Finally decided to put up a thread for my Hunt for Red October collection of snips. I'll throw...
Return of Red October(Kancolle/Ryanverse snip dump)
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Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
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Finally decided to put up a thread for my Hunt for Red October collection of snips. I'll throw these up here and on the general snip thread from now on.
Fanfic.net link
Fanfic.net link
Dallas and Krasny Oktyabr
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Dallas and the Krasny Oktyabr:
She really didn't know why she had been sent for, but the CO had sent for her. When the CO sends for you, you don't ask why, you just go. The submarine girl USS Dallas stood outside the door of the commander of all US sub girls, waiting to be told to come in. Dallas knocked three times on the door, and waited. A few seconds later she heard, "Come in," from the other side. She walked in and stood at attention.
"The captain sent for me?" she said.
"At ease Dallas," replied the senior US submarine girl, Captain Wahoo, "A matter has come up that I think you can help us resolve."
"What kind of matter?" Dallas asked, skeptically.
"I read in your file that back in the cold war you were involved in an incident with a particular Soviet missile submarine."
It took Dallas a moment to figure out what Wahoo was talking about, "But, ma'am, that was a long time ago, and no one is supposed to know about that."
"Nothing's secret if you know where to look," Wahoo replied, cryptically.
"What's this about?" Dallas asked.
"A sticky matter with the Russians, and as you are probably acutely aware, our relations with them as of late haven't been as, cordial, as they used to be," Wahoo said. Dallas nodded understanding.
"Captain, what does this have to do with me?" Dallas asked again.
Wahoo didn't answer, but instead leaned down and pressed a button on her desk, "Yeoman, you have her come in. Thank you." Dallas raised a questioning eyebrow, and turned as the door to Wahoo's office was thrown open.
A tall girl walked in and said, "Tovarisch Wahoo." Dallas instantly knew that she was Russian, the sharp, Slavic features, and the long, blonde hair made that painfully obvious.
"May I present the Russian missile submarine, Krasny Oktyabr," Wahoo announced.
"Call me, Red October, or just Red," she replied. Dallas just stood there, looking at Red October, speechless.
"Red October, please meet Dallas, former Los Angeles class fast attack submarine," Wahoo said. It took all of three seconds before Red bounded across the room and scooped Dallas up into a tight embrace.
"It is you," she said, "You are the one. You saved the captain."
"Can't breathe," Dallas wheezed. Wahoo stood up and tapped Red on the shoulder, causing her to drop Dallas, who immediately began to gasp for air.
"You are responsible for my success," Red continued, "I thank you."
"Ma'am," Dallas said once she had regained her breath, "Why am I here?"
"Why don't you explain yourself Red, and let Dallas here your story," Wahoo said.
Red looked down at the floor for a second before saying, "For Russian submarine, I did not spend much time in Russian navy. My captain's mission happened right after my launching, and I decided that I would continue his dream with my new life."
"Tell her the rest of it," Wahoo said.
"To come to America, I sneaked away from my navy," Red said, shuffling her feet, "It was not hard, my comrades are good at fighting, not security."
"And the Russians haven't asked for her return?" Dallas asked.
"Oh they have, the first two time she ran across the Atlantic," Wahoo replied, "They finally gave up and gave her to us to deal with."
"You sailed across the Atlantic twice?" Dallas asked, a note of approval in her voice.
"No, I sail across Atlantic first time," Red replied, "Second time I book Aeroflot flight out of Murmansk to Washington, and no one stopped me."
"I'm assuming I'm here for some reason?" Dallas asked.
"Seeing how Red October is now officially assigned to our outfit as a special observer, she needs a handler. Someone to watch her and keep her out of trouble, and seeing as you two have a history with each other, your name came up," Wahoo said, "She'll bunk with you, and it'll be up to you to familiarize her with our procedures." Dallas gave Wahoo a wide eyed look, and stood stiff in shock.
"It will be so nice to be with you again tovarisch, you will teach me about your country" Red said, moving to embrace Dallas again, but the smaller girl managed to slip out of her grasp.
"Ma'am, do I really have to do this?" Dallas asked.
"Yes, yes you do lieutenant," Wahoo replied, "Now get out of here, go show her around, and try not to let everyone on the base know that she is a Russian. I wouldn't want your fast attack sisters to get the wrong ideas."
"Aye, aye, ma'am," Dallas said, begrudgingly, "Come on, Red. Let's go get some food."
"Can we get hamburgers? I like hamburgers, they are such an American food," Red said, following behind Dallas as she left Wahoo's office.
She really didn't know why she had been sent for, but the CO had sent for her. When the CO sends for you, you don't ask why, you just go. The submarine girl USS Dallas stood outside the door of the commander of all US sub girls, waiting to be told to come in. Dallas knocked three times on the door, and waited. A few seconds later she heard, "Come in," from the other side. She walked in and stood at attention.
"The captain sent for me?" she said.
"At ease Dallas," replied the senior US submarine girl, Captain Wahoo, "A matter has come up that I think you can help us resolve."
"What kind of matter?" Dallas asked, skeptically.
"I read in your file that back in the cold war you were involved in an incident with a particular Soviet missile submarine."
It took Dallas a moment to figure out what Wahoo was talking about, "But, ma'am, that was a long time ago, and no one is supposed to know about that."
"Nothing's secret if you know where to look," Wahoo replied, cryptically.
"What's this about?" Dallas asked.
"A sticky matter with the Russians, and as you are probably acutely aware, our relations with them as of late haven't been as, cordial, as they used to be," Wahoo said. Dallas nodded understanding.
"Captain, what does this have to do with me?" Dallas asked again.
Wahoo didn't answer, but instead leaned down and pressed a button on her desk, "Yeoman, you have her come in. Thank you." Dallas raised a questioning eyebrow, and turned as the door to Wahoo's office was thrown open.
A tall girl walked in and said, "Tovarisch Wahoo." Dallas instantly knew that she was Russian, the sharp, Slavic features, and the long, blonde hair made that painfully obvious.
"May I present the Russian missile submarine, Krasny Oktyabr," Wahoo announced.
"Call me, Red October, or just Red," she replied. Dallas just stood there, looking at Red October, speechless.
"Red October, please meet Dallas, former Los Angeles class fast attack submarine," Wahoo said. It took all of three seconds before Red bounded across the room and scooped Dallas up into a tight embrace.
"It is you," she said, "You are the one. You saved the captain."
"Can't breathe," Dallas wheezed. Wahoo stood up and tapped Red on the shoulder, causing her to drop Dallas, who immediately began to gasp for air.
"You are responsible for my success," Red continued, "I thank you."
"Ma'am," Dallas said once she had regained her breath, "Why am I here?"
"Why don't you explain yourself Red, and let Dallas here your story," Wahoo said.
Red looked down at the floor for a second before saying, "For Russian submarine, I did not spend much time in Russian navy. My captain's mission happened right after my launching, and I decided that I would continue his dream with my new life."
"Tell her the rest of it," Wahoo said.
"To come to America, I sneaked away from my navy," Red said, shuffling her feet, "It was not hard, my comrades are good at fighting, not security."
"And the Russians haven't asked for her return?" Dallas asked.
"Oh they have, the first two time she ran across the Atlantic," Wahoo replied, "They finally gave up and gave her to us to deal with."
"You sailed across the Atlantic twice?" Dallas asked, a note of approval in her voice.
"No, I sail across Atlantic first time," Red replied, "Second time I book Aeroflot flight out of Murmansk to Washington, and no one stopped me."
"I'm assuming I'm here for some reason?" Dallas asked.
"Seeing how Red October is now officially assigned to our outfit as a special observer, she needs a handler. Someone to watch her and keep her out of trouble, and seeing as you two have a history with each other, your name came up," Wahoo said, "She'll bunk with you, and it'll be up to you to familiarize her with our procedures." Dallas gave Wahoo a wide eyed look, and stood stiff in shock.
"It will be so nice to be with you again tovarisch, you will teach me about your country" Red said, moving to embrace Dallas again, but the smaller girl managed to slip out of her grasp.
"Ma'am, do I really have to do this?" Dallas asked.
"Yes, yes you do lieutenant," Wahoo replied, "Now get out of here, go show her around, and try not to let everyone on the base know that she is a Russian. I wouldn't want your fast attack sisters to get the wrong ideas."
"Aye, aye, ma'am," Dallas said, begrudgingly, "Come on, Red. Let's go get some food."
"Can we get hamburgers? I like hamburgers, they are such an American food," Red said, following behind Dallas as she left Wahoo's office.
Dallas, Red, and Pogy
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Dallas, Red, and Pogy:
Dallas practically dragged Red through the base. The Russian girl wanted to stop and look at everything. "First step," Dallas said, "Lose the coat."
"But my coat is warm, and it is cold here," Red protested.
"We'll get you a new one, but nothing says Russian like a big fur coat. You might as well be wearing a red star," Dallas explained.
Dallas rubbed her chin in thought for a second then said, "The Navy Exchange is on the other side of the base, and they also have a food court there. It might be better to head over there for food rather than the mess hall." Dallas put a finger up to Red's face, "Let me do the talking. There are a lot of ship girls on this base who do not remember the Russians in the best light, try not to provoke them."
"I will do this tovarisch Dallas," Red replied, "You have my word."
"Good," Dallas said, "Stay close to me." The headquarters of US Submarine Auxiliary Personnel was located on the campus of Naval Submarine Base New London, in Groton Connecticut. The base is also home to the Naval Submarine School, the place where all enlisted sailors in the submarine service come to learn their rates. It took Dallas about fifteen minutes to walk Red over to the Nex building, and another thirty for them to pick out a new set of clothes for Red.
Then they set off to get some food. There was a common myth running through civilian circles that nuclear powered ship girls eat uranium. This isn't' true, their rigging operates off of nuclear fuel, but the girls themselves do not eat it. They do, however, have very large appetites, especially the missile submarines. Dallas brought Red to the food court in the hopes that with the wide variety of food offered, they would find something to satisfy the Russian's appetite. She had to admit that she wasn't surprised in the slightest when Red made a beeline for the McDonalds. They found a table in the back of the restaurant and sat down.
Dallas was surprised a few minutes later when she heard someone say, "Hey, big D, why you still here? I thought you had that Special Forces thing with the North Dakota?"
She looked up to see who it was and said, "No, Pogy, that's next week. I had to run to the Nex, and thought I might as well eat here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Didn't like the slop the mess was serving today, so I decided to head over here." The girl, former submarine USS Pogy, pulled out a chair and sat down next to Dallas. "Who's tall dark and Russian sitting next to you?"
"That obvious is it?" Dallas asked.
"Just a tad," Pogy replied.
"USS Pogy, meet the Krasny Oktyabr, or as you probably remember her, Red October," Dallas said.
"It is nice to meet friend of Dallas'," Red said, offering the other submarine girl her hand, "Please, call me Red."
Pogy took the hand and shook it cordially, then asked, "Red October, Red October, where do I know that name from?"
"Remember that thing back in the 80's, around Christmas time? The whole Soviet Navy was chasing a sub across the Atlantic?" Dallas replied.
"Oh right, that thing with the rogue boomer with the secret squirrel quiet drive. The one who turned out to be defecting," Pogy replied, snapping her fingers, "Wait a minute that was you?"
"This is correct," Red replied, "My captain defected to your country and brought me here."
"I remember now, we hid you in that river than ran into that Alfa on the way to Norfolk," Pogy recalled, "Then you sunk the bastard by ramming him. You've got more guts than me kid. So what's she doing here?"
"Apparently the same thing she was doing back then, coming over to our side," Dallas remarked.
"And the Russians are going for this?"
"She came over to the US three times, and the Russians got sick of her running away, so they assigned her as a liaison," Dallas explained.
"I'm surprised they'd be willing to part with one of their boomers, especially one with a quiet drive like yours," Pogy commented.
"Ballistic Missile submarine girls are less, potent, than they used to be," Red explained, "We are not allowed to carry nuclear weapons due to arms treaties, so we carry cruise missiles."
"So, she going to be working with us now?" Pogy asked, "Enjoying the joys of endless patrols, and following behind the big Navy boomers?"
"I don't know, Pogy. All I know is that I'm now her handler, and she's my responsibility," Dallas replied, "And for goodness sake, don't go spreading around that she's here. You know what the hardliners in the barracks would do if they learned we had a Russian liaison on base. It would be like the old days with the Japanese all over again."
"We didn't have any problems relating with the Japanese if I remember right," Pogy pointed out."
"Still, there are some pretty crazy girls back in the barracks," Dallas commented.
"I will not cause problems," Red announced, "I want to be in America, I would not do anything to make them ship me back."
"I'm all for this," Pogy announced, "Anyone who could evade the entirety of their navy, then unflinchingly ram another submarine is alright in my book."
"Good, then you've just been appointed my assistant," Dallas replied.
"Now hold on a minute, I didn't volunteer for anything."
"You just did, now help me show Red around the base. Let's show off what we Americans are capable of," Dallas said. She pushed back from the table, and stood up. As they were walking out, Dallas said, "I think the submarine museum would be a good place to start."
Dallas practically dragged Red through the base. The Russian girl wanted to stop and look at everything. "First step," Dallas said, "Lose the coat."
"But my coat is warm, and it is cold here," Red protested.
"We'll get you a new one, but nothing says Russian like a big fur coat. You might as well be wearing a red star," Dallas explained.
Dallas rubbed her chin in thought for a second then said, "The Navy Exchange is on the other side of the base, and they also have a food court there. It might be better to head over there for food rather than the mess hall." Dallas put a finger up to Red's face, "Let me do the talking. There are a lot of ship girls on this base who do not remember the Russians in the best light, try not to provoke them."
"I will do this tovarisch Dallas," Red replied, "You have my word."
"Good," Dallas said, "Stay close to me." The headquarters of US Submarine Auxiliary Personnel was located on the campus of Naval Submarine Base New London, in Groton Connecticut. The base is also home to the Naval Submarine School, the place where all enlisted sailors in the submarine service come to learn their rates. It took Dallas about fifteen minutes to walk Red over to the Nex building, and another thirty for them to pick out a new set of clothes for Red.
Then they set off to get some food. There was a common myth running through civilian circles that nuclear powered ship girls eat uranium. This isn't' true, their rigging operates off of nuclear fuel, but the girls themselves do not eat it. They do, however, have very large appetites, especially the missile submarines. Dallas brought Red to the food court in the hopes that with the wide variety of food offered, they would find something to satisfy the Russian's appetite. She had to admit that she wasn't surprised in the slightest when Red made a beeline for the McDonalds. They found a table in the back of the restaurant and sat down.
Dallas was surprised a few minutes later when she heard someone say, "Hey, big D, why you still here? I thought you had that Special Forces thing with the North Dakota?"
She looked up to see who it was and said, "No, Pogy, that's next week. I had to run to the Nex, and thought I might as well eat here. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Didn't like the slop the mess was serving today, so I decided to head over here." The girl, former submarine USS Pogy, pulled out a chair and sat down next to Dallas. "Who's tall dark and Russian sitting next to you?"
"That obvious is it?" Dallas asked.
"Just a tad," Pogy replied.
"USS Pogy, meet the Krasny Oktyabr, or as you probably remember her, Red October," Dallas said.
"It is nice to meet friend of Dallas'," Red said, offering the other submarine girl her hand, "Please, call me Red."
Pogy took the hand and shook it cordially, then asked, "Red October, Red October, where do I know that name from?"
"Remember that thing back in the 80's, around Christmas time? The whole Soviet Navy was chasing a sub across the Atlantic?" Dallas replied.
"Oh right, that thing with the rogue boomer with the secret squirrel quiet drive. The one who turned out to be defecting," Pogy replied, snapping her fingers, "Wait a minute that was you?"
"This is correct," Red replied, "My captain defected to your country and brought me here."
"I remember now, we hid you in that river than ran into that Alfa on the way to Norfolk," Pogy recalled, "Then you sunk the bastard by ramming him. You've got more guts than me kid. So what's she doing here?"
"Apparently the same thing she was doing back then, coming over to our side," Dallas remarked.
"And the Russians are going for this?"
"She came over to the US three times, and the Russians got sick of her running away, so they assigned her as a liaison," Dallas explained.
"I'm surprised they'd be willing to part with one of their boomers, especially one with a quiet drive like yours," Pogy commented.
"Ballistic Missile submarine girls are less, potent, than they used to be," Red explained, "We are not allowed to carry nuclear weapons due to arms treaties, so we carry cruise missiles."
"So, she going to be working with us now?" Pogy asked, "Enjoying the joys of endless patrols, and following behind the big Navy boomers?"
"I don't know, Pogy. All I know is that I'm now her handler, and she's my responsibility," Dallas replied, "And for goodness sake, don't go spreading around that she's here. You know what the hardliners in the barracks would do if they learned we had a Russian liaison on base. It would be like the old days with the Japanese all over again."
"We didn't have any problems relating with the Japanese if I remember right," Pogy pointed out."
"Still, there are some pretty crazy girls back in the barracks," Dallas commented.
"I will not cause problems," Red announced, "I want to be in America, I would not do anything to make them ship me back."
"I'm all for this," Pogy announced, "Anyone who could evade the entirety of their navy, then unflinchingly ram another submarine is alright in my book."
"Good, then you've just been appointed my assistant," Dallas replied.
"Now hold on a minute, I didn't volunteer for anything."
"You just did, now help me show Red around the base. Let's show off what we Americans are capable of," Dallas said. She pushed back from the table, and stood up. As they were walking out, Dallas said, "I think the submarine museum would be a good place to start."
Dallas, Pogy, and Parche
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Dallas, Pogy, and Parche
"Well, she looks happy," Pogy muttered.
"Why wouldn't she be? It's a museum about submarines, American submarines at that. I know for a fact that you were just as excited as she was the first time you saw it," Dallas replied.
"Who put a fish up your screw? Why are you so surly today," Pogy quipped, "Is this about her?" Pogy pointed over to where Red was staring at a large cut away model of a Gato class submarine.
"No," Dallas replied, then hesitated, "Maybe, sort of."
"Maybe sort of?" Pogy questioned
"It's just that I had to get stuck with her on this week of all times," Dallas replied. Pogy looked at Dallas for several seconds before a flash of recognition crossed her face.
"Oh you mean how the former COMSUBFOR is coming for a visit?" she asked.
"You know what it's like to meet with your former CO," Dallas replied, "It's just that I have to babysit her while Admiral Mancuso will be here."
"Take her with you to meet him," Pogy suggested, "If the reports from that incident are accurate, then Bart Mancuso has just as much reason to meet her as you do."
"I guess," Dallas muttered.
"Who knows, maybe she can meet with her old skipper one of these days," Pogy shrugged, "I here he's still kicking around somewhere."
"Probably back in Russia," Dallas commented.
A new voice behind her announced, a bit too loudly, "Who said something about Russia?" Dallas nearly jumped out of her skin as she whipped around to face the new arrival.
"Parche, why do you always feel the need to sneak up on people?" Pogy asked, more used to her sister's antics than Dallas. "What are you even doing here? I thought you had that thing with the spooks?" Dallas watched as the Sturgeon class girl's eyes darted around the room, looking for something that obviously wasn't there.
She then leaned in close, so that only Dallas and Pogy could hear what she said next, "We got back early. Good acoustics where we were, got the intel quicker than expected."
"Should you even be telling us this?" Pogy asked, "That secret squirrel shit is way above my paygrade." Dallas simply stood silent, she had no idea what was going on, or who this new girl was. Apparently that thought was displayed on her face, because Pogy explained, "Parche here is our resident spook. Her experiences back during the cold war has led to her being picked up by ONI upon summoning."
"You work for ONI?" Dallas asked, startled, "I didn't think that ship girls were allowed to go into support jobs."
"When you spent as much time sneaking around as I have, it made the most sense. Besides, I don't work for ONI anymore, or rather, not directly."
She gave Pogy a knowing smile, to which the other girl replied, "You don't mean…"
"Yep, the company asked me to come work for them as a, 'consultant,'" Parche replied.
"Which company?" Dallas asked, confused.
Pogy gave Dallas an incredulous look, then said, "You did your share of intel work back during the cold war, you never heard of the company?" Dallas's blank look didn't change, and Pogy sighed, "You know, the CIA?"
"Oh, yeah," Dallas replied, realization dawning, "Never heard it called the company, though."
Pogy shook her head, then asked, "Parche, how the hell did you get involved with the CIA?"
"You know I could tell you that, but then I would have to kill you," she replied, with a wide grin.
Pogy groaned, "You do realize that that is the single most overused spy joke, ever? Right?" Parche just shrugged.
Dallas was opening her mouth to speak, when Red bounded over and said, "Who is this? Is this another friend of Dallas?" Parche jumped several feet into the air at the sudden appearance of the Russian girl.
She ducked behind Pogy, then asked with a wavering voice, "Where did she come from?"
"Oh, allow me to introduce myself, I am the Soviet…"
"Russian," Dallas interjected.
"Russian," Red corrected, "Ballistic missile submarine Red October, but you may call me, Red."
"Nice-nice to meet you," Parche stammered, still hiding behind Pogy. Pogy had had just about as much of this as she could take, and stepped to the side, leaving Parche with no cover.
"Red, this is submarine Parche," Pogy announced, "You'll have to forgive her though, she spent most of her time in the service spying on the Soviets. She's still a bit wary around Russians."
"So you spied on my countrymen," Red announced with indignation. Parch let out a squeak, then tried to hide behind Pogy again, but the other sub sidestepped once more. Red broke into a wide grin, then said, "Then you are a friend of mine. If you helped to bring down the Soviets, then you are definitely a friend of mine." Parche stood there, looking up at the big Russian girl, completely dumbstruck.
Dallas could help but needle the poor girl, "What, you're CIA, you don't remember that? Her captain defected, and brought her to the US. There was that whole mess with the Russians in the Atlantic." Parche continued to remain silent, eyes not leaving Red. "She's been trying to come over to our side of the Atlantic for months, and the Russians got tired of corralling her, so they assigned her to us as a liaison. What exactly she's liaising hasn't been explained to me yet."
"That-that's nice," Parched said, the stammer persisting. She looked around the room again, then said quickly, "It was nice seeing you Pogy, and you two, Red." She ran out of the room as fast as she could.
Red then summed up the three submarine girl's thoughts, "Interesting girl."
"Anyone who spent as long spying as she did is bound to turn out just a little strange," Pogy conceded.
Dallas did her best to shake off the last ten minutes, and said, "Come on Red, we need to get you set up at the BOQ."
"What is BOQ?" Red asked ash she followed Dallas out of the museum.
"A lovely place where you have a nice, soft rack, and everything is delivered to you on a silver platter," Pogy replied, lying through her teeth.
Dallas gave her a condescending look, then said, "Don't listen to her, it's just the officer's quarters."
"Oh, then I am in need of this BOQ," Red replied, "I have not slept since I arrived at your base."
"Then come on already," Dallas said, then practically dragged Red down the path.
"Well, she looks happy," Pogy muttered.
"Why wouldn't she be? It's a museum about submarines, American submarines at that. I know for a fact that you were just as excited as she was the first time you saw it," Dallas replied.
"Who put a fish up your screw? Why are you so surly today," Pogy quipped, "Is this about her?" Pogy pointed over to where Red was staring at a large cut away model of a Gato class submarine.
"No," Dallas replied, then hesitated, "Maybe, sort of."
"Maybe sort of?" Pogy questioned
"It's just that I had to get stuck with her on this week of all times," Dallas replied. Pogy looked at Dallas for several seconds before a flash of recognition crossed her face.
"Oh you mean how the former COMSUBFOR is coming for a visit?" she asked.
"You know what it's like to meet with your former CO," Dallas replied, "It's just that I have to babysit her while Admiral Mancuso will be here."
"Take her with you to meet him," Pogy suggested, "If the reports from that incident are accurate, then Bart Mancuso has just as much reason to meet her as you do."
"I guess," Dallas muttered.
"Who knows, maybe she can meet with her old skipper one of these days," Pogy shrugged, "I here he's still kicking around somewhere."
"Probably back in Russia," Dallas commented.
A new voice behind her announced, a bit too loudly, "Who said something about Russia?" Dallas nearly jumped out of her skin as she whipped around to face the new arrival.
"Parche, why do you always feel the need to sneak up on people?" Pogy asked, more used to her sister's antics than Dallas. "What are you even doing here? I thought you had that thing with the spooks?" Dallas watched as the Sturgeon class girl's eyes darted around the room, looking for something that obviously wasn't there.
She then leaned in close, so that only Dallas and Pogy could hear what she said next, "We got back early. Good acoustics where we were, got the intel quicker than expected."
"Should you even be telling us this?" Pogy asked, "That secret squirrel shit is way above my paygrade." Dallas simply stood silent, she had no idea what was going on, or who this new girl was. Apparently that thought was displayed on her face, because Pogy explained, "Parche here is our resident spook. Her experiences back during the cold war has led to her being picked up by ONI upon summoning."
"You work for ONI?" Dallas asked, startled, "I didn't think that ship girls were allowed to go into support jobs."
"When you spent as much time sneaking around as I have, it made the most sense. Besides, I don't work for ONI anymore, or rather, not directly."
She gave Pogy a knowing smile, to which the other girl replied, "You don't mean…"
"Yep, the company asked me to come work for them as a, 'consultant,'" Parche replied.
"Which company?" Dallas asked, confused.
Pogy gave Dallas an incredulous look, then said, "You did your share of intel work back during the cold war, you never heard of the company?" Dallas's blank look didn't change, and Pogy sighed, "You know, the CIA?"
"Oh, yeah," Dallas replied, realization dawning, "Never heard it called the company, though."
Pogy shook her head, then asked, "Parche, how the hell did you get involved with the CIA?"
"You know I could tell you that, but then I would have to kill you," she replied, with a wide grin.
Pogy groaned, "You do realize that that is the single most overused spy joke, ever? Right?" Parche just shrugged.
Dallas was opening her mouth to speak, when Red bounded over and said, "Who is this? Is this another friend of Dallas?" Parche jumped several feet into the air at the sudden appearance of the Russian girl.
She ducked behind Pogy, then asked with a wavering voice, "Where did she come from?"
"Oh, allow me to introduce myself, I am the Soviet…"
"Russian," Dallas interjected.
"Russian," Red corrected, "Ballistic missile submarine Red October, but you may call me, Red."
"Nice-nice to meet you," Parche stammered, still hiding behind Pogy. Pogy had had just about as much of this as she could take, and stepped to the side, leaving Parche with no cover.
"Red, this is submarine Parche," Pogy announced, "You'll have to forgive her though, she spent most of her time in the service spying on the Soviets. She's still a bit wary around Russians."
"So you spied on my countrymen," Red announced with indignation. Parch let out a squeak, then tried to hide behind Pogy again, but the other sub sidestepped once more. Red broke into a wide grin, then said, "Then you are a friend of mine. If you helped to bring down the Soviets, then you are definitely a friend of mine." Parche stood there, looking up at the big Russian girl, completely dumbstruck.
Dallas could help but needle the poor girl, "What, you're CIA, you don't remember that? Her captain defected, and brought her to the US. There was that whole mess with the Russians in the Atlantic." Parche continued to remain silent, eyes not leaving Red. "She's been trying to come over to our side of the Atlantic for months, and the Russians got tired of corralling her, so they assigned her to us as a liaison. What exactly she's liaising hasn't been explained to me yet."
"That-that's nice," Parched said, the stammer persisting. She looked around the room again, then said quickly, "It was nice seeing you Pogy, and you two, Red." She ran out of the room as fast as she could.
Red then summed up the three submarine girl's thoughts, "Interesting girl."
"Anyone who spent as long spying as she did is bound to turn out just a little strange," Pogy conceded.
Dallas did her best to shake off the last ten minutes, and said, "Come on Red, we need to get you set up at the BOQ."
"What is BOQ?" Red asked ash she followed Dallas out of the museum.
"A lovely place where you have a nice, soft rack, and everything is delivered to you on a silver platter," Pogy replied, lying through her teeth.
Dallas gave her a condescending look, then said, "Don't listen to her, it's just the officer's quarters."
"Oh, then I am in need of this BOQ," Red replied, "I have not slept since I arrived at your base."
"Then come on already," Dallas said, then practically dragged Red down the path.
A Christmas Reunion
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Today was Christmas, and Dallas really didn't know how the holiday had creeped up on her unnoticed. She had just been so wrapped up with Red that the day had simply slipped her mind. This presented a bit of a problem, what was she going to do for Red? She had said on several occasions that she was excited to experience an, "American Christmas," whatever that meant. Unfortunately, she hadn't said anything about it for a week, or Dallas would have actually remembered to do something for the girl. Now she was facing the fact that the only thing she had to give Red, was a US Navy t-shirt from the Nex. Not the best present in the world really. She was a bit lucky that Red wasn't here right now. Pogy had taken her out on a harbor patrol to help get her used to American procedures. They would be gone for at least another hour or so. Dallas was using her time alone to frantically search the internet for suggestions. A knock at her door broke her concentration momentarily, and the call of, "Hey Dallas, you in?" made her jump. She would recognize Wahoo's voice anywhere.
"Just a second," Dallas quickly switched off the computer, and then ran to the door. "What can I do for you, captain?" Wahoo was standing out in the corridor, wearing what looked like a knit Christmas sweater.
"Oh knock off that captain stuff, at least for today. It's Christmas," Wahoo announced, causing Dallas to grimace. "What's wrong?" Wahoo asked, seeing Dallas' face fall, "You look like someone just stole your torpedoes."
"I forgot that today was Christmas," Dallas explained, letting the end of the though hang in the air.
"And you forgot to get something for Red?" Wahoo replied, finishing the thought. "Well, I don't know what I can do about that, but I did do something for you," Wahoo announced, surprising Dallas.
"Something for me? But I don't deserve anything special."
"It's more of a case of someone came to visit that I think you would like to meet," Wahoo explained. Dallas had an idea of who that could be, but just couldn't accept that possibility. "Plus, I like to take care of my girls, and who am I to get between a boat and her skipper?" Before Dallas could say anything, Wahoo leaned out of sight, and said, "Admiral, you said you wanted to see Dallas?" A second later Admiral (ret.) Bart Mancuso walked into the room. Dallas found that she couldn't say anything as Mancuso looked her over.
Finally he broke the ice, "So you're Dallas? Somehow you look exactly as I'd imagined you too."
"How is that, sir?" she finally managed to ask.
"Young and pretty," he replied with a smile.
"T-thank you, sir," she replied, surprised at the compliment.
"If you don't mind, admiral, I think I'll leave you two to catch up," Wahoo said, giving Dallas a knowing smile, then left.
"So, how have you been?" Mancuso asked, "I meant to come up a few weeks ago, but I got called in to do some consulting."
"I've been alright, sir. These last few months have been an experience."
"What, coming back? I've heard that is quite the shock. I should have been here to help you through it but with my schedule it was just impossible," Mancuso said, then added, "And knock off the sir, would ya? You're practically family, you don't have to call me sir. Plus, I haven't worn the uniform in years."
"No, sir, it's fine," Dallas protested, "I haven't had any trouble with that, in fact, it's sort of fun when you get down to it."
"Then what's the problem?" Mancuso asked, a confused look on his face. Dallas thought about what to tell her former captain, when the question was answered for her. The door to her room was thrown open and Red stomped into the room in all her glory.
The Russian girl didn't even look to see who was in the room before claiming, "That girl, Pogy, she cheats. She did not even let me use my skills during our last exercise. I was nothing more than a target for her team." Red finally noticed Mancuso, and stopped in her tracks. "I know you from before, I am sure of this," she announced, looking at Mancuso's face for several minutes.
He looked at her, confused, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Something clicked on Red's face, "You are American captain, the one that saved me after my crew left."
Mancuso spent several seconds processing Red's statement before replying, "What, does that mean you are…"
Dallas stepped in, "Admiral Mancuso, meet the Russian ballistic missile submarine, Krasny Oktyabr."
"It is pleasure to meet you, admiral," Red said, stressing Mancuso's rank.
"Red could you excuse us for a second, please?" Dallas asked, then turned to Mancuso, "Could I talk to you for a second, outside?"
"Sure thing," he replied, then said to Red, "It was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Oktyabr." Red gave him a respectful nod, then walked over to her bunk. Dallas pushed Mancuso out the door before he could say anything more.
"Now you know what I've been doing for the past two weeks," Dallas explained once they were in the hall, "I've been looking after her for that entire time."
"I didn't know she was in America, or that she had come back, for that matter. Is she a problem for you? I can make some calls…"
"No," Dallas cut him off forcibly, "Red is, well Red is trying to forget her past. She wants to forget the fact that she used to be Soviet, an idea given to her by her last captain probably. That means she is tries extra hard to be an American. She even wanted to celebrate today in the American custom."
"Now there has to be a story here," Mancuso said.
"I," Dallas started, "Well, I kind of blew it for her. I was so busy making sure she didn't run into problems that I forgot all about Christmas and you can probably guess."
"You haven't found her a gift?" Mancuso guessed.
"Yes, that's about it, and I don't want to disappoint her by getting something that screams, 'last minute.'" Dallas suddenly had a thought, "Could you help me?"
Mancuso rubbed his chin in thought, "There might be something I can do, something that she would like if she regards her captain as highly as you said she does. It all depends on if he's in the area though, so there are no promises. Give me ten minutes to go make a phone call, and I'll tell you if I was successful."
"Thank you so much, that's all I can ask." Dallas grabbed her former captain in a tight embrace, then let him go to plan a surprise for her friend.
[][][][][][][][][][]][][][][][
Mark Ramsey was in a nostalgic mood. He always got that way around this time of year. It was about this time of year, thirty years ago, that he had ceased to be Captain 1st Rank Marko Ramius. It had taken him a long time to transition into his new life, but he never regretted any of his decisions. He still got letters from his former officers on occasion, just to check up on how he was doing, and tell him what was happening with their lives. Those stories made all of it worthwhile, hearing that his men had found new lives, settled down, and, in a few cases, had started families. He knew with sadness that he could never find another woman, not after he had lost his love over thirty years ago in a Soviet hospital.
He tried not to drag those memories up that often, they were just too painful. He simply sat in his hotel room, trying to drown them out with liquor and books. He had come up to Groton to discuss his old career with some engineers over at Electric Boat. He found it rather funny that he would have a part in designing the next generation of American submarines. He was pondering that thought when his cell phone went off. The damn thing was a pain sometimes, but the convenience of it was something he would have dearly wanted in the old days. "Ramsey," he replied out of habit.
"Marko? Is that you, you old bear?" this was a voice Ramius hadn't heard in a long time.
"Bartholomew, what can I do for you, old friend?"
"Well, it depends on where you are right now," Mancuso asked, confusing Ramius somewhat.
"I am currently at Electric Boat, or rather, at a hotel near Electric Boat," he replied.
"Perfect," Mancuso replied, "I need to ask a favor of you Marko." He spent the next few minutes explaining the situation. The phone fell out of Ramius' hand before he had finished.
[][][][][][][]
"So? Did you do it?" Dallas asked.
"Wait and see," Mancuso replied. There was a twinkle in his eyes that answered Dallas' question immediately. Then another man entered the corridor, and walked over to Mancuso.
"Bart, it is good to see you my friend. It has been too long, too long," he said, taking Mancuso's hand. Dallas had never seen him before in person, but Red had certainly given her a good enough description in her stories. This had to be Marko Ramius, the man who had pulled off the craziest stunt in submarine history. He looked down at where she was standing, and asked, "And who would this be?"
Mancuso wrapped an arm around her shoulders and explained, "This is Dallas, Marko. She's my boat, and she takes after the family if I do say."
Ramius held out his hand, "We have met once before, but you were quite a bit different then."
"It is nice to meet you, Red has told me a lot about you," Dallas replied.
At the mention of the Russian submarine, Ramius asked, "Where is she, may I ask? I would like to meet her."
"In here," Dallas replied, throwing the door to their room open. Red was sitting at her desk, looking at something on her computer.
The sound of the opening door caused her to look up, "What is it, Dallas?"
"There's someone out here who'd like to meet you." She stood up from the desk and walked to the door, sticking her head out. It took her only a moment to spot Ramius, then her eyes went wide.
"Captain Ramius," she shouted, then ran out to grab the man in a bear hug. What followed was a string of rapid fire Russian that Dallas had no hope of keeping up with.
Mancuso leaned down to say, "You really are something, D. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too," she said, a huge grin on her face.
Red stopped her conversation just long enough to tell Dallas, "Thank you Dallas, this is the best Christmas present I could have received." Dallas' only reply was a nod, she was too choked up to speak.
"Come on," Mancuso said," my family doesn't' live that far from here, and we always have way too much food. Why don't you come over for dinner?" he raised his voice to be heard over Red, "What do you say, Marko? That offer goes for you too."
"I think I would like that," Ramius replied, "I haven't had a Christmas dinner in a long time."
"Then what are we waiting for? I'm sure it's already getting cold." Mancuso walked out, leading the rest of them out into cold, Connecticut air.
[][][][][]
A/N: I just couldn't resist writing something for Christmas.
Merry Christmas Ya'l
"Just a second," Dallas quickly switched off the computer, and then ran to the door. "What can I do for you, captain?" Wahoo was standing out in the corridor, wearing what looked like a knit Christmas sweater.
"Oh knock off that captain stuff, at least for today. It's Christmas," Wahoo announced, causing Dallas to grimace. "What's wrong?" Wahoo asked, seeing Dallas' face fall, "You look like someone just stole your torpedoes."
"I forgot that today was Christmas," Dallas explained, letting the end of the though hang in the air.
"And you forgot to get something for Red?" Wahoo replied, finishing the thought. "Well, I don't know what I can do about that, but I did do something for you," Wahoo announced, surprising Dallas.
"Something for me? But I don't deserve anything special."
"It's more of a case of someone came to visit that I think you would like to meet," Wahoo explained. Dallas had an idea of who that could be, but just couldn't accept that possibility. "Plus, I like to take care of my girls, and who am I to get between a boat and her skipper?" Before Dallas could say anything, Wahoo leaned out of sight, and said, "Admiral, you said you wanted to see Dallas?" A second later Admiral (ret.) Bart Mancuso walked into the room. Dallas found that she couldn't say anything as Mancuso looked her over.
Finally he broke the ice, "So you're Dallas? Somehow you look exactly as I'd imagined you too."
"How is that, sir?" she finally managed to ask.
"Young and pretty," he replied with a smile.
"T-thank you, sir," she replied, surprised at the compliment.
"If you don't mind, admiral, I think I'll leave you two to catch up," Wahoo said, giving Dallas a knowing smile, then left.
"So, how have you been?" Mancuso asked, "I meant to come up a few weeks ago, but I got called in to do some consulting."
"I've been alright, sir. These last few months have been an experience."
"What, coming back? I've heard that is quite the shock. I should have been here to help you through it but with my schedule it was just impossible," Mancuso said, then added, "And knock off the sir, would ya? You're practically family, you don't have to call me sir. Plus, I haven't worn the uniform in years."
"No, sir, it's fine," Dallas protested, "I haven't had any trouble with that, in fact, it's sort of fun when you get down to it."
"Then what's the problem?" Mancuso asked, a confused look on his face. Dallas thought about what to tell her former captain, when the question was answered for her. The door to her room was thrown open and Red stomped into the room in all her glory.
The Russian girl didn't even look to see who was in the room before claiming, "That girl, Pogy, she cheats. She did not even let me use my skills during our last exercise. I was nothing more than a target for her team." Red finally noticed Mancuso, and stopped in her tracks. "I know you from before, I am sure of this," she announced, looking at Mancuso's face for several minutes.
He looked at her, confused, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Something clicked on Red's face, "You are American captain, the one that saved me after my crew left."
Mancuso spent several seconds processing Red's statement before replying, "What, does that mean you are…"
Dallas stepped in, "Admiral Mancuso, meet the Russian ballistic missile submarine, Krasny Oktyabr."
"It is pleasure to meet you, admiral," Red said, stressing Mancuso's rank.
"Red could you excuse us for a second, please?" Dallas asked, then turned to Mancuso, "Could I talk to you for a second, outside?"
"Sure thing," he replied, then said to Red, "It was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Oktyabr." Red gave him a respectful nod, then walked over to her bunk. Dallas pushed Mancuso out the door before he could say anything more.
"Now you know what I've been doing for the past two weeks," Dallas explained once they were in the hall, "I've been looking after her for that entire time."
"I didn't know she was in America, or that she had come back, for that matter. Is she a problem for you? I can make some calls…"
"No," Dallas cut him off forcibly, "Red is, well Red is trying to forget her past. She wants to forget the fact that she used to be Soviet, an idea given to her by her last captain probably. That means she is tries extra hard to be an American. She even wanted to celebrate today in the American custom."
"Now there has to be a story here," Mancuso said.
"I," Dallas started, "Well, I kind of blew it for her. I was so busy making sure she didn't run into problems that I forgot all about Christmas and you can probably guess."
"You haven't found her a gift?" Mancuso guessed.
"Yes, that's about it, and I don't want to disappoint her by getting something that screams, 'last minute.'" Dallas suddenly had a thought, "Could you help me?"
Mancuso rubbed his chin in thought, "There might be something I can do, something that she would like if she regards her captain as highly as you said she does. It all depends on if he's in the area though, so there are no promises. Give me ten minutes to go make a phone call, and I'll tell you if I was successful."
"Thank you so much, that's all I can ask." Dallas grabbed her former captain in a tight embrace, then let him go to plan a surprise for her friend.
[][][][][][][][][][]][][][][][
Mark Ramsey was in a nostalgic mood. He always got that way around this time of year. It was about this time of year, thirty years ago, that he had ceased to be Captain 1st Rank Marko Ramius. It had taken him a long time to transition into his new life, but he never regretted any of his decisions. He still got letters from his former officers on occasion, just to check up on how he was doing, and tell him what was happening with their lives. Those stories made all of it worthwhile, hearing that his men had found new lives, settled down, and, in a few cases, had started families. He knew with sadness that he could never find another woman, not after he had lost his love over thirty years ago in a Soviet hospital.
He tried not to drag those memories up that often, they were just too painful. He simply sat in his hotel room, trying to drown them out with liquor and books. He had come up to Groton to discuss his old career with some engineers over at Electric Boat. He found it rather funny that he would have a part in designing the next generation of American submarines. He was pondering that thought when his cell phone went off. The damn thing was a pain sometimes, but the convenience of it was something he would have dearly wanted in the old days. "Ramsey," he replied out of habit.
"Marko? Is that you, you old bear?" this was a voice Ramius hadn't heard in a long time.
"Bartholomew, what can I do for you, old friend?"
"Well, it depends on where you are right now," Mancuso asked, confusing Ramius somewhat.
"I am currently at Electric Boat, or rather, at a hotel near Electric Boat," he replied.
"Perfect," Mancuso replied, "I need to ask a favor of you Marko." He spent the next few minutes explaining the situation. The phone fell out of Ramius' hand before he had finished.
[][][][][][][]
"So? Did you do it?" Dallas asked.
"Wait and see," Mancuso replied. There was a twinkle in his eyes that answered Dallas' question immediately. Then another man entered the corridor, and walked over to Mancuso.
"Bart, it is good to see you my friend. It has been too long, too long," he said, taking Mancuso's hand. Dallas had never seen him before in person, but Red had certainly given her a good enough description in her stories. This had to be Marko Ramius, the man who had pulled off the craziest stunt in submarine history. He looked down at where she was standing, and asked, "And who would this be?"
Mancuso wrapped an arm around her shoulders and explained, "This is Dallas, Marko. She's my boat, and she takes after the family if I do say."
Ramius held out his hand, "We have met once before, but you were quite a bit different then."
"It is nice to meet you, Red has told me a lot about you," Dallas replied.
At the mention of the Russian submarine, Ramius asked, "Where is she, may I ask? I would like to meet her."
"In here," Dallas replied, throwing the door to their room open. Red was sitting at her desk, looking at something on her computer.
The sound of the opening door caused her to look up, "What is it, Dallas?"
"There's someone out here who'd like to meet you." She stood up from the desk and walked to the door, sticking her head out. It took her only a moment to spot Ramius, then her eyes went wide.
"Captain Ramius," she shouted, then ran out to grab the man in a bear hug. What followed was a string of rapid fire Russian that Dallas had no hope of keeping up with.
Mancuso leaned down to say, "You really are something, D. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you too," she said, a huge grin on her face.
Red stopped her conversation just long enough to tell Dallas, "Thank you Dallas, this is the best Christmas present I could have received." Dallas' only reply was a nod, she was too choked up to speak.
"Come on," Mancuso said," my family doesn't' live that far from here, and we always have way too much food. Why don't you come over for dinner?" he raised his voice to be heard over Red, "What do you say, Marko? That offer goes for you too."
"I think I would like that," Ramius replied, "I haven't had a Christmas dinner in a long time."
"Then what are we waiting for? I'm sure it's already getting cold." Mancuso walked out, leading the rest of them out into cold, Connecticut air.
[][][][][]
A/N: I just couldn't resist writing something for Christmas.
Merry Christmas Ya'l
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Haven't done one of these in awhile, but here's the continuing adventures of USS Dallas and the Krasny Oktyabr
Inspiration for this snip:
Dallas was wasting time. She hated to admit it, but that's what she was doing. Video games were just one of the few things she had been introduced to since coming back, and she tended to get sucked in completely. While she was playing a rather infuriating series of matches on World of Warships, Red sat at the other end of the room, nose buried in a book. "Oh, come on," Dallas shouted, for perhaps the fifth time that morning, "How could you fall for that? You don't charge destroyers, why don't people remember this?" She had a pair of headphones on, so she didn't hear Pogy walking into the room.
"Sup, bitches," the older submarine called.
Red looked up from her book, and replied, "Good morning Ms. Pogy. I'm afraid that I do not know what's up."
"It's just a figure of," Pogy tried to explain, 'Never mind, what's big D up too?"
Dallas provided the answer herself, "You shit for brains, DON'T CHARGE THE DAMN CHANNEL."
"Ah, the bloody boat game as the Brits described it," Pogy observed, "How long has she been at this?"
"Three chapters," Red replied.
Pogy finally noticed Red's book, "What'cha reading there?" Red answered by passing the book over, making sure to mark her place. "Third World War: the Untold Story? What is this?"
"A convincing scenario for a conflict between your country, and my homeland," Red replied, taking the book back.
"How's it end?" Pogy asked, intrigued.
"I have not yet reached that point, but a temporary cease fire has been established following a limited nuclear exchange."
Pogy shuddered, "Stuff of nightmares right there. Anywho, I came in here to do something, what was it?"
"You scrub, TURN YOUR RUDDER NEXT TIME," Dallas shouted, still completely unaware that Pogy was in the room.
"Oh that's right," Pogy said, snapping her fingers. She walked over to Dallas, and knocked the headset off her head.
"Hey, what was that for?" Dallas asked, rubbing the back of her head.
"This is your warning, just got word that Wahoo wants all of us in the right now," Pogy explained.
"Wait, why didn't you lead with that one?" Dallas asked, leaning down to flip off the computer, "And meeting about what?"
Pogy shrugged, "I dunno, probably the surface boys are mad about the last thrashing we gave them."
"Surprise exercise?"
"You didn't hear that from me," Pogy said with a wink, "Anyway, better get going, Wahoo's seemed rather insistent about this one." She gave a little wave, then started to walk out.
"Ms. Pogy," Red intercepted her, "Am I to be included in this exercise?"
"Pogy shrugged again, "Skipper said everyone, and you're part of everyone. Don't be late Big D. Don't want the captain on your ass, again."
Dallas made a dismissive gesture, "fine, fine, I'll be there." Pogy nodded, then backed out of the room, leaving Dallas and Red alone.
"What are these exercises?" Red asked after a second.
"War games we run with the surface pukes," Dallas explained, "We have an objective, and the surface guys try to stop us. We usually win, and the surface guys get mad and demand rematches."
"So it is a test of strength, da?" Red asked.
"And cunning, and strategy, and luck," Dallas replied. She stood up and stretched, then reached down to shut off her computer. "Come on, let's go. I don't want Wahoo to jump me for being late, again," Dallas said with a groan. She walked out as quickly as she could, and tried to slip into the mess as quietly as possible.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough, Wahoo fixed her with a "look" and said, "Nice of you to join us ensign." Dallas slid into her seat without another word. Red silently sat down next to her. Wahoo looked at her for another moment, then said, "Got a call from my counterpart down in Norfolk. She has a group of fresh destroyer girls who need some ASW practice, so we got the rotation."
"Who gets the duty?" someone in the back shouted.
Wahoo shuffled her papers around for a second, then replied, "Anyone who wasn't in the last one, and who's on cooldown. So, Rickover 709 Dallas 700, Annapolis 760, Narwhal 671, Pogy 647and Ohio 726 is the vip." There were several ships in the fleet these days with duplicate names. When meeting unprofessionally, nicknames were used to prevent confusion, but when talking professionally, a ship's hull number would be said after her name. Every ship knew their hull number just as well as their name. "Any more questions?"
"Yeah, what do you have riding on this?" someone shouted, Dallas guessed that it was Annapolis, that girl always knew the worst time to make jokes.
Wahoo looked out at the assembled girls for a second, before replying, tone deadly serious, "Several cases of beer and the right to pick the next exercise location and type." A low whistle permeated the crowd. That was an important decision, whoever picked the terrain, could give their side a decided advantage. "If that's all?" Wahoo asked, then waited a beat before continuing, "Alright, those going on the mission report to the armory for gear issue." The assembled girls stood up and walked out. Red started to stand up, but Dallas put a hand on her thigh and shook her head. A minute later, the only ones still in the mess were Wahoo, Dallas, and Red.
Wahoo spent a minute looking at Dallas, before saying, "I think I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is yes. I do want Red October on the exercise."
"May I ask why?" Dallas replied.
"Because both you and Pogy are going to be away, and I don't want to leave her alone. Plus, Halsey won the last two exercises, and maybe Red's sneaky trick can help you wipe that smug look of her face. On that note, expect P-8s. Would not put it past Halsey to rope in a PATRON to help her win."
"Is that all, Captain Wahoo?" Red asked, and stood up, "I am eager to begin the mission."
"Good," Wahoo replied, then she looked at Dallas, "Try to keep her out of trouble, D."
"Sure thing skipper," Dallas replied, "Come on, Red, let's go get your gear." Dallas walked out of the mess, with Red close on her heels.
[][][][][][][][][][]
"Damn it's cold," Dallas said, shivering. If there was one thing she hated in this new life, it was having to dive into the freezing waters of New London, during the winter. She was almost glad for the heat provided by her wetsuit, even if it did restrict her movement, but there were always a few seconds while the suit filled when she had to endure the full chill of the water.
"In Polyarny, it is routinely this cold, or colder," Red stated, "There were times when we needed to climb over ice floes to exit the bay."
Pogy gave the Russian a questioning look, "You mean they didn't clear a channel?"
Red shrugged, stating, "The only units that use that base these days are ship girls. Why waste money using an icebreaker when we can climb or avoid the ice?"
"So what's the big deal with her?" asked Annapolis. The redhead, was rubbing her arms, trying to get some feeling back into them, "Why do we have a Russian sub tagging along with us?"
"I am ballistic missile submarine Red October," Red added, helpfully.
"Oh, she's a boomer, even better. You have anything to add to this discussion, Narwhal?" Annapolis turned to look at the other SSN in their group.
The blonde shook her head, saying, "No." Narwhal was a quiet girl, preferring to speak as little as possible.
"How about the big girl?" Annapolis turned to Ohio, "Your fellow boomer, what're your thoughts."
"There's a reason, stop asking questions," the tall brunette replied in her characteristic calm tone. It took a lot to get Ohio to lose her stoic demeanor, in fact, it was something of a game with the new girls to try to get a rise out of the boomer.
"Just me then? Okay, well I still want answers," Annapolis said with a huff.
Dallas let out a sigh, then explained, "Back when we were all boats, Red's captain defected to the US. He brought her with him. So for whatever reason, when she came back, she tried the same stunt."
"And the let us keep her?" asked Rickover, speaking up for the first time.
"No, not at first. First time they ask for me back, and then again second time. It was on third try, that they give up and let me stay," Red explained.
Annapolis let out a low whistle, "Damn girl, you are one stubborn sumbitch."
"Concur," Narwhal said.
"If I may? Why is she with us?" Rickover asked, "If I remember correctly, Soviet submarines were not the quietest boats in the water. In fact, they were quite noisy."
"You wanna tell her, Red?" Pogy asked the Russian.
"I was fitted with a prototype propulsion device," Red explained, "A tunnel impellor system. The use of this masks my noise signal."
"But we already have a super sneaky," Annapolis said, pointing a thumb at Ohio, "Why do we need another?" She was right about that, the Ohio class of missile boats were the quietest submarines ever put to sea. The surface Navy had learned to track them by not listening for where their noise was, but for where the sea noise wasn't. Even then, this method only sort of worked. They couldn't really track the boomers. No Ohio class had ever been successfully tracked.
"The idea," Dallas explained, in no uncertain terms, "Is to use her as our ace in the hole. None of the surface girls know about her, or her sound profile. So we can surprise them with her. So if we're done chitchatting, let's get below the water and get on the war. Those tin cans aren't going to wait forever." A round of nods and affirmative replies later, and all the submarine girls slipped beneath the water.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][]
The girl lowered her binoculars. She could see nothing on the water's surface, even though spotting a submarine visually was next to impossible. She could use her phased array radar to try to get a paint off a possible antenna, but she was still a bit apprehensive about using that. Evans replaced the binos around her neck, and muttered, "I see nothing."
"What makes you think you can spot them with that?" asked Nicholas, FFG-47. The former Perry class frigate was something of a master when it came to ASW. She was always working as hard as she could to make a name for herself out of the shadow of her big sister.
"Hey, Evans, your helo pick anything up yet?" asked Ticonderoga, the commander of this little task group. Evans shifted her focus to the little SH-60 flying out ahead of the ship girls, and listened as it flew low to drop its dipping sonar into the water.
"Nothing yet," she said, "I'm going to put a sonobuoy net 5 miles outside the target. We'll catch them as they come in." Evans unconsciously looked over her shoulder at the target of the exercise, a medium size container ship that the Navy had borrowed for the day.
"Good," replied Tico, "Nick, keep your heli in reserve. We have a P-8 about to make a MAD sweep, so that ought to narrow our search grid." Not two minutes later, the big, gray jet swooped overhead. It waggled it's wings slightly as it passed over, then flew off to the north.
"This is where it gets interesting. Or rather boring," Nick said, "We wait for them to come to us."
"Great," muttered Tico, then watched as the Poseidon began it's back and forth "Mow the lawn" search pattern.
"New contacts," Evans called, then tapped the locations onto her map unit. All of the girls had one of the tablet computers. They displayed a chart of the current location, and allowed them to share position data. Nick pressed a hand to the headset she was wearing, and listened to the take from the sonobuoy net.
"Sounds like a group of 688 boats, maybe a 673 with them," she stated, "There's our targets."
"Isn't there supposed to be a boomer with them?" Evans asked, trying to remember the exercise parameters.
"Yeah, but she can't attack. If we sink her, we instantly win," Tico explained, "Same thing with our freighter." Evans nodded her acceptance of this.
"Tell your chopper to get it's fish ready," Nick said, "Drop when I tell you too." Evans nodded, then
[][][][][][][][][]
Dallas was a bit worried. She knew they were in range of the tin cans, but she hadn't caught a whiff of them yet. They had heard the Poseidon roar overhead fifteen minutes ago, so it was a logical assumption that they had been spotted. Unfortunately, they had no way to confirm that. Well, no way until the shots started flying. All she could do was sail slowly forward, letting her tail of powerful hydrophones listen to everything around. The sound of a helicopter flying low over the water caused the hairs on her neck to stand up. Had they been spotted? Dallas looked back at the rest of the girls, and said, "Helo up on deck, watch out."
The girls had a few different options to communicate underwater these days. The first, the one that they had kept from their steel hull days, was the underwater telephone or Gertrude, but using this gave away their position to everyone within 50 miles. The next was the hand signals perfected during the Abyssal war, but those were reserved for emergencies due to the last method. A battery powered laser comms system meant that they girls could talk to each other with no chance of eavesdropping.
"Anything else?" asked Pogy.
"Not yet," Dallas replied, "But expect there to be sonobuoys up above the layer." The subs were currently cruising under the thermocline. The boundary between the warm surface water and the cold bottom created a barrier that reflected sound like a concrete wall. Dallas was periodically rising above it just long enough to get a better read of the area. The sound of something slamming into the water over her head caused her to freeze. "TORP IN THE WATER," she screamed. Noise be damned at this point, they had to act now. The ethereal wailing of a Mk-54 MAKO torp reverberated through the water. The fish's high frequency search sonar was piercing the water, searching for its prey.
The submarine girls shifted into high gear, instantly. They made a mad rush deeper, hoping to confuse the fish with the thermocline. A few sonar decoys were ejected into the water. The bubble makers would give the torp a false sonar return to home in on. "It's going to acquisition," Pogy shouted as the frequency of the sonar pings shifted. This meant that the torp had found a target, and was now homing.
"Scatter," was the only thing Dallas could say. There was no way to tell which of the girls the torp had latched onto, so the only course of action they could take, was to assume that they were all being targeted. Dallas increased speed, then made a rapid course change. Creating a knuckle in the water, an area of roiled water that would confuse a torp on her tail. She kept up the rapid course and speed changes for the next five minutes, until a loud flat tone echoed through the water. This was the signal that the exercise torp had detonated, silently saying, "If this had been real, you would be dead right now." It was up to the girls to call themselves out if they had been painted by the exercise shot.
Annapolis said with the sound phone a second later, "Okay, you got me. I'm coming up." This was also procedure, it let the other subs know who had been hit, and the destroyers chasing them as well.
"Damn," Dallas swore, "They know where we are. I can bet this whole area is blanketed with buoys now."
"What do we do, D?" Pogy asked.
"Normally, I'd say lie low and let their focus shift, but the time limit will run out before then," Dallas replied.
"Play the trump," Narwhal said, crossing her arms.
"Okay," Dallas looked over at Red, "Make a run for that freighter on caterpillar, we'll run south to distract them."
"I can do this," Red replied, "I will not let you down, Ms. Dallas."
Dallas nodded, "Right, the rest of us, we're heading south, and make some noise."
[][][][][][][]
"Yes," Evans cheered, pumping her fist, "Got one."
"Stay frosty," Tico chastised, "There are still more out there. You got anything, Nick."
Nick's eyes were half closed as she listened to the sonar take, "Contacts are moving south on high speed. I think they're running."
"Why would they be running?" Evans asked, "They can't get out of range, and back into it before the time runs out. Can they?"
"No, I don't think so," Nick replied.
"Nick, send up your helo, it's your turn to fish," Tico ordered.
"Hey wait, I got something," Nick said, holding up her hand, "Doesn't sound like a sub though, sounds like…. Like, magma displacement or something."
"Magma displacement?" Tico deadpanned.
"Hey, that's what the computer came up with."
Tico sighed, "Ignore it, probably just some plates shifting off the shelf. Keep an eye on those subs."
"Aye, ma'am," Nick replied.
About fifteen minutes later, the unhappy voice of the freighter captain came over the radio, "I hate to say this, miss, but we've been sunk."
"WHAT?" Tico said, "How?"
"Submarine just put two torpedoes into us, and now she's sailing alongside."
"Wha-what?" Tico said, unable to process what she was being told. How could the subs have sunk the ship? They were south, weren't they?
After informing the remaining subs that they had won over the Gertrude, one of them came on the radio, "Good exercise, but it looks like we have the upper hand this time."
"I swear," Tico said, "When I find out what kind of stunt you pulled, you won't win the next one."
"We will see. We will see." Tico didn't know exactly what had happened, but she did know that Halsey was going to be pissed.
[][][][[][]][][]
Dallas slapped Red on the back. They were back in Groton, sharing a round of the won beer in the club. "Three cheers for the superiority of the silent service," she said, "And of the victor of the exercise, Red October."
"Here, here," replied Pogy, lifting her own mug.
"I did nothing special," Red said, blushing heavily.
"BS, it takes balls to sail under a destroyer squadron," Annapolis added, "You did better than me."
"I wonder when the next exercise is going to be?" Dallas said, thinking aloud.
"Whenever it is, we have out undefeated ace right here to help us out," Pogy said, "Now, how about another cheer for the victor." The rest of the night broke down into pleasantry and small talk as the girls celebrated their victory.
Inspiration for this snip:
Dallas was wasting time. She hated to admit it, but that's what she was doing. Video games were just one of the few things she had been introduced to since coming back, and she tended to get sucked in completely. While she was playing a rather infuriating series of matches on World of Warships, Red sat at the other end of the room, nose buried in a book. "Oh, come on," Dallas shouted, for perhaps the fifth time that morning, "How could you fall for that? You don't charge destroyers, why don't people remember this?" She had a pair of headphones on, so she didn't hear Pogy walking into the room.
"Sup, bitches," the older submarine called.
Red looked up from her book, and replied, "Good morning Ms. Pogy. I'm afraid that I do not know what's up."
"It's just a figure of," Pogy tried to explain, 'Never mind, what's big D up too?"
Dallas provided the answer herself, "You shit for brains, DON'T CHARGE THE DAMN CHANNEL."
"Ah, the bloody boat game as the Brits described it," Pogy observed, "How long has she been at this?"
"Three chapters," Red replied.
Pogy finally noticed Red's book, "What'cha reading there?" Red answered by passing the book over, making sure to mark her place. "Third World War: the Untold Story? What is this?"
"A convincing scenario for a conflict between your country, and my homeland," Red replied, taking the book back.
"How's it end?" Pogy asked, intrigued.
"I have not yet reached that point, but a temporary cease fire has been established following a limited nuclear exchange."
Pogy shuddered, "Stuff of nightmares right there. Anywho, I came in here to do something, what was it?"
"You scrub, TURN YOUR RUDDER NEXT TIME," Dallas shouted, still completely unaware that Pogy was in the room.
"Oh that's right," Pogy said, snapping her fingers. She walked over to Dallas, and knocked the headset off her head.
"Hey, what was that for?" Dallas asked, rubbing the back of her head.
"This is your warning, just got word that Wahoo wants all of us in the right now," Pogy explained.
"Wait, why didn't you lead with that one?" Dallas asked, leaning down to flip off the computer, "And meeting about what?"
Pogy shrugged, "I dunno, probably the surface boys are mad about the last thrashing we gave them."
"Surprise exercise?"
"You didn't hear that from me," Pogy said with a wink, "Anyway, better get going, Wahoo's seemed rather insistent about this one." She gave a little wave, then started to walk out.
"Ms. Pogy," Red intercepted her, "Am I to be included in this exercise?"
"Pogy shrugged again, "Skipper said everyone, and you're part of everyone. Don't be late Big D. Don't want the captain on your ass, again."
Dallas made a dismissive gesture, "fine, fine, I'll be there." Pogy nodded, then backed out of the room, leaving Dallas and Red alone.
"What are these exercises?" Red asked after a second.
"War games we run with the surface pukes," Dallas explained, "We have an objective, and the surface guys try to stop us. We usually win, and the surface guys get mad and demand rematches."
"So it is a test of strength, da?" Red asked.
"And cunning, and strategy, and luck," Dallas replied. She stood up and stretched, then reached down to shut off her computer. "Come on, let's go. I don't want Wahoo to jump me for being late, again," Dallas said with a groan. She walked out as quickly as she could, and tried to slip into the mess as quietly as possible.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough, Wahoo fixed her with a "look" and said, "Nice of you to join us ensign." Dallas slid into her seat without another word. Red silently sat down next to her. Wahoo looked at her for another moment, then said, "Got a call from my counterpart down in Norfolk. She has a group of fresh destroyer girls who need some ASW practice, so we got the rotation."
"Who gets the duty?" someone in the back shouted.
Wahoo shuffled her papers around for a second, then replied, "Anyone who wasn't in the last one, and who's on cooldown. So, Rickover 709 Dallas 700, Annapolis 760, Narwhal 671, Pogy 647and Ohio 726 is the vip." There were several ships in the fleet these days with duplicate names. When meeting unprofessionally, nicknames were used to prevent confusion, but when talking professionally, a ship's hull number would be said after her name. Every ship knew their hull number just as well as their name. "Any more questions?"
"Yeah, what do you have riding on this?" someone shouted, Dallas guessed that it was Annapolis, that girl always knew the worst time to make jokes.
Wahoo looked out at the assembled girls for a second, before replying, tone deadly serious, "Several cases of beer and the right to pick the next exercise location and type." A low whistle permeated the crowd. That was an important decision, whoever picked the terrain, could give their side a decided advantage. "If that's all?" Wahoo asked, then waited a beat before continuing, "Alright, those going on the mission report to the armory for gear issue." The assembled girls stood up and walked out. Red started to stand up, but Dallas put a hand on her thigh and shook her head. A minute later, the only ones still in the mess were Wahoo, Dallas, and Red.
Wahoo spent a minute looking at Dallas, before saying, "I think I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is yes. I do want Red October on the exercise."
"May I ask why?" Dallas replied.
"Because both you and Pogy are going to be away, and I don't want to leave her alone. Plus, Halsey won the last two exercises, and maybe Red's sneaky trick can help you wipe that smug look of her face. On that note, expect P-8s. Would not put it past Halsey to rope in a PATRON to help her win."
"Is that all, Captain Wahoo?" Red asked, and stood up, "I am eager to begin the mission."
"Good," Wahoo replied, then she looked at Dallas, "Try to keep her out of trouble, D."
"Sure thing skipper," Dallas replied, "Come on, Red, let's go get your gear." Dallas walked out of the mess, with Red close on her heels.
[][][][][][][][][][]
"Damn it's cold," Dallas said, shivering. If there was one thing she hated in this new life, it was having to dive into the freezing waters of New London, during the winter. She was almost glad for the heat provided by her wetsuit, even if it did restrict her movement, but there were always a few seconds while the suit filled when she had to endure the full chill of the water.
"In Polyarny, it is routinely this cold, or colder," Red stated, "There were times when we needed to climb over ice floes to exit the bay."
Pogy gave the Russian a questioning look, "You mean they didn't clear a channel?"
Red shrugged, stating, "The only units that use that base these days are ship girls. Why waste money using an icebreaker when we can climb or avoid the ice?"
"So what's the big deal with her?" asked Annapolis. The redhead, was rubbing her arms, trying to get some feeling back into them, "Why do we have a Russian sub tagging along with us?"
"I am ballistic missile submarine Red October," Red added, helpfully.
"Oh, she's a boomer, even better. You have anything to add to this discussion, Narwhal?" Annapolis turned to look at the other SSN in their group.
The blonde shook her head, saying, "No." Narwhal was a quiet girl, preferring to speak as little as possible.
"How about the big girl?" Annapolis turned to Ohio, "Your fellow boomer, what're your thoughts."
"There's a reason, stop asking questions," the tall brunette replied in her characteristic calm tone. It took a lot to get Ohio to lose her stoic demeanor, in fact, it was something of a game with the new girls to try to get a rise out of the boomer.
"Just me then? Okay, well I still want answers," Annapolis said with a huff.
Dallas let out a sigh, then explained, "Back when we were all boats, Red's captain defected to the US. He brought her with him. So for whatever reason, when she came back, she tried the same stunt."
"And the let us keep her?" asked Rickover, speaking up for the first time.
"No, not at first. First time they ask for me back, and then again second time. It was on third try, that they give up and let me stay," Red explained.
Annapolis let out a low whistle, "Damn girl, you are one stubborn sumbitch."
"Concur," Narwhal said.
"If I may? Why is she with us?" Rickover asked, "If I remember correctly, Soviet submarines were not the quietest boats in the water. In fact, they were quite noisy."
"You wanna tell her, Red?" Pogy asked the Russian.
"I was fitted with a prototype propulsion device," Red explained, "A tunnel impellor system. The use of this masks my noise signal."
"But we already have a super sneaky," Annapolis said, pointing a thumb at Ohio, "Why do we need another?" She was right about that, the Ohio class of missile boats were the quietest submarines ever put to sea. The surface Navy had learned to track them by not listening for where their noise was, but for where the sea noise wasn't. Even then, this method only sort of worked. They couldn't really track the boomers. No Ohio class had ever been successfully tracked.
"The idea," Dallas explained, in no uncertain terms, "Is to use her as our ace in the hole. None of the surface girls know about her, or her sound profile. So we can surprise them with her. So if we're done chitchatting, let's get below the water and get on the war. Those tin cans aren't going to wait forever." A round of nods and affirmative replies later, and all the submarine girls slipped beneath the water.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][]
The girl lowered her binoculars. She could see nothing on the water's surface, even though spotting a submarine visually was next to impossible. She could use her phased array radar to try to get a paint off a possible antenna, but she was still a bit apprehensive about using that. Evans replaced the binos around her neck, and muttered, "I see nothing."
"What makes you think you can spot them with that?" asked Nicholas, FFG-47. The former Perry class frigate was something of a master when it came to ASW. She was always working as hard as she could to make a name for herself out of the shadow of her big sister.
"Hey, Evans, your helo pick anything up yet?" asked Ticonderoga, the commander of this little task group. Evans shifted her focus to the little SH-60 flying out ahead of the ship girls, and listened as it flew low to drop its dipping sonar into the water.
"Nothing yet," she said, "I'm going to put a sonobuoy net 5 miles outside the target. We'll catch them as they come in." Evans unconsciously looked over her shoulder at the target of the exercise, a medium size container ship that the Navy had borrowed for the day.
"Good," replied Tico, "Nick, keep your heli in reserve. We have a P-8 about to make a MAD sweep, so that ought to narrow our search grid." Not two minutes later, the big, gray jet swooped overhead. It waggled it's wings slightly as it passed over, then flew off to the north.
"This is where it gets interesting. Or rather boring," Nick said, "We wait for them to come to us."
"Great," muttered Tico, then watched as the Poseidon began it's back and forth "Mow the lawn" search pattern.
"New contacts," Evans called, then tapped the locations onto her map unit. All of the girls had one of the tablet computers. They displayed a chart of the current location, and allowed them to share position data. Nick pressed a hand to the headset she was wearing, and listened to the take from the sonobuoy net.
"Sounds like a group of 688 boats, maybe a 673 with them," she stated, "There's our targets."
"Isn't there supposed to be a boomer with them?" Evans asked, trying to remember the exercise parameters.
"Yeah, but she can't attack. If we sink her, we instantly win," Tico explained, "Same thing with our freighter." Evans nodded her acceptance of this.
"Tell your chopper to get it's fish ready," Nick said, "Drop when I tell you too." Evans nodded, then
[][][][][][][][][]
Dallas was a bit worried. She knew they were in range of the tin cans, but she hadn't caught a whiff of them yet. They had heard the Poseidon roar overhead fifteen minutes ago, so it was a logical assumption that they had been spotted. Unfortunately, they had no way to confirm that. Well, no way until the shots started flying. All she could do was sail slowly forward, letting her tail of powerful hydrophones listen to everything around. The sound of a helicopter flying low over the water caused the hairs on her neck to stand up. Had they been spotted? Dallas looked back at the rest of the girls, and said, "Helo up on deck, watch out."
The girls had a few different options to communicate underwater these days. The first, the one that they had kept from their steel hull days, was the underwater telephone or Gertrude, but using this gave away their position to everyone within 50 miles. The next was the hand signals perfected during the Abyssal war, but those were reserved for emergencies due to the last method. A battery powered laser comms system meant that they girls could talk to each other with no chance of eavesdropping.
"Anything else?" asked Pogy.
"Not yet," Dallas replied, "But expect there to be sonobuoys up above the layer." The subs were currently cruising under the thermocline. The boundary between the warm surface water and the cold bottom created a barrier that reflected sound like a concrete wall. Dallas was periodically rising above it just long enough to get a better read of the area. The sound of something slamming into the water over her head caused her to freeze. "TORP IN THE WATER," she screamed. Noise be damned at this point, they had to act now. The ethereal wailing of a Mk-54 MAKO torp reverberated through the water. The fish's high frequency search sonar was piercing the water, searching for its prey.
The submarine girls shifted into high gear, instantly. They made a mad rush deeper, hoping to confuse the fish with the thermocline. A few sonar decoys were ejected into the water. The bubble makers would give the torp a false sonar return to home in on. "It's going to acquisition," Pogy shouted as the frequency of the sonar pings shifted. This meant that the torp had found a target, and was now homing.
"Scatter," was the only thing Dallas could say. There was no way to tell which of the girls the torp had latched onto, so the only course of action they could take, was to assume that they were all being targeted. Dallas increased speed, then made a rapid course change. Creating a knuckle in the water, an area of roiled water that would confuse a torp on her tail. She kept up the rapid course and speed changes for the next five minutes, until a loud flat tone echoed through the water. This was the signal that the exercise torp had detonated, silently saying, "If this had been real, you would be dead right now." It was up to the girls to call themselves out if they had been painted by the exercise shot.
Annapolis said with the sound phone a second later, "Okay, you got me. I'm coming up." This was also procedure, it let the other subs know who had been hit, and the destroyers chasing them as well.
"Damn," Dallas swore, "They know where we are. I can bet this whole area is blanketed with buoys now."
"What do we do, D?" Pogy asked.
"Normally, I'd say lie low and let their focus shift, but the time limit will run out before then," Dallas replied.
"Play the trump," Narwhal said, crossing her arms.
"Okay," Dallas looked over at Red, "Make a run for that freighter on caterpillar, we'll run south to distract them."
"I can do this," Red replied, "I will not let you down, Ms. Dallas."
Dallas nodded, "Right, the rest of us, we're heading south, and make some noise."
[][][][][][][]
"Yes," Evans cheered, pumping her fist, "Got one."
"Stay frosty," Tico chastised, "There are still more out there. You got anything, Nick."
Nick's eyes were half closed as she listened to the sonar take, "Contacts are moving south on high speed. I think they're running."
"Why would they be running?" Evans asked, "They can't get out of range, and back into it before the time runs out. Can they?"
"No, I don't think so," Nick replied.
"Nick, send up your helo, it's your turn to fish," Tico ordered.
"Hey wait, I got something," Nick said, holding up her hand, "Doesn't sound like a sub though, sounds like…. Like, magma displacement or something."
"Magma displacement?" Tico deadpanned.
"Hey, that's what the computer came up with."
Tico sighed, "Ignore it, probably just some plates shifting off the shelf. Keep an eye on those subs."
"Aye, ma'am," Nick replied.
About fifteen minutes later, the unhappy voice of the freighter captain came over the radio, "I hate to say this, miss, but we've been sunk."
"WHAT?" Tico said, "How?"
"Submarine just put two torpedoes into us, and now she's sailing alongside."
"Wha-what?" Tico said, unable to process what she was being told. How could the subs have sunk the ship? They were south, weren't they?
After informing the remaining subs that they had won over the Gertrude, one of them came on the radio, "Good exercise, but it looks like we have the upper hand this time."
"I swear," Tico said, "When I find out what kind of stunt you pulled, you won't win the next one."
"We will see. We will see." Tico didn't know exactly what had happened, but she did know that Halsey was going to be pissed.
[][][][[][]][][]
Dallas slapped Red on the back. They were back in Groton, sharing a round of the won beer in the club. "Three cheers for the superiority of the silent service," she said, "And of the victor of the exercise, Red October."
"Here, here," replied Pogy, lifting her own mug.
"I did nothing special," Red said, blushing heavily.
"BS, it takes balls to sail under a destroyer squadron," Annapolis added, "You did better than me."
"I wonder when the next exercise is going to be?" Dallas said, thinking aloud.
"Whenever it is, we have out undefeated ace right here to help us out," Pogy said, "Now, how about another cheer for the victor." The rest of the night broke down into pleasantry and small talk as the girls celebrated their victory.