News and Stories from the Vilnius Union

[Kaiser Kirk]

21 February 1922

"Gustav, I want to go home," Princess Christine declared as they prepared to call it a night in the VIP quarters of Bug.

I'm not sure if Princess Christine is a tad...petulant? Or just self-aware that she doesn't want to be put out in the name of 'service'.  ?

[The Rock Doctor]

I reckon snip and Tac do a lovely job portraying regal, competent monarchs and so I feel like I should do something different.

[The Rock Doctor]

25 February to 3 March, 1922

The Union squadron continues onto toward the Parthian Gulf under the watchful eyes of Parthian dirigibles and later seaplanes.  At the entrance to the Gulf itself, the squadron is met by the Parthian armored cruiser Sparabara, apparently recently rebuilt and with one Captain Mihrin in command.  Diplomatic personnel attached to Wiceadmiral Stastny's staff recognize that Mihrin is one of the empire's great houses but can't be certain that this encounter has particular significance.

The Gulf is thick with vessels, from fishing craft to large merchants such as tankers. The sailing craft of these waters are dhows, with lateen rigs, and make up the majority of traffic.  The shoreline is studded with the iconic Parthian lighthouses and harbor markers – white marble pillars topped with beacons of light, or gold leaf flames carvings denoting the Zoroastrian flame of knowledge.

At Bushere, the dredged channel makes a gentle 'U', forcing vessels to make a wide turn under the watchful eye of the harbor defenses.  While merchants, tankers and fishing craft take much of the harbor, it has been a military base for nearly two thousand years.   The Parthian battleships Stormbringer and [/i]Mournblade[/i] and their escorts are anchored with their archaic nets out, a Parthian practice even in safe harbors. In the distance, the Royal Dockyards are engaged in the construction of new armored cruisers, destroyers and patrol vessels.

As Bug ties up, an honor guard of dragoons and open-topped cars are waiting, under the command of one Colonel Vache, who is well-adorned with medals.  The royal family and Wiceadmiral Stastny inspect the dragoons, whom young Princess Edyta pronounces to be "very shiny" with polished breastplates, helmets and all that. 

The motorcade whisks the Union delegation into the city proper.  The city is a mercantile one, with a port quarter separated by an ancient wall from the rest of the city, which has long sprawled beyond.  The city and people are clean and prosperous, something of a contrast to the Union's own gritty port cities.  The designated hotel set aside for the visitors is not super impressive from the outside but gloriously cool inside, which the entire delegation appreciates.

A greeting ceremony ensues.  the local City dignitaries are gathered and present a key to the city.  The gathered assemblage includes  not only the local lesser nobles of the Wurzurgun, the town legislature,  leaders of the prominent guilds, and the lead Zoroastrian Magi, Bishop of the Church of the East,  and senior Rabbi.  As is the Parthian tradition, the assembled notables wear formal wear ornate light robes denoting their official status, while embroidered sashes bespeak the accomplishments of themselves and their houses.

After the ceremony comes a banquet. The same city notables are now joined by officers of the Parthian fleet, and army. As an informal event, the formal robes are dispensed with, though the personal sashes are retained. Under the robes, the men wear tunics and breeches tucked into boots, while the women wear scandalously short dress the fall just above the knee and silken hose with heeled slippers.  Colonel Vache in civilian clothes is heralded to the room as Shazadeh Vache Arascid, Prince of the Realm, and 3rd in line of succession, takes his place and plays host. The deference shown him in this role compared to that of colonel is striking. The feast has generous helpings of well made local dishes, with additional dishes showcasing flavors from around the Indian Ocean, followed by a play from the Parthian epic Shamnameh.

The next morning, a special train takes the Union delegation to the ancient city of Shiraz.  Set in a highland valley fed with water from ancient engineering projects, Shiraz is known as the city of Poets, Gardens, Nightingales, flowers and the finest wine in the world.  An important city for millennia, Shiraz has a number of grand structures, including many palaces and is festooned with gardens. As in Bushere the procession to the palace attracts many of the prosperous populace, and apparently tossing flowers is an accolade.

The banquet at the palace is a grand affair. The King of Kings, Shahanshah  Alexandros V, presides, while Prince Vache mingles.  Vistaspa Karen, the Granddame of the House of Karen, and Naval Minister Mihrin of House Mihrin, two of the Seven Great Houses, are in attendance.  While the food in Bushere had been very good, a vast panoply of delicacies and dishes and libations are available here. Persian dancing girls, and some men, renowned across Asia for over a thousand years, perform during dinner, after which there is music, dancing and more drinking.  The following day is filled with a breakfast, tours of gardens, and the afternoon train to Bushere.

For the junior officers and men of the squadron, the visit is more sedate.  Most obtain a bit of shore leave in Bushere, doing some sightseeing, shopping, and what carousing they can, although the linguistic divide is more of an issue here than it had been in ports closer to home.  Anybody with basic fluency in Latin or Greek finds himself in great demand to haggle, ask directions, or otherwise engage with the locals. 

As before, the squadron receives all manner of visitors aboard Szermierz for an on-deck tour, while Oriona is open to a limited visit by Parthian military personnel.  On the first of March, the Regensburg and her charges arrive, not allowing much time for leave for those crews.  The important thing, however, is that every ship in the squadron take on as much fuel oil as possible, for it's clear that the Indian subcontinent will offer little, if any, opportunity to top up the bunkers.



OOC:  Thanks to Kirk for contributing a significant amount of the above.

[The Rock Doctor]

3 March 1922:  Bushere

"Your Highness:  Welcome aboard the Warta," Komandor Porucznik Urbe said, saluting the Crown Prince of the Vilnius Union.

"Yes, um, thank you, Captain," Gustav replied, returning the salute. 

"It is an unexpected pleasure to have you with us for the remainder of the tour," Urbe said, carefully trying to walk the line between You can't not say something about the change and the Wiceadmiral explicitly said not to call attention to the matter.

"I'm sure it will be a delightful experience," Gustav said.  Thank God the ship hadn't mustered a band or some enormous honor guard for the occasion.

"We'll certainly do our best to make it so," Urbe answered.  "I regret that our flag accommodations are neither as comfortable nor as spacious as I understand Bug's to be, but-"

"It's fine, Captain," Gustav said.  "Most of my retinue are heading back home aboard Bug as it is."

"Yes, Sir," Urbe agreed.  Not far away, the other cruiser was raising steam in preparation for an unscheduled return back to Amsterdam, with the princess and the royal hellions children still aboard.  Urbe had understood that Bug would be legging it as much as her escort would allow, and that meant her escort was going to be Regensburg, given that the sloop's could cruiser at fifteen or twenty knots a fair bit further than the squadron's torpedo-boats could.  "Anyway, if you'd care to accompany me forward, I'd be pleased to give you a tour of the facilities.  I understand at least some of your people and luggage are already aboard and would wager that the rest are in the, er, group coming up the pier now."

"Very good," Gustav nodded, relieved that the conversation had come and gone without him having to explain anything.

Urbe turned and the two men fell into step together, shadowed by the prince's major domo and Urbe's steward.  "As you might know, sir, Warta's a brand new ship - just completed last year.  I certainly considered it an honor to be added to the squadron, although I think that reflects as much on the ship's capabilities as that of the crew.  We're still shaking down, of course."

"Of course," Gustav echoed.

"You'll find that the layout often reflects that of Bug, particularly forward, but is just different enough aft to perhaps be a bit confusing," Urbe noted.  "Ten thirteen-centimeter guns in five mountings, some lighter defensive guns and torpedoes.  Also an aeroplane, amusingly enough.  Not many of those in the fleet just yet.  It's been a fair learning experience just handling it."

"No doubt."  The prince silently agreed that the ship did, in fact, look a lot like the one he'd sailed on over the past several weeks, but the specifics were really not of interest to him.  Parthian wine - interesting.  Fast-shooting cannons - not interesting.

"And just through this hatch, into the superstructure - sorry about the temperatures, our ventilation systems just aren't up to this kind of heat," Urbe observed.  "And up one level, mind that pipe, here we are.  The bridge and my own cabin are above us, but this space includes the admiral's cabin and accommodation for a typical screen commander's staff, a small wardroom, and some working space including a plotting table.  I think we can squeeze in all of your people, but if not, my steward and yours can figure out where we'll put the most junior people."

"Indeed, Sir," the steward interjected.

Not far off, a volley of light guns cracked a familiar tempo.  All four men recognized it to be a salute for the departure of the interim royal yacht, Bug, with Gustav's wife and children aboard.  Somewhere, at some point, word would get out to the larger world that his family were returning home at the suggestion of their chief physician on grounds of unspecified health concerns.  For now, though, Gustav was alone in a way he wasn't accustomed to, in a ship not fitted out to transport an heir to the throne, traveling the world for another four months, and he wasn't sure what he thought about that at all.

[The Rock Doctor]

6 March 1922

Escorted by the Rajastani armored cruser Chaimpiyan and its escorts, the diminished Union squadron arrives at Karachi for a two night visit. 

Prince Gustav, Wiceadmiral Stastny, and guests dine with the local head of state, Maharena Fateh Singh Sisodia on the evening of the 6th.  The Rajasthani sovereign is, to be honest, not super-interested in the distant Vilnius Union and its various happenings.  He is, however, pretty interested in what the Union guests think about their stop in Parthia, and impresses upon his guests that his nation defeated the Parthians in battle a quarter-century ago. 

On the 7th, the torpedo-boat Malta is open for an above-decks tour by members of the public, although interest is somewhat muted compared to other stops.  Warta is now off-limits on account of hosting Prince Gustav's person and entourage, Oriona as usual hosts a small naval delegation, and Moravska is escorting the depot ships down to Kandy, having earned that dubious duty after the discovery of yet more crew hijinks.  This time it was a temporarily successful attempt at smuggling Parthian wine aboard, the offending casks being discovered and disposed of while at sea.

Senior Rajastani naval personnel board Szermierz for a brief sortie out of Karachi, where the armored cruiser works up to flank speed for a brief time and, later, demonstrates her 350mm guns at a gunnery range.  The hosts quiz the Union officers at length about how they'd use the cruiser in action against a slow, powerful capital ship that might hypothetically fit the description of a Parthian battleship, and junior officers take some notes.

The Rajastani cruiser joins in the festivities but can't keep pace with the newer, larger cruiser and her gunnery display is both less accurate and less impressive.  The Union officers observing are nonetheless suitably encouraging and positive.

9 March 1922

"I'm sorry, there's no fuel oil here to sell you," the Deccan harbourmaster advised the Union Squadron's logistics officer, Komandor Braun. 

"None?  I was advised that there might be a small supply available," Braun replied.  He'd disembarked from Malta a half hour ago, after the usual high-level diplomatic greetings were out of the way and the Crown Prince had been whisked away to see Mumbai.

"Not a gallon," the local shrugged.  "Believe me, sir, I'd be delighted to sell you what I had, had I any to sell, but we do not have any reserves here.  Were you advised otherwise?"

"No, no, evidently my colleague was mistaken," Braun said.

"Perhaps he confused us with Laksmanavati.  Europeans do that from time to time.  The Iberians are the worst for that."  The harbourmaster turned and spat on the floor.

"I've heard they're not...tremendously popular here," Braun ventured.

"Well, they've come all the way across the world to stake their claims to the spice islands, my friend, and with all due respect, that's just rude.  Look at your own government in contrast:  You've stayed well away, leaving the islands to those with the greatest interest and stake in them."

Braun nodded.  "They get around.  I was at Dakar."

The quartermaster nodded, then added, "I don't know where that it is, actually."

"Oh.  An African port.  The Union attempted to...establish relations with the locals but the Iberians got there first and came out shooting when we arrived."

"Oh, you fought?"

"There was a brief battle.  We sank their battleship," Braun confirmed, not mentioning that he'd been a junior officer on one of the troop transports that Lucznik and Bug had defended from the ancient Iberian tub and its more problematic escorts.

"Glorious!  A marvelous feat of arms!" the quartermaster exclaimed, then said something in his own language to his staff, eliciting a smattering of applause.  "Sadly, it does not change the oil situation."

"I didn't expect it would, no..." Braun said.  "Well, we should be able to top up our bunkers at Kandy, at least..."

[The Rock Doctor]

14 - 30 March, 1922

The Union squadron has no difficulty securing bunker oil over the next two weeks because it makes stops at the Kingdom of Kandy and the Sultanate of Brunei.  Both are under the thumb of Parthia, which happens to be the world's major exporter, and Brunei happens to be a major producer in its own right.

The stop at the port of Kolombo, Kandy is barely twenty-four hours long and shore leave is not granted to enlisted men.  Local dignitaries are met and entertained and the ships' bunkers are topped up.

The cruise up the subcontinent is relatively uneventful, apart from Malta being detached to assist in search and rescue operations after a Deccan trawler puts out an SOS.  Deccan naval units arrive before Malta does and the torpedo-boat rejoins the main squadron after several hours as a temporarily independent command.

The visit to Laksmanavati lasts two nights.  Chittagong had been flagged as a potential challenge for Szermierz given the cruiser's draft and what little was known about the harbour's geography.  The hosts' own battleships have no trouble tying up at Chittagong's piers, but their hulls ride metres higher than Szermierz's, and the armored cruiser outmasses both units by a wide margin.  Wiceadmiral Stastny ends up ordering his flagship to spend the tour anchored in the roadstead while the other ships make use of the facilities. 

The formalities follow the usual template:  A night ashore being hosted by the government of Ramchandra Singa Dev, then a night aboard Szermierz.  Given local politics, the Union delegation is gently but thoroughly quizzed about their impressions of the Deccans and Rajasthanis.  Perhaps surprisingly, the Laksmanavati naval complement is less interested in Szermierz - a ship well beyond their own capabilities and budget - and more interested in the Union's most modern light cruiser class.  A tour and demo of Warta is hastily arranged, with Prince Gustav joining the visitors to observed a shooting exercise.  The visitors are reasonably impressed with the ship's broadsides, accuracy and speed, and are intrigued about the single floatplane and its utilization.

The crew get one stint of shore leave in Chittagong and are pleasantly surprised by what is a clearly a rich and busy city.  Local vendors do good business hustling textiles - local attire but also actual bolts of fabric - to Union men looking for something for the girl(s) back home.  Sadly, two of Oriona's men are badly beaten up after an incident possibly related to prostitution; after a night in Chittagong's primary hospital - are transferred back to their ship for follow-up care.

Szermierz's captain is mildly put out that his ship is not the center of attention, but takes the opportunity to have his engineering department start some maintenance on shaft #3, which has been vibrating outside what is consider normal since departing Bushere.  The shaft is still out of service when the squadron departs for Brunei, where staff from the depot ships Rosadny and Ostrozny are happy to come aboard and stand around while ratings and junior officers show the armored cruiser's chief engineer what they're seeing and thinking.

The stop at Brunei is a designated rest point, with four nights allocated.  Everybody gets ashore at least once, other than some of Szermierz's engineering department and a few of Moravska's repeat offenders.  It is...restful...but Brunei Town is a small, young place whose existence is largely about exporting oil.  The locals aren't even super keen on drinking and whoring.

The entire squadron departs on the 30th of March.  Moravska and the depot ships, making directly for Tokyo at 10 knots, soon fall behind Szermierz and her companions, which make for Manila at fifteen knots with a plane overhead.



OOC:  Foxy, anything I should know or that you want to post?

[The Rock Doctor]

31 March – 3 April, 1922

From the personal journal of Komandor Nels Jurgensen, OZW Szermierz

31 March 1922

Tested number 3 shaft for one hour.  Still some vibration, but not as bad as before.  Chief wondering if local temperatures are a factor somehow – affecting lubricant viscosity?  None of us are chemists so that's a question for later.

Will put a dive team down to inspect the screw and shaft once we make anchor in Manila but are not expecting to find anything.  Certainly no indication we struck an underwater obstruction and screw damage is inconsistent with today's tests, but better safe than sorry.

1 April 1922

Called for fire drill at 0915, simulating outbreak in forward paint locker.  Crew performed reasonably well, but one rating to sick bay with heatstroke.

Completed short transit from Brunei to Manila, tying up at pier at 1522.  Standard pomp and greetings followed by meet and greet ashore with local officials. 

Must admit, a heavier Japanese naval presence was expected.  Ships present include units intel had placed in Australia - two battleships, armored cruiser, light cruiser, light forces.  Have asked senior officers to discretely inquire on the matter.

2 April 1922

Three ratings collected from Manila central lock-up after an issue in the harbour district over night.  Locals do not appear offended, no serious injuries.  No more leave for them on this visit and I'll consider further discipline after we return to sea. 

Received tour of armored cruiser Owari this AM.  Broadly a peer of Lucznik type.  Good value for money, but speed may be an issue against newer cruiser-killing types.  Smart, well-disciplined crew. 

Hosted tour of ship in PM, with local naval staff and a few civilian VIPs in attendance.  Conversation suggests Japanese approach to line cruisers has less focus on protection, speed, possibly for financial reasons.  Hosted dinner afterward, satisfactory.  Introduced pierogis to guests, who were expecting dumplings.

Dive inspection reported no obvious damage to screw or shaft.

3 April

XO volunteered self to oversee oiling and "suggested" I get ashore for a brief time.  Many rickshaws (?) available to rent but was happy to walk.  Feels like a modern and very new city – not a lot of old infrastructure.  Locals seem happy to haggle with a foreigner, seem to get along with the Japanese, but have also heard from a couple of merchants about possible uprisings in former Chinese islands nearby.  Did not come up in conversation yesterday.

Picked up souvenirs for family and returned to ship.

Lunch w/ Wiceadmiral Stastny.  He and flag staff toured light cruiser Oi, noted ship not significantly armored but also not a standard light cruiser, either.  Sisters have heavy torpedo armament, this unit ships MTBs – possibly radio-guided.  Unclear how that works.  Admiral otherwise enjoying visit.

Addendum:  Admiral confirmed assessment of Japanese deployments, but has no concrete explanations.  Blamed the Mayans.  Fair, but haven't heard of any trouble involving them since we sortied.

Understand usual tour of Oriona for Japanese took place but did not attend.  Can only hear same spiel so many times.

Weighted anchor 1634 and underway for Tokyo. 


OOC:  So anything for that leg would be useful, Foxy, thanks.

[Kaiser Kirk]

Thank you for writing these up, enjoying them :)

[The Rock Doctor]

8-12 April 1922:  Tokyo

Smoke blossomed from the side of the Japanese cruiser Kongo, then the sound of the shot reached Warta.  "They're..." Prince Gustav started, hesitated, then finished the thought.  "Surely they're not still using sailing ships in action?"

The men on the cruiser's port wing were silent and maintained credible poker faces.  "No, Your Majesty," Komandor Porucznik Urbe replied after a moment.  "I understand that's a training vessel, very soon to be taken out of service.  They're using modern ships like those Atago-class battlecruisers there, just like we do."

Kongo fired again to continue the salute, her sails taut with the wind.  "Of course, of course, it just...never mind," Gustav said.  "Do we operate something like her?  You have to admit it's a striking vessel."

"No, Your Majesty.  I don't think there've been any sail-rigged ships in the navy since...I can't think of one, actually."

"Hmm.  Is there a use for such a boat?"

Urbe had a fleeting vision of being "honored" with the command of a new sailing frigate in two year's time.  "I don't believe so, Sir.  In my view, our current approach to cadet training – such as the fast training cruiser Danube – is a more sensible one.  I'd venture the Japanese agree."

"Of course, of course," Gustav murmured.  "These salutes just go on and on, don't they?"


*****


"Your Majesty, a brief word on tonight's dinner," Gustav's major domo spoke up as other staff helped the prince don the dress uniform of his former unit, 5. Pomorska Dywizja Piechoty.

"Go ahead?" Gustav said, glancing down to check the polish on his Erican Service Medal.

"Our liaison advises that the Japanese will be serving some exotic fare which you may not have sampled before.  The local term is sushi and-"

"What is it?"

"Generally speaking, it's rice accompanied by seafood and vegetables, along with local condiments," the major domo said.

"Oh, well, that's fine," Gustav said.  "I don't mind fish.  Some fresh herring would be delightful."

"I don't know if that's on the menu or not, Sire," the other man said.  "Nonetheless, the basic ingredients should all be familiar, even if the manner of preparation or presentation is unfamiliar, and consider exercising discretion when sampling the condiments."

"Of course, of course," Gustav agreed.


*****


"Might I join you?" a voice asked as Komandor Porucznik Urbe leaned against a rail of the Tatsuta Maru and looked out across Tokyo Bay.

"Certainly, Sir," Urbe replied, turning to greet the visitor.  It was an older man with a small scar on his left cheek, wearing a green and black dress uniform.  "Komandor Porucznik Jurgis Urbe, commanding the cruiser Warta."

"A pleasure to meet you," the newcomer said as they shook hands.  "Major Katsuo Nakatomi, with the Imperial Japanese Army General Staff."

"Nice to meet you," Urbe said.  "I was just getting a bit of fresh air while I digest all that food."

"It was quite a feast," Nakatomi nodded.  "Did you enjoy it?"

"Very much so, yes."

"Delightful," Nakatomi said.  "I found the rice to be slightly overcooked, and the wasabi to be weaker than expected.  Your prince may have agreed on the latter; after that first large dollop, I don't believe he tried it again."

"That's quite possible.  I thought it was pleasant but defer to your experience," Urbe said.

Nakatomi nodded.  "I wonder if I might ask you a bit about the state of shore bombardment in your navy.  While our navy has its own marine force, we in the army are of course the primary combat arm ashore and it is, in my view, critically important to ensure that heavy artillery is available to the army at all times, including the early hours of an amphibious landing on hostile shores.  Would you not agree?"

"Makes sense," Urbe agreed.

"Our challenge is that the Navy, if I may be blunt, finds the task to be uninteresting.  It maintains no modern, dedicated vessels for the task, whereas you Union people do?"

Urbe nodded.  "That's correct.  Our original monitors were built more for a coastal defence function in the entrances to the Baltic Sea – bringing heavy guns to shallower waters in support of light torpedo craft.  But since we've engaged in the Loob Doctrine, the coastal bombardment function has been a factor in their design and utilization."

"And what are their capabilities?"

"Well, they're not very fast," Urbe noted.  "The newest types can't make more than fifteen knots.  The older ships mount twenty-eight centimeter guns in a single twin turret.  The newer monitors have been built in part to test new naval artillery before it enters service on our capital ships, so Szczyt carries a triple thirty-five centimetre mounting and the Attakulla a triple forty centimetre mounting."

"Forty!" Nakatomi exclaimed, holding his hands out to visualize the diameter of the shell.  "These must be extraordinarily heavy shells..."

"Nine hundred kilograms," Urbe agreed.

"And how big is the ship to carry this installation?"


*****


"You look a little worse for wear," Urbe's steward commented the next morning as he delivered a tray of sausage, scramble eggs, and dark rye toast to his bleary-eyed captain.

"Gah..." Urbe muttered.

"Was it an enjoyable time at least?"

"I guess?  Far too much of that rice wine.  Far too much," Urbe said quietly.  "Spent a lot of time answering questions about monitors from some army guy.  Like, super-specific questions.  Rate of fire of main battery, circular error probabilities, stuff like that."  He rubbed his forehead and contemplated the breakfast without enthusiasm.  "We ended up huddled over a copy of Janek's All The World's Fighting Ships talking about Szczyt's secondary battery and where you could add a balloon mooring mast."

"Delightful," the steward said.  "You should try to eat something, sir, it's a full itinerary again today."

"I know.  Our turn to do the hosting.  At least it'll be alcohol I'm used to..."

[Desertfox]

Thats some good stuff!

[The Rock Doctor]

18 April 1922

"Oriona reports multiple small craft approaching on the starboard bow," a signalman called out.

"That would be our welcoming committee," Szermierz's XO noted.  "Advise the squadron to watch out for other formations on other bearings.  They may look to practice an attack on us while they have the opportunity."

Komandor Jurgenson nodded.  There probably wasn't much else for the Aztec garrison at Wake to do.  An intercept against a large and powerful foreign warship would likely be the highlight of their month. 

"Warta confirms two, possibly three torpedo-craft on the port bow," another signalman reported a minute later.

"Orders, sir?" the XO asked.

"The Aztecs are expecting us, so no need to alter course or speed," Jurgenson replied, "But have the secondary battery track their progress.  Make very clear they are only tracking.  I don't even want shells loaded."

"Aye, Komandor."


*****


"The locals invited me to use the channel and enter the lagoon, offered a pilot and a chart, but my insurance company was crystal clear before I left:  The channel's not on their charts, and I'm not covered if I enter a feature what isn't on their charts.  This'll have to do," said the captain of the Wesola Gertruda as the civilian oiler rested at anchor a mile east of Wake.

"Are you sure about this?  That depot ship of theirs has to be twice the displacement of your ship," Komandor Braun said.  "If they can get her into the lagoon, it must be safe for you."

"I'm not taking chances here, Komandor.  Be glad you managed to get us way the hell out here to begin with," the civilian said. 

"Oiling's going to be a lot more complicated out here, even if we are on the lee side of the atoll," Braun noted. 

"Doesn't have to be," the civilian shrugged.  "You got four ships there, right?"

"Seven total.  The two depot ships and a destroyer are a couple days behind us."

"Fine, you got seven.  I got three thousand tonnes of bunker fuel.  How're you dividing it up?"

Braun pursed his lips.  "I'll need a few minutes to work that out.  Can you refuel one ship or two?"

"Two," the captain said.  "Ideally with a size difference.  We'll put the larger ship on the leeside of Wesola Gertruda to minimize weather-vaning..."


*****


"Dismal little place," Prince Gustav remarked as his staff prepared him for the trip ashore.  "Imagine living here permanently!  No opera.  No skiing.  No bistro, I'd venture.  Utterly uninhabitable."

"Come now, Your Highness, your postings in North Erica were not much different," his major-domo replied, burnishing the gold buttons on Gustav's left wrist. 

"True," the prince allowed.  "But that was a military posting."

"I believe this is a military posting, Your Highness."

"Eh.  I suppose so.  Still..."

"If it makes you better, My Lord, I happen to know that the King of Denmark was exiled to a much smaller island in 1799.  Uto, it's called," said the tailor, Coen.  "Not even half a square mile, up in the Archipelago Sea."

"Right, it was my own great-great-great-grandfather who exiled him there," Gustav said.

"That's right, My Lord."

"Well, served him right," the prince shrugged.  "Very good, thank you, I fell I'm ready to meet the local governor, inspect some little fighting boats, and walk through a cannery."


*****


"I mean it's nice to get a little walk in, but this place is just about the most boring spot I've ever been on," Marynarz Pilsudski observed as he and Marynarz Nilsson plodded along the crushed coral road running along the perimeter of Wake. 

"Ain't seen anywhere to get trouble at all," Nilsson sighed, waving his pipe at the fish processing plant and other buildings ahead of them. 

"Flip side is if we don't get in trouble, we shouldn't have any issue getting shore leave in Hawaii.  We can probably find trouble there.  Supposed to be a lot more going on there," Pilsudski said.

"That's another week away.  Maybe more.  You think the skipper's going to hold a grudge that long?"

"Hell yes he will," Pilsudski said.  "Pretty sure he don't want us tradin' jobs with Moravska, and can ya blame him?  Who wants to shepherd around a couple of depot ships?"

"Hey, is that a girl over there?"

"No girls here.  Why would there be girls here?" Pilsudski asked.

Nilsson pointed off toward the outer shore, where two figures stood in front of...an easel?  One did appear to be a local female, in uniform.  The other was clearly a visiting Union enlisted man.  "There.  See?  What d'ya think is going on?"

Pilsudski shrugged.  "Fine, you're right.  Kinda hard to tell from here, but I think maybe he's painting boobies."

Nilsson snickered.

"It's a kind of seabird, Lars," Pilsudski sighed.  "How is that even remotely humorous?"

Nilsson chortled, "Clearly you don't speak English, Nikola."

"Nobody speaks English, Lars, that isn't a real language," Pilsudski replied.  "Are you okay?  Have you got heatstroke?"


*****


"They're nice sooty terns," Marynarz Weiss mused as he sketched the bird's breast feathers with a pencil.

The local woman nodded without apparent comprehension.  Fair enough.  The odds of a non-Union woman from North Erica speaking Polish were undoubtedly quite low, and he certainly didn't speak Aztec or whatever they did speak there.  She did, however, seem interested in his artwork.  Maybe she was an artist too.  Or an ornithologist.  Although the badge on her epaulet definitely looked like a torpedo rather than a seabird.

"Not showy birds, but well suited to pencil sketches.  No color lost on a black and white bird," he murmured. 

She pointed to the easel, gestured widely around the outer curve of the breast, then pointed to a bird perched on a coral boulder.  He didn't understand a single syllable of what she then said, but now that he was looking at the tern, maybe he needed to make the breast fuller than what he'd drawn. 

He flipped the pencil about, gently erased the edge of the white, upper breast, then lightly traced a new, slightly wider curve from the neck down, past the upper breast, and parallel to the dark, lower breast before bringing the curve back to meet the tailfeathers.  He shaded in the narrow gap between the line and the lower breast and cocked an eye at the woman.

She tilted her head, looked back at the tern on the boulder, and nodded.

"Alright," Weiss said.  "Better."

[Desertfox]

That sir, is some top notch writing!

What do the Norse speak?

[TacCovert4]

Absolutely top notch writing.  And imagine, Wake Atoll is getting further improved as a base.  The Crown Prince would really hate it then.  And good thing Sojourner was there, sounds like the civilian oilers only have about a third of her capacity.

[The Rock Doctor]

That sir, is some top notch writing!

What do the Norse speak?

Some messy hybrid of Icelandic and Norwegian with a Scottish accent, maybe.

[TacCovert4]

18th April, 1922

"Well sir, it seems the Vilnius admiral is taking advantage of that chance to give his men shore leave." the watch officer says to Commander Izel, Captain of His Majesty's Auxiliary Ship Sojourner.  First of her class, indeed her type, in the Royal Aztec Navy.  "Good time for the lower decks to stretch their legs at least, though Wake is not known for anything beyond fishing and boredom" the captain replies, reading over reports from his men on the state of the constant fueling operation ongoing port and starboard, as well as the pipeline run off his stern to Wake's own fuel bunkers, turning his ship into a second refueling pier at the small naval base. 

"Sir, the galley called and asked if they need to prepare something special for dinner." is said, interrupting his intensive reading again.  "No, I don't think anything extravagant.  I've got indications that the Prince won't be leaving his ship at this stop, not that I blame him in particular.  Prepare a double portion for the Officer's Mess and the Chief's Mess and invite who wants to attend from the fleet.  As many questions as some officers had about Sojourner I'm sure we'll have one or two show up"  Commander Izel says, going back to his important, if terribly boring, work.