLS sams, 4 TLAMs (none launched yet) 4 TASMs, 2 harpoons

Much thanks, was getting hard to keep track.

I would like to point out that Genova is dead at this point

how many of the 64 missiles hit?

"Surface the ship. Where's that damned friagate?" asked Travkin sourly.
"Bearing three-zero-one sir. Range about 9 thousand metres," returned the sonarman.
"Right. And the Virginia?
"Last we knew she was heading on course zero-three-zero, or thereabouts, fading slowly."
"Shit," muttered Travkin. "XO, once we're up make sure that frigate knows we're here; I want to see if we can make some sort of deal with them."
"We don't even know whose side they're on, sir. For all we know they'll open fire on us."
"If they do that, Vasiliy, you are to assume command, and kill them," growled Travkin.
"Sir, how are you going to get aboard her?" asked the XO. The answer was a scowl, followed by "Ping the frigate, two pings every six seconds."
"Aye sir."
"And get a raft ready with two seamen on one of the escape hatches. I'll row over if needs be."
"Yes sir," replied the XO, raising his eyes heavenward as the Captain went down a ladder.

The Gallery decided not to fire on the San Fran bridges as it approached targeting range. The sub would instead head for the bay and blow up their reactor. The plan would kill many if it succeeded and destroy a beautiful city.

"ahead 2/3, keep us quiet," said the CO

"Helm aye, speed 2/3"

"take rudder left 10 degrees, new course 042,"

"rudder is left coming to course 042 and rudder is now amidships.

"take us up to PD," ordered the captain.

"planes are coming up 10, speed down to 1/3 turns are for 4 knots setting depth 075 feet," answered the diving officer

"raise ESM"

"its up and no one's on the schope," said RADIO.

"lower mast dive the ship to depth 1280 feet,"

"2 soundings of dive alarm down 10 degrees, set depth 1-2-8-0 feet," repeated the XO

"dive alarm sounding now, (over 1MC) Dive, Dive, Dive, said the COB"

"we are down 10 on trim, passing 150 feet and headed down to set depth," said the diving officer

IC: P-34 Pelicans had joined in the hunt, accompanied by Sea Knight Helicopters, F-28n Sea Raptors and inshore corvettes.

On the Werewolf's bridge. "Ok everyone, here's the plan, we finally have that sub pinned. They're in shallow water and we have enough force assembled to kill a fleet of subs. On command every ships and aircraft will drop their torps, immediately after, all ships will commence depth charge runs. We're going to sink this bastard before he can reach the bay."

"Attention all ships and planes, fire on my mark, fire!"
The six Pelicans each dropped four torpedos while ten Sea Raptors and twenty Sea Knights each dropped two. The aircraft cleared out as four cruisers launched four ASROCs each and followed up by flushing their four torpedo tubes. The Frigates and corvettes only managed to add another fifteen torpedos to the mix.

OOC: That's 131 torps in the water, say goodnight Gracie.

"Transients! Transients! I have hydrophone effects!," yelled SONAR. Torpedos in the water bearing 10.. oh wait 203...now 315. I have many converging from many directions."

"BATTLESTATIONS!" ordered the CO. "How many?"

"too many, I think they got us."

"increase to flank, take us up 250 feet above the layer then take us to standard 15 knots. right full rudder, new course 110 degrees. get us a trim of plus 20."

His requests were followed by ayes.

"actually, go flank, emergency blow, full rise on the fair water planes. Helm go left to right. Drop CMs along the way, try to get them in the knuckles of water."

"weps at 200 feet launch our nuclear TLAMS at Oakland and San Fran.

"aye sir.

"we are ate 200 now"

"Fire"

"doing so now, weapons away."

while the weapons launched it was too late for Gallery. a torpedo had active acquisition and went right into the stargboard-aft side. The warhead exploded causing flooding in the engine room. Klaxons sounded, but it was too late to do anything. A second torpedo hit the screw destroying it and the dirve shaft. The ship broke the surface. No one got out. In 3 seconds, it slid below, never to see the light of day again.

The crew of the Grimdale ships heard the haunting sounds of machinery stopping and bulheads collapsing under pressure. The sound of a dying sub could make anyone cry.

OOC: Damn, this is right out of an old novel. Forget the name, but the exact same thing happens, same area too.

IC: "Predictible." MacLeod muttered.

As the missiles broke the surface the waiting ships opened fire. 20mm, 25mm, and 5in guns lashed out as Bloodhound SAMs, RAMs and Adder air-air missiles raced in. From the shoreline, alerted by the tracking fleet, mobile SAMs had been sited, Patriots and other groundlaunched missiles added to the cauldron of fire. When at last cease fire was ordered it took ten minuted for the accumilated smoke to clear.

Captain MacLeod finally pulled his pipe out and lit it. "Best get recovery teams out to begin sweeping the sea bottom, that radioactive material is going to be scattered over several miles of seabed now."

"Holy shit. He's dead, sir. I have breakup noise on the bearing of Sierra-thirteen."
Travkin looked at the sonar display. A small spike was all there was to mark the graves of a hundred men.
"Take us to periscope depth, radio to fleet command. Message reads: UNKNOWN SHIP DESTROYED. AM RETURNING TO BASE. Get that off as soon as we're up."
"Aye sir. What happened to the frigate?"
"Wasn't there when I looked. I guess that was her kill." Travkin sighed and headed for his cabin.