Ibaneza
18-05-2007, 17:46
'The tragic accident involving Ibanezan submarine S-7 on May 18 was a minor event in terms of international geo-political events, yet held much significance to internal politics within the People's Republic. Recent budget cuts due to the worsening economic situation in the early days of the ironically named "Socialist Capitalism" system had reduced morale and angered the chiefs of the Ibanezan People's Military, a group of people not known historically for their belief in a separation of military and civilian politics. The events of May 18 and the following days were to result in crucial changes in the internal power structure of the People's Republic, including the military coup of 2007...'
~Contradictions in Terms: A History of the Ibanezan People's Republic
+++
“Conn, Sonar, reporting contacts.”
Captain Marcus Zudong lifted his eyes from the dimly lit reference map and turned to the intercom system next to the mapping table. He flicked the response switch, wincing momentarily as the dilapidated system let out a high pitched squeak. It was the story of the weary Captain’s life since joining the infant Ibaneza People’s Navy, with low budget spending on the military causing significant problems. Due to the recent downturn in the economy, routine maintenance had been cut back even further, and the vessels of the IPN were suffering as a result. “Sonar, this is Conn, what’ve you got?”
The system crackled with distortion, cutting the first few words from Lieutenant Daniel Smith’s response. “…like a submerged contact, sir, bearing two-eight-niner at seven thousand metres, running on a parallel reverse course of zero-three-zero. She’s running slow and noisy, might be a boomer of some sort.”
Captain Zudong frowned, looking down to check his navigational charts. S-7, his boat, was patrolling just within the twelve mile claimed waters of the People’s Republic, meaning the other vessel was roughly four and a half miles into international waters. It was not unusual to pick up foreign vessels as they traversed international waters, but the possibility of this vessel being a submerged missile submarine made Marcus somewhat nervous. The Captain flicked the reply switch again. “Sonar, this is Conn, designate target Alpha Three and maintain track.”
As he released the switch, Lieutenant-Commander Frederick Falworth stepped across the crowded Control Room to his senior’s side. “Problem, sir?” the second-in-command asked, noting the Captain’s expression.
Zudong smiled grimly. “Foreign contact, possibly a boomer, still in international waters but we’re keeping an eye on her.” He sighed, glancing down at the map. “Fred, let’s come north to zero-three-zero and slow to two-thirds ahead, keep an eye on this one until she’s a bit further away for my comfort.”
Falworth nodded. “Aye, sir.” He turned to the main room. “Helm, twenty-five degrees left rudder, bring us to zero-three-zero and slow to two-thirds.”
The elderly Romeo Class submarine slowed, her screws losing some of their noise as S-7 brought herself about onto a new course, paralleling the foreign vessel from just within Ibaneza territorial waters. Zudong sighed, rubbing his forehead from the headache developing within the red light of the submarine, and flicked on the intercom once again. “Galley, this is the Conn, could someone bring me a cup of coffee and some painkillers from my quar-”
A terrific bang interrupted Zudong, who looked up sharply to the roof of the Control Room. Falworth gripped a side-rail, looking across at the Captain in alarm. “What the hell was-”
Another loud bang interrupted him, and S-7 rolled sharply left, pitching into the ocean. Zudong gripped the map table, steadying himself over the sounds of the crew shouting. He keyed the intercom and took a breath. “Conn to all stations, report!” he yelled.
“Conn, this is Forward Torpedo Bay,” a shaky voice crackled through the distortion. “Tube three has failed, sir, and blown out into the bay. I managed to evacuate the crew and seal the hatch, but I can see the compartment filling with water.”
“Captain!” Falworth interrupted the shaken torpedo officer, pulling himself across to Zudong via various handrails. “Sir, we are going down, forward dive planes are not responding and we have negative pitch of twelve degrees and increasing.”
Zudong swore to himself. “Blow main ballast, emergency surface!” he shouted.
Various voices echoed the command, and an alarm bell rang out shrilly as crewmembers twisted valves desperately to expel water from the ballast tanks. “Ballast tanks are not responding, sir!” a desperate voice cried out.
“Depth now fifty-five metres and increasing!” another voice cried.
Zudong swore again, this time louder. He glanced down at his map charts. S-7 was going down in one hundred feet of water, shallow for a submarine, but an eternity if returning to the surface was impossible. “Try and stabilise our descent as much as possible,” Zudong shouted. “We need to maintain structural integrity when we hit the seabed.”
“Helm, all back full, dive planes to full rise!” Falworth shouted.
The Romeo’s engines reversed, cavitating in the water and sending noise for miles in all directions. Assuming no vessels had heard the explosion, they would certainly hear S-7 in full reverse. The vessel slowed as the engines did their work, but the momentum of the fall was too fast to slow the craft before hitting the seabed. Zudong winced as the vessel came near to the bottom. “Brace for impact!” he called.
S-7 crashed into the sandy bed of the ocean with her nose slightly below level plane. The crew were thrown in all directions as the rest of the Romeo’s hull impacted behind the nose, the still-active screws tearing into the sand, twisting and buckling as propeller blades spun off in different directions. S-7 scraped along the surface with a metallic shriek, rolling to its port before coming to a halt against a rocky outcropping, leaning slightly left and turned rightwards from its original direction.
As the crew began to pick themselves up, Zudong ordered emergency procedures. As the crew shut down all unnecessary systems, the Romeo began transmitting an SOS call on the backup Morse Code transmitters, requesting desperate help in all direction.
(OOC: Looking for someone to be interested in a sub rescue RP, if someone wants to take the role of the foreign submarine that would surely have picked up the noise of the accident and the transmissions. There’s going to be a bit of chaos later when the rescue crew boards the S-7 when some Secret Police get a little touchy, so I’ll try to make this a bit more interesting than a general sub rescue as it develops.)
~Contradictions in Terms: A History of the Ibanezan People's Republic
+++
“Conn, Sonar, reporting contacts.”
Captain Marcus Zudong lifted his eyes from the dimly lit reference map and turned to the intercom system next to the mapping table. He flicked the response switch, wincing momentarily as the dilapidated system let out a high pitched squeak. It was the story of the weary Captain’s life since joining the infant Ibaneza People’s Navy, with low budget spending on the military causing significant problems. Due to the recent downturn in the economy, routine maintenance had been cut back even further, and the vessels of the IPN were suffering as a result. “Sonar, this is Conn, what’ve you got?”
The system crackled with distortion, cutting the first few words from Lieutenant Daniel Smith’s response. “…like a submerged contact, sir, bearing two-eight-niner at seven thousand metres, running on a parallel reverse course of zero-three-zero. She’s running slow and noisy, might be a boomer of some sort.”
Captain Zudong frowned, looking down to check his navigational charts. S-7, his boat, was patrolling just within the twelve mile claimed waters of the People’s Republic, meaning the other vessel was roughly four and a half miles into international waters. It was not unusual to pick up foreign vessels as they traversed international waters, but the possibility of this vessel being a submerged missile submarine made Marcus somewhat nervous. The Captain flicked the reply switch again. “Sonar, this is Conn, designate target Alpha Three and maintain track.”
As he released the switch, Lieutenant-Commander Frederick Falworth stepped across the crowded Control Room to his senior’s side. “Problem, sir?” the second-in-command asked, noting the Captain’s expression.
Zudong smiled grimly. “Foreign contact, possibly a boomer, still in international waters but we’re keeping an eye on her.” He sighed, glancing down at the map. “Fred, let’s come north to zero-three-zero and slow to two-thirds ahead, keep an eye on this one until she’s a bit further away for my comfort.”
Falworth nodded. “Aye, sir.” He turned to the main room. “Helm, twenty-five degrees left rudder, bring us to zero-three-zero and slow to two-thirds.”
The elderly Romeo Class submarine slowed, her screws losing some of their noise as S-7 brought herself about onto a new course, paralleling the foreign vessel from just within Ibaneza territorial waters. Zudong sighed, rubbing his forehead from the headache developing within the red light of the submarine, and flicked on the intercom once again. “Galley, this is the Conn, could someone bring me a cup of coffee and some painkillers from my quar-”
A terrific bang interrupted Zudong, who looked up sharply to the roof of the Control Room. Falworth gripped a side-rail, looking across at the Captain in alarm. “What the hell was-”
Another loud bang interrupted him, and S-7 rolled sharply left, pitching into the ocean. Zudong gripped the map table, steadying himself over the sounds of the crew shouting. He keyed the intercom and took a breath. “Conn to all stations, report!” he yelled.
“Conn, this is Forward Torpedo Bay,” a shaky voice crackled through the distortion. “Tube three has failed, sir, and blown out into the bay. I managed to evacuate the crew and seal the hatch, but I can see the compartment filling with water.”
“Captain!” Falworth interrupted the shaken torpedo officer, pulling himself across to Zudong via various handrails. “Sir, we are going down, forward dive planes are not responding and we have negative pitch of twelve degrees and increasing.”
Zudong swore to himself. “Blow main ballast, emergency surface!” he shouted.
Various voices echoed the command, and an alarm bell rang out shrilly as crewmembers twisted valves desperately to expel water from the ballast tanks. “Ballast tanks are not responding, sir!” a desperate voice cried out.
“Depth now fifty-five metres and increasing!” another voice cried.
Zudong swore again, this time louder. He glanced down at his map charts. S-7 was going down in one hundred feet of water, shallow for a submarine, but an eternity if returning to the surface was impossible. “Try and stabilise our descent as much as possible,” Zudong shouted. “We need to maintain structural integrity when we hit the seabed.”
“Helm, all back full, dive planes to full rise!” Falworth shouted.
The Romeo’s engines reversed, cavitating in the water and sending noise for miles in all directions. Assuming no vessels had heard the explosion, they would certainly hear S-7 in full reverse. The vessel slowed as the engines did their work, but the momentum of the fall was too fast to slow the craft before hitting the seabed. Zudong winced as the vessel came near to the bottom. “Brace for impact!” he called.
S-7 crashed into the sandy bed of the ocean with her nose slightly below level plane. The crew were thrown in all directions as the rest of the Romeo’s hull impacted behind the nose, the still-active screws tearing into the sand, twisting and buckling as propeller blades spun off in different directions. S-7 scraped along the surface with a metallic shriek, rolling to its port before coming to a halt against a rocky outcropping, leaning slightly left and turned rightwards from its original direction.
As the crew began to pick themselves up, Zudong ordered emergency procedures. As the crew shut down all unnecessary systems, the Romeo began transmitting an SOS call on the backup Morse Code transmitters, requesting desperate help in all direction.
(OOC: Looking for someone to be interested in a sub rescue RP, if someone wants to take the role of the foreign submarine that would surely have picked up the noise of the accident and the transmissions. There’s going to be a bit of chaos later when the rescue crew boards the S-7 when some Secret Police get a little touchy, so I’ll try to make this a bit more interesting than a general sub rescue as it develops.)