NationStates Jolt Archive


The Edge of the World (Dearth, Closed)

Gurguvungunit
16-09-2007, 22:09
OOC: Feel free, anyone, to jump on this. ATTN especially anyone who is near me.

Seattle, Laurelhurst Palace

King Francis Hanover (nee Edryd), first of the name, stood with his hands clasped. The balcony on which he stood overlooked a large and well-tamed garden, which itself overlooked the streets of his capital city. He was impressed with the speed at which it had risen and pleased with its decidedly Londonesque architecture and modern gaslight system. It was the hub of the Parliamentary Republic, and trade flowed in on rivers, roads and even a rail line. Ships great and small crowded the harbour, some destined for ports across the Pacific ocean and some travelling only so far as Vancouver.

The city itself was changing rapidly, Francis I noted. The great hills to the east were being regraded and settled, a process requiring many young men, a steam contraption, and a great number of oxen. The cities of Cascadia were bustling metropolises, Vancouver and Seattle especially, and housing was urgently needed. Parliament had voted to allocate funds to the 'Denny Project', which resulted in the regrade work that marred his eastern view. Lake Hanover, a long ovoid lake that posed fairly impressive navigational issues, was dotted with small skiffs and ferries. It was backdropped by the pall of smoke emitted by the steam contraption, which itself was doing something to the hills of the Belleview settlement.

Francis I sighed and turned on his heel, pushing open the crystal-glass door to reveal a sitting room and a footman.

"Jones, get me a brandy. I'm in a good mood today."

Seattle Harbour

Commander Kaya Wynn coughed nervously and straightened her uniform jacket. The first day in command of a ship, and she was shivering with excitement. Another tug on the jacket, a bit of fussing with her sword. She tugged the naval cap down a bit as well, and brushed an errant strand of brown hair behind her ear. She settled into the carriage's worn seats, smelling the mixed tobacco and horse funk that characterized a hired vehicle. Commander she might be, but she didn't exactly merit one of the Navy's officers' carriages.

PCS Peacemaker was a riverine Monitor, the first of her class. She had no sails and a rather peculiar design, but the naval designers had praised it as being 'the future of naval combat'. Apparently everyone was doing it, and reports from the United Provinces suggested that America's up-and-coming power broker had a small fleet of them already. Kaya had been given the honour of first command, and she intended to do herself proud. It would go a long way to silencing the voices criticizing women in the armed forces, she expected, if her Peacemaker were to distinguish itself.

And there would be plenty of opportunities. Tensions with those south of the Columbia River were rising, something about a trade dispute that had been running more-or-less nonstop since last august. Kaya remembered reading in the Vancouver Globe and Herald, Cascadia's national paper, about some kind of dust-up over freedom of navigation on the vital Columbia, which ran from deep in Republic territory to the open sea. Hence, no doubt, the Navy Board's commissioning of the odd-looking riverine monitors.

Kaya's mind was jerked back to the present by a rapping on her carriage window. It was the driver, a slightly heavyset man with alarming muttonchops.

"Ma'am? We're here. Pier six, an' that's a right odd looking boat." She gulped, feeling a coil of fear wrap around her insides. She checked herself for wrinkles or creases, fished out a few coins from her pocket and paid the driver. Absorbed in the sight of her new command, Kaya tipped him roughly 300 percent, and he bowed gratefully before depositing her bags and leaving.

Peacemaker gave, at first sight, the impression that it was not one ship, but rather two boats. The first boat was an odd, truncated cone with windows cut in its fo'csle, while the second was essentially a vertical tube from which protruded two guns. Closer inspection revealed a deck, partially awash in Puget Sound's chop, from which protruded both cone and tube. Sailors lined the edges of said deck, their feet and trousers damp with spray. They stood at attention, organized by watch, and at the side of the gangplank were seven men.

Six of these were clearly officers, their sleeves striped with gold. The seventh was a boatswain, who stood with pipe pressed to his lips. Kaya squared her shoulders, took a breath and made for the gangplank. Her vision was swimmy and her gut was doing rather unpleasant things with her spleen that resulted in much interior wriggling and overall nausea. She ignored it as best she could, crossed the gangplank to the sound of pipes, and saluted her new officers.

They were significantly taller than she, which was awkward. "Request permission to come aboard," she said, fighting to keep the quaver out of her voice. It came out a little higher than her usual high alto, but no matter.

"Permission granted," said a man wearing the double stripes of a Lieutenant Commander. He looked to be her XO. Kaya dropped her salute crisply, a motion which they repeated, and fished for her orders.

"To Commander Kaya Elizabeth Wynn,
You are directed to take command of the Parliamentary Cascadian Ship Peacemaker no later than Sixteen September, 1860," she read. "You will thence proceed to the mouth of the Columbia River under tow of PCS Wrath, a frigate of Thirty-Eight guns, whereupon you will begin routine patrol. You are hereby invested with the responsibility of command, et cetera, et cetera, signed, Rear Admiral Grodon on behalf of His Majesty's Board of the Navy, et cetera. Dated, Twelve September, 1860."