Azazia
11-07-2005, 03:23
[ooc: in due time this will make sense to everybody who has a remote interest in Azazia. For now, it's just a small piece of a much larger puzzle.]
HMS Essex
Off the Coast of the Royal Crown Colony of New London
With the change of the season had come a shift in the prevailing winds. Under the cover of tile roofs, both the indigenous Nativans and the Colonials (as the UK immigrants were collectively known) stood watching the gathering clouds on the horizon. Although a small, nearly forgotten part of the United Kingdom, Alice sat square in the midst of the Kingdom’s oil shipments as the offshore oil and gas found itself pumped through undersea lines into the massive storage tanks and shipping centres littering the tropical coastline.
As the winds began to calm to an eerie stillness Lieutenant Michael Lamb crossed the forecastle of his small patrol ship, studying the increasing height of the waves rocking his small boat to and fro. A young officer, Lamb’s appointment to His Majesty’s Ship Essex provided the eager officer with an opportunity to explore the distant territories of the United Kingdom. Especially interesting, as he glanced up to watch a far larger frigate, as the departure of the Royal Navy’s larger vessels meant that Lamb was one of the senior Royal Navy officials present in the colony.
For years prior rebels had plagued Alice and the other English settlements around the island. Marxists, separatists, Islamists – the island had seen them all. Through both aggressive military and political campaigns, coupled with the slow but sure increase in standard of living the rebel threat had largely been suppressed, freeing the frigates and Royal Marines stationed to return to the Home Islands, a home Lamb had not seen in nine months. Nor would he now for sure, the two patrol ships Essex and Sussex were now tasked with defending the seas of New London in addition to a reserve battalion from the Royal Army.
Swinging around the superstructure Lamb climbed inside the cramped bridge to pick up his binoculars to inspect the passing frigate. Sure enough, men were standing on deck saluting the smaller patrol ship – a kind gesture likely ordered by the commanding officer as the rest of the Royal Navy tended to look down upon the little patrol ships and fleet auxiliaries. “Sound the horn if you please, Ensign Hayes.” Lamb smiled at the bright and smiling young woman next to him, if nothing else he at least had an attractive bridge crew.
Ashore, Sir Geoffrey Cunningham peered through his archaic monocle while holding a unlit cigar between his lips. “I say, Adam, things are certainly about to change.”
“Indeed, sir. They most certainly are. Is there anything I can get for you, Governor?”
“No, no, I’m quite alright, Adam. But thank you anyway.”
Cunningham nodded as his chief of staff quietly exited the balcony off the study of the decades old Governor’s Mansion, which sat above a small hill just south of Alice allowing the new governor of New London to watch the frigates and transport pull out of Port Alice – and with them an entire division of Royal Army regulars. Although the insurrections had largely been quelled, the thought of such a significant number of men being rotated home without real replacements worried the governor. Replacing them was a simple battalion of reservists. Not true fighting men, and in place of Royal Navy frigates were glorified dinghies with machine guns.
Nevertheless, the Ministry of Defence had deemed New London as one locale no longer requiring significant military presence. Then again, Minister of Defence Daniel Blair and Cunningham had not gotten along since their days at the university – and Cunningham did not put it past Blair to keep such childish grudges. In the far distance, in the roiling black clouds rolling ever closer a small appearing, but truly large, bolt of lightening struck the sea. Cunningham shrugged; the wet season was upon the island. He turned around and walked inside to the study and shut the large doors to the open balcony.
HMS Essex
Off the Coast of the Royal Crown Colony of New London
With the change of the season had come a shift in the prevailing winds. Under the cover of tile roofs, both the indigenous Nativans and the Colonials (as the UK immigrants were collectively known) stood watching the gathering clouds on the horizon. Although a small, nearly forgotten part of the United Kingdom, Alice sat square in the midst of the Kingdom’s oil shipments as the offshore oil and gas found itself pumped through undersea lines into the massive storage tanks and shipping centres littering the tropical coastline.
As the winds began to calm to an eerie stillness Lieutenant Michael Lamb crossed the forecastle of his small patrol ship, studying the increasing height of the waves rocking his small boat to and fro. A young officer, Lamb’s appointment to His Majesty’s Ship Essex provided the eager officer with an opportunity to explore the distant territories of the United Kingdom. Especially interesting, as he glanced up to watch a far larger frigate, as the departure of the Royal Navy’s larger vessels meant that Lamb was one of the senior Royal Navy officials present in the colony.
For years prior rebels had plagued Alice and the other English settlements around the island. Marxists, separatists, Islamists – the island had seen them all. Through both aggressive military and political campaigns, coupled with the slow but sure increase in standard of living the rebel threat had largely been suppressed, freeing the frigates and Royal Marines stationed to return to the Home Islands, a home Lamb had not seen in nine months. Nor would he now for sure, the two patrol ships Essex and Sussex were now tasked with defending the seas of New London in addition to a reserve battalion from the Royal Army.
Swinging around the superstructure Lamb climbed inside the cramped bridge to pick up his binoculars to inspect the passing frigate. Sure enough, men were standing on deck saluting the smaller patrol ship – a kind gesture likely ordered by the commanding officer as the rest of the Royal Navy tended to look down upon the little patrol ships and fleet auxiliaries. “Sound the horn if you please, Ensign Hayes.” Lamb smiled at the bright and smiling young woman next to him, if nothing else he at least had an attractive bridge crew.
Ashore, Sir Geoffrey Cunningham peered through his archaic monocle while holding a unlit cigar between his lips. “I say, Adam, things are certainly about to change.”
“Indeed, sir. They most certainly are. Is there anything I can get for you, Governor?”
“No, no, I’m quite alright, Adam. But thank you anyway.”
Cunningham nodded as his chief of staff quietly exited the balcony off the study of the decades old Governor’s Mansion, which sat above a small hill just south of Alice allowing the new governor of New London to watch the frigates and transport pull out of Port Alice – and with them an entire division of Royal Army regulars. Although the insurrections had largely been quelled, the thought of such a significant number of men being rotated home without real replacements worried the governor. Replacing them was a simple battalion of reservists. Not true fighting men, and in place of Royal Navy frigates were glorified dinghies with machine guns.
Nevertheless, the Ministry of Defence had deemed New London as one locale no longer requiring significant military presence. Then again, Minister of Defence Daniel Blair and Cunningham had not gotten along since their days at the university – and Cunningham did not put it past Blair to keep such childish grudges. In the far distance, in the roiling black clouds rolling ever closer a small appearing, but truly large, bolt of lightening struck the sea. Cunningham shrugged; the wet season was upon the island. He turned around and walked inside to the study and shut the large doors to the open balcony.