Showing posts with label Nano-fic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nano-fic. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Intra-Fleet Tug WIP

     Got some work our the ole' GIMP last night, and the beginnings of our Intra-Fleet Tug can be seen.  Let me assure all of you who have practice designing spacecraft: This is not remotely an optimized design.  This is a Frankenstein rocket, built out of available components for a unique purpose that became a de facto design more or less by default.  The story behind this craft's inception is part of the story of the Conjunction War, and by exploring its design, we will learn more about the fateful last voyage of the Mekong and the Jovian Blockade.
     Interested?


Friday, August 26, 2016

Memes and Ma'at, and Magical Thinking, Part I

     As an assurance to all who are waiting patiently, The 026 Deck of the Starphin-class Frigate will post this weekend.


  Once again, RocektFans, I am succumbing to the siren call of Trans-sophont world-building and thinking about the universe from my
Stargosy series of stories.  The trigger this time was discovering my nano-fic O'Neil Cylindehad been included on the Atomic Rockets website.  So I re-read it, and then had to re-read all the other ones because I really like my stories and will read them over and over again.     Part of the process of getting back into that universe's frame of mind has been exploring the reasons that adding Egyptian mythological elements felt so right. It's not just that Egyptian mythology was badass and cool, I kept finding parallels between life on the River Nile and life inside a space habitat.  And of course, the Khemetic divisions of the soul were quite useful...
     But a lot of what follows is influenced by the (insert neutral adjective or noun here) that is the 2016 election cycle - specifically the antics of Donald Trump.  Trump is an excellent example of the emergence of what is being called the post-fact society.  The disconnection between the veracity of  a statement and the amount of time, discussion, and respect the statement gains has possibly been wider - I just have no idea when, exactly. We live in a time when the Presidential nominee of the party of Lincoln was able to garner widespread support by making untrue statements that his supporters know to be untrue.
     Why?  Because memes.  I'll explain.
     Memetics has been much on my mind recently, both because of the election coverage and because of my former academic work in biology, microbiology, and the emergency medical protocols for disease outbreaks.  For those rare few reading this that only know of  memes as witticisms added to photos of cats or the Minions, a meme is an idea that spreads like genes in a life-form or a virus.  Ideas are infectious, contagious, and capable of spreading along the same vectors as biological pathogens.  This is why you used to see Hari Krishnas in airports; like the flu, fringe ideology spreads more easily to tired travelers with weakened immune systems.
    What does this have to do with post-fact society?  It's really quite simple: facts are also memes.   Now, part of the paradigm shift in our culture as the internet went from PC, to laptop, to tablet to phone, as that mass exposure has come to dominate and supersede all other vectors for meme transmission.  And the communicability of a meme has nothing to do with its factual content - often, it seems, facts are at a distinct disadvantage compared to other memes.  Facts just aren't catchy.  In the world of the Internet, a meme seems to be most communicable when seen on Facebook in a single image with some words, like the aforementioned Minions, In a world where the problems facing us are increasingly complex and difficult to resolve, the facts are presented as they've always been, in papers published in academic journals presented by people who have a hard time being understood It's as if the rhetoric of factual discourse and the comprehension of the meme-infected population are presenting a language barrier.   Compared to scientists that often leave the public cold, the simple, easy meme is far more appealing - and contagious.  Build a wall. Leave the EU, Drill, baby drill.
They'll like you, anyway...
        Those among us who are into hard SF, or hard science, or science in general, are predisposed to give weight to memes that have basis in fact.  I cannot speak for everyone, but the reason I like Hard SF is that the more the factual the "sciencey" parts are, the easier it is for me to suspend disbelief.  So, I look favorably on factual memes.  But if I try to communicate this to people I know who are not as enamored of fact as I am, I can usually see the point where they turn off and stop listening.  Or perhaps worse, stop listening because they think they know what I'm talking about, when they so obviously don't.
     And worst of all, my wife catches me doing the same thing from time to time.
     The point of all this is not that I'm getting sick of seeing facts be treated like opinions by people who can no longer tell the difference.   Nor is it how I'm becoming more and more convinced that we who respect facts on their own merits are going to lose the memetic war as long as we continue to treat it as a conflict between fact and fiction, instead of a conflict between opposing memes.
     If we evolve into a post-fact society, how the hell will we survive living in space?
     One can handily ignore that question by simply pointing out the depressing likelihood that we will not live in space, not in any significant numbers. That's a story for another post; what I'm interested in is how the decedents our Internet culture will handle living in such an unforgiving environment, and how they'll raise kids out there.  That's a big one - how do you pass on the essential knowledge any person needs to survive in a hostile environment to kids that even read yet, much less understand the ins-and-out of CELSS, pressure differentials, radiation levels and breathing mixes?  I propose we will educate these future toddlers the same way we as humans always have, the way Bedoins, Nomads of the Gobi, the Inuit, and the suburban tribes of WASPs teach their children even now.
    We'll lie to them.
    Now, when I say "lie" I am thinking along the lines of what the late Sir Terry Pratchett, with help of Jack Cohen and Ian Stewart, refereed to as " lies to children", the simplified explanation of complex subjects.  As memes go, these no-quite-facts are among the most enduring and resilient.  For example, I know that the Vikings established settlements in New Foundland and further south, because the archaeological evidence is there and I believe facts. That being said, I can still hear the old rhyme, "In fourteen hundred ninety-two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue." in my head when ever the european age of exploration is mentioned.  Most people imagine atoms as having at least some passing similarity in style and substance to the atomic symbols we've all grown up with since the late Forties even though such a model is wrong in every particular.
But it's usefully wrong!
   These lies to children are only some of the most recent, ones we can still see the effects of today.  Another branch of meme that would qualify as a simplistic explanation to a complex concept is that branch of explanatory mythology.  The idea that the myth of the Minotaur, who lived in a labyrinth under the palace of Knossos caused all the earthquakes in the area, is an example.
     I mention this because, for some reason, we often seem to assume in science fiction that we as a species will leave religion behind when we move into space.  Part of this, I believe, is practical - if you don't mention religion, you won't piss off religious people as badly - and part of this is surely the growing secularization of cultures in the industrialized world.  But religions, and the myths, parables and revelations they are founded upon, evolved for a reason.  Any of you who have children have probably noticed that explaining to them why doing something is insanely dangerous does not necessarily convince them to avoid doing said thing.  In fact, at certain developmental ages, it almost guarantees the little...darlings will try to do that very thing.  Sometimes, the only way to actually get a kid to avoid doing something dangerous is to, well, put the fear of God into them.
     In space, there are a lot of insanely dangerous things you can do...

     In Part II of this post, we'll discuss how the society of the Third Gleise Monarchy came to adopt the Gods of Khemet as their mythological framework, why they did so, and how cool I think it is.  For now, however, I've gotta go draw some deckplans...
       

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

A Gentleman’s Errand

    “I still can’t believe that is a computer.”
    This was from Ipa Sam, engineer of the The Gentleman Scoundrel, a tramp plying the so-called trade on the frontier.  That, was specifically a suitcase-sized appliance sitting on the mess table of the Scoundrel’s crew lounge.  That such a thing could carry useful electronics through a wormhole and have them work on the other side was only credible to Sam because she herself had seen it.
  “This thing is amazing!”  This was Ruku Mat, Navigator.  Her normally shy and retiring demeanor was for the moment gone. Her purplish skin looked even more vivid in the blue glow from the strange computer’s screen.  “Its easily twice as powerful as our entire mainframe!”
    Also at the table was pilot and fist mate, Zag Esseru.  She smirked at the diminutive Ruku as a ripple went through her head-quills. “Facinating, uh huh.”  Bet you’ve seen faster and smaller, Kura.  Right?” This was at the ship’s steward.  Canto Kura, being from one of the Nexus systems of the Janoi, was the only one who had recognized the computer for what it was.
    “To be fair,” Kura said as he distributed the sacrament of coffee to the three officers, “It’s the smallest I’ve seen that can travel on a ship with NegMat drives.”
   How small can a computer really get though?” asked Ruku Mat.
  “Ah!  Have a look.”  Canto sat at the table and, with a little flourish, produced what was, to all apperences, a ballpoint pen.
   “Is this the one where you do math on a napkin and say it’s an analog computer?” Zag frowned.  “Because if so, I’ve heard it.”
    “No, no: Observe.”  Kura held the thin cylinder in one hand and with the other picked at the side of his pen.  A thin stave came off of the side and, as he pulled, a opalescent membrane of translucent material could be seen, like the sheet of a scroll.  The membrane caught the light strangely, showing a honeycomb of silvery threads embedded within.
    “I forgot I had my QIL in my pocket when I first shipped off Gleise.  It had my whole life on it.  Photos, video, songs and movies, books - everything. And this is a cheap model.  My last nanobiotics booster has more processing power than this entire ship.”
    “Bullshit.” Zag offered.
    “I won’t believe that was a computer.”
    “Canto,” Ruku Mat looked hurt.  “You didn’t have to make something up.”

    Kura knitted his brow and sighed. “That’s what everyone says.”

Friday, May 20, 2016

Part Two out Today!

Buy here!
   We just released A Gentleman's Agreement, part two of our Gentleman Abroad series!  It's nearly twice as long as the first installment (which surprised me) but still just $2.99, and free on Kindle Unlimited.  $5.00 Patreons will be getting free copies, of course, but because of the Kindle Unlimited contract, they'll have to wait until August when the exclusivity agreement expires.  For those of you who saw that the first installment, The Gentleman Scoundrel, was removed from sale on RPGNow.com, that's why.

Anyway, now story!  Enjoy!

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Guess Who's on Kindle Now!

Get your today!
That's right, RocketFans, The Gentleman Scoundrel, our first serial nano-fic story, is now available on Amazon Kindle for free with Kindle Unlimited! The kindle book copy is revised and expanded, correcting many of the issues and smoothing out the choppy bits and breaks that are unavoidable in serial nano-fic.

 If you get a copy, please leave a review.
I'm so excited!

Also, to all those other burgeoning writers out there:  I made this cover myself.  If you like what you see, I am available for commissions.  Contact me at bluemaxstudios@yahoo.com

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

A-to-Z Blog Challenge: P is for Privateer

Privateers

    The Starfigher Division was something of an experiement.
    Four of Hatawe Ahn’s corvettes sailed through contested space on the grand arc between the leading and trailing StarGates in the border system of Almani Territories.  Three Marauders, Tempest, Prospero, and Ariel, each fully loaded with a half dozen Cerberus fighters and a six Destriers, formed a triangular plane in space perpendicular to their vector.  The fourth Marauder, Caliban, sailed behind the plane at the apex.  Caliban was different.  It carried only four Destriers for defense.  Instead of mounting six high powered lasers, it only carried two in the bow, flanking the forward cabin.  The lateral hardpoints were carried a pair of twin-barreled point defense railguns.  The reinforced spine, which on carrier was stuffed with capacitors for the lasers, housed a single long-shaft railgun suitable for ship-to-ship combat.
   They were hunting.
   “Time to convoy forty minutes for outer envelope, forty-nine minutes to launch.”
   Captain 6Djoser Morga acknowledged the report.  From the CIC on Caliban, Djoser had could observe, after time-lag, the movements of AdStars logistical fleet.  One hundred and thirty-one colliers and dromedaries moved between StarGates on a reciprocal course to Djoser’s stargosy of privateers.  6Djoser’s orders from Command were deliberately vague - capture what he could, destroy as much of the rest as possible.  Prospero, at the acme point of the forward plane of battle, was carrying a platoon’s worth of Espatier Ahks in oversized network servers, ready to download into their Ammit-class automatons loaded on the Starfighter’s six Cerberus HACVs.
    They were also something of an experiment.
    “Thirty-two minutes to outer envelope.”
    The convoy was either defended or dead in space.  With literally millions of kilometers between the freighters and any safe port of call, scattering was not an option.  The only point of clumping so many thousands of tons of shipping into such a small space on a predictable vector would be to place them under the umbrella of protection their escorts could offer.  Depending on the value of the cargo, the defending spacecraft could be a couple of corvettes weaker than Caliban, up to a division of destroyers or even more.   Djoser was by no means an optimist - at least, not beyond what one needed to go into space in the first place.  He assumed at any moment, Caliban’s CIC would erupt with reports of thermal flairs indicating an opposing flotilla.
    “Twenty-six minutes.”
   Djoser gave orders to download Ahks to all fighters and automatons.  Across space, sphont and machine interfaced, become those temporary. mongrel creatures of war.  The quartet of spacecraft entered their final boosting phase, and observed no change in his prey.
   “Eighteen minutes.”
   It was a trap.  In had to be. Something would happen when the two clumps of metal and meat collided.  The Stellar Administration was as ruthless and brutal as any polity in space.  They would surely have found out about 3Gleise’s negotiations with the  Almani.  They surely wouldn’t think to send an undefended convoy through space where the government-in-exile could reach.  Something was going to happen - Djoser was convinced.  But because he couldn’t know what was in store, he kept his ships steady on.  Besides, he was damned if AdStar was going to frighten him away.
   “Outer envelope.  Nine minutes to launch.”
Djoser composed himself for battle. “Fire the main gun.  On target.”
 Lacking multiple ship killing guns, Djoser couldn’t very well bracket the formation ahead of them.  He was half-convinced that the fools wouldn't change vector to dodge anyway.
   “Four minutes to contact, eight minutes to launch.”
 Djoser had four minutes to wait, and another four after to decide the course of the battle.  It was always like this -always had been, for sophonts in space. Hours or days of waiting, and a handful of seconds for action.  He thought a command to calculate multiple tactical maneuvers and counter attacks against a variety of responses.  All at this point were equally likely.  He consciously ignored them even has his augmented mind furiously collated data.
    “One minute to contact, five minutes to launch.”
  Djoser became still and calm.  All that could be done had been, all that could be planned for was.  He was serene in the last seconds, where his crew could see.
   “Contact!  Targets one through five eliminated.  Four minutes to launch. Targets six through ten eliminated.”
    “M-Com, all Flights, target kinetics, Caliban attack one, vectors and velocity to follow.”  Djoser signaled his INCO to send the relevant data.  Across the formation, lasers turned and fired on Caliban’s railgun slugs.  No matter their monstrous speed, the coherent light easily overtook them and either vaporized the tungsten rods or pushed them out onto terminal vectors.
    “Targets fifteen to twenty eliminated.  Targets twenty-two, twenty-six, and twenty-seven eliminated.  Launch window.”
    “Launch half the Ceberus wing.  Keep the remainder on the kinetics. I want eyes on the eliminated targets soonest.”
    “HC-01 and -02, in range two minutes.”
   There had still been no counter attack, no move to defend or evade.  Djoser felt the dread he had been fighting grow ever more powerful as the possible reasons dwindled to a few, each worst than the las.
   “HC-01, M-COM.  IN RANGE TARGETS ONE ONE, ONE FOUR, ONE EIGHT, AND TWO SIX.”
 Djoser had to swallow before he could talk. “Report.”
   “HULLS DESTROYED.  PASSENGER COMPARTMENTS VENTED TO SPACE.  PASSENGERS IN OPEN SPACE.”
    “Passengers?  HC-01, is there any cargo?”
    “NEGATIVE, M-COM.  PASSENGERS ONLY.  ATTEMPTING TO ESTABLISH HYPERBAND UPLINK”
    “Time until upload is complete?”
    “UPLOAD EST 01:22:31 +/- 02:00.”
    “All units, begin rescue operations.”  Djoser tried and failed to keep the tremor out of his voice.  
    “All units acknowledged,” His INCO responded.  “All lasers now on hyperband recovery.  Cross vectors in thirty seconds.”

    And that was when the convoy’s hidden warships attacked.   

A-toZ Blog Challenge: O is for O'Neill Cylinder

O'Neill Cylinder

    The Ahk designated as FT-0101 was an Espatier.  It’s Ka was the pruned fork of Sergeant 5Djeffries Muh.  It’s Ba was a mechanical monster.
    The interior of the vast O’Neill cylinder that was now part of 3Gleise’s territory was patrolled by Cerberus fighters modified for use as squad transports.  Eight hulking brutes, clipped to the exterior of each war rocket, were launched from the destroyers escorting the space station to secure the inside.  It had taken days to go through the vast habitat, comparment by compartment, capturing and removing the thousands of workers found within.  Most were Gleise citizens, now repatriated.  The remainder, AdStar overseers, were captured and sent for interrogation.
    FT-0101 lead the first squad of the first platoon of DesCon 3’s Expiditionary Force.  It had been online for eight-seven hours now, leading its squad in what was essentially a massive boarding action.  It was the certainly the right Ahk or the job.  FT-0101 had faught on planets, with and without atmosphere, asteroids, moons, and habitats of all sizes.  It had faught on starships ranging from corvettes to to titanic battlers. It was the best of the best.
    It had never seen anything like this before.
    “UNKNOWN TERRAIN.  DATA UPLINK ACTIVE.”
    “Roger that, FT-0101.  Get video on all frequencies.”  
    The Espatier Ahk began recording what it saw, in thermal, visible, ultraviolet and x-ray.  The O’Neill was small, as these things go; only eight kilometers long with a radius of a thousand meters.  Despite this, the interior cavity should have been at least five hundred meters wide.  Espatiers on the ground recorded an internal space only two hundred meters wide, divided into compartments every half kilometer.
    “This is downright claustrophobic.”
    “ROGER THAT.  OBSERVE.”
    FT-0101 focused on an area of the interior skin that hadn’t been completed.  A vast cenote in the artificial ground gaped open, exposing layers upon layers of water bags and aerogel bricks under the surface.  Through the middle of the hole was a what looked like a tall ridge made of carbon that was spun in long ropes of self-supporting latticework.
    “It looks almost like buttressing.”
   FT-0101 continued moving forward.  There was no soil on the decking - just layers of woven carbon fiber plates.  Here and there were other Espatiers examining the odd modifiactions to the habitat.  The central hub, for example, was ribbed by additional buttressing that curved outward toward the compartmenting wall dividing the entire open space of the cylinder a few hundred meters ahead.  The curving buttresses from the column gradually arched over the dividing wall to meet the even larger and wider ridges in the rimward walls.
   “STURCTURAL DESIGN UNUSUAL.”
   “That’s one way of putting it.  Looks familiar, though.  Keep panning around, please.”
   FT-0101 anchored its bulk to the deck and began rotating its main cameras around a hundred and eighty degrees, missing nothing.  There were veins of raised tubing standing out upon the partition like spiderwebs of renforcement.  The curving arches made a graceful symmetry.
   “Wait a moment!  Right there!”
   FT-0101 froze, as only a robotic Ba could.
  “Oh, oh Netjer.  I know what this is!
  “ELABORATE.”
  “Those dividing walls, they’re rib vaults.”
  “ELABORATE.”
  “They’re oriented to support the cylinder’s mass along the long axis. Against accelleration.”
  “ELABORATE.”
  “The outer walls are filled with enough insulation to absorb a full laser barrage.”
  “UNDERSTOOD.” This was the closest FT-0101 ever got to an exclamation. “THIS IS NOT A HABITAT CYLINDER.”
  “Not anymore.  Its a capital ship.”  

Monday, April 18, 2016

A-to-Z Blog Challenge: N is for Nemyss

This is a nemyss.  Now you know.
Nemyss

    “Well, this was unexpected.”
    Commodore-cum-Second StarLord 2Hilna Lin found had been told the Prime Minister was in the stellarium with her former right-hand wo/man, Naval Chief 4Charl Itawa.  Therefore, Hilna expected to see the pair, and to see stars and perhaps a view of Elsinore’s factory system.  
    What she did not expect was to be inside a living wall of hieroglyphic text.
    Every surface save that of the transparent roof of the compartment was covered with column after column of pictograms, interrupted by the occasional image of a deity from Khemet’s pantheon.  Hilna could recognize Geb, the Lord of Planets, prone upon the deck, and Nut, Mother Space, arched over Him.  Where the two touched, fingertips and toes, there were graven images of habitats and starships.  Sobek, the Crocodile, grinned menacingly from under his StarGate crest, warning Hilna never to take the transit between stars for granted.
    But in the most august position, in the center of the stellarium, where Nut and Geb, Heaven and Earth, would meet to spawn the Universe, was Ma’at.
    And at the foot of Ma’at, Prime 3Vonday Ginal floated in prayer.
    At his right, Charl put hir finger to hir lips and motioned Hilna over. The StarLord kicked off the floor and coasted gently toward the pair.  As she approached she could make out better the details of the two from surrounding images.  Vonday, she noticed, wore the traditional leopard pattern nemyss.
    “Welcome back, Hilna.”  Vonday said.  “Looks like you caught me.”
    “You’re a Hema’at?” She said.
    “Not what you expected from a diplomat, is it?  I’m surprised myself sometimes.”
    “It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Charl smiled and reached out a hand to steady Hilna. “It’s bad enough for him to be my boss, but now he can make me feel guilty for not saying the 42 Laws before bed every night.”
    Hilna gave Charl a wry look. “What are you worried about?  Herms are sacred.”
    “Only the natural ones, Lin.”
    “I never agreed with that interpretation.” Vonday said.  “But that’s a debate for after the war. I tend to be long-winded on points canon law.  To business.”  
    “Much as I’m loath to admit it, Morale has improved quite a bit since the...relaxation of certain regulations.”  Hilna pulled her tablet from her pocket and thought the relevant stats onto the screen, where they would be easier to read in the light of the hieroglyphs.
    “Performance has improved by eight percent, and incidence of disciplinary problems has dropped by forty.  There have been five charges of sexual assault...which is down by half from one cycle prior.”
    “Having to rewrite only five out of three thousand is definitely an improvement.” Charl said.
    “Don’t rub it in.”
    “Relax, Lord Hilna,” Vonday smiled, “I understand the difficulty in trying unorthodox solutions.”
    “As you say, Hema’at.” Hilna cocked her head and smiled sardonically. “Did you think about requiring the 42 Laws be spoken by all hands, even once?”
    “You’re thinking of my father.  I’ve been focused on the Virtues of the Husia. ‘I will be free from resentment under the experience of persecution, I will be free from resentment under the experience of wrongdoing’.”
     Hilna’s smile became more genuine. “That’s good advice.”
    “I’ve also been reading the Ritual for the Opening of the Mouth.”
   The three were quiet for a moment, as anyone would be.
    “The coronation ritual?” Hilna asked, after clearing her throat.
    “The only way to incarnate a legitimate fork of the King is to perform the Opening of the Mouth during the download.  And it must be performed by a Hema’at.”
    “Prime had a hunch,” Charl spoke up. “It turns out that the last eight diplomatic envoys sent out from Throne had Hema’atau either in the diplomatic party or as the Ambassador.”
    Hilna frowned. “That seems excessive, sure, but you can’t think that the King actually planned for-”
    “Hilna, all of us are here in this system, with these ships, because the King wanted us to be.” Vonday said.  “The Pharaoh is the serial Ahk of twelve generations of the most intelligent and enhanced sophonts our civilization could produce. I’d be surprised if He left anything unplanned.” 
    There was silence once more.
   “We seemed to have gotten far afield,” Vonday clapped his hands.  “What news of your tour with the Third Division?”
  Hilna assumed an official demeanor.  “I'm pleased to report3Div was successul in capturing an enemy asset during our privateer raid in the Heru system.”
    “Excellent!  What’s the booty?”
    Hilna remained perfectly still. “One O’Neil cylinder, seventy percent complete, with transit booster.  We got it back to Jourdain yesterday.”
   Charl’s face lit up. “Oh, thank you, Lin!  I’ve been dying to see that look of shock on his face for a change!”
     

Saturday, April 16, 2016

A-to-Z Blog Challenge: M is for Morale

Morale
    
OPORD 310325-001  NAVCHIEF AUTH 1178

To: ALLCOMs ALLFLIGHTs
    DESCON III
    DESCON V
    DESCON VI

1.SITREP - MORALE ALL UNITS
a. It has come to the attention of this office that morale among the crews of all of ships has degraded significantly over the months of our exile.  
b.While this is understandable, reports and complaints about behavior both on and off duty have reach a frequency and severity that makes addressing the issue a priority.
c.To that end, the surveys, performance evaluatutions, and observations made command and this office have identified the following causes of our current morale crises:
  • Knowledge that our homeworlds are occupied:   This is the most obvious cause of low morale, the simple fact we can’t go home again.  Solving this problem is the the grand strategy of the current war.
  • Loss of contact with kith, kin, and ka:  The fact that many of us forked copies to serve in the military while staying at home has not kept us from that bane of long patrols, homesickness.  While we cannot remerge with ourselves left behind, It may be possible to initiate covert communications at a later date.
  • Lack of shore facilites  and recreational spaces: Destroyers are simply not designed for patrols of the length we’ve been enduring.  The fact that the only places off ship available are factory webs and the modest spaces aboard Varangian simply highlights to all concerned that there is nowhere to go.
d. Having identified these points as primary causes of our worsening morale, Command and this Office have developed several action plans and directives: see below.

2. MISSION - MORALE/PERFORMANCE IMPROVEMENTS
All personnel - from the Prime to the newest recruit - are identified as needing a morale boost. The following directives are aimed at improving morale both on patrol and at base.   These are to go into effect immediately.  The directives are detailed below:

3. DIRECTIVES
a. Three new starships are to be commissioned from the recent lend/lease acquisitions.  These are to be designated Destroyer Tenders and one each attached to the Destroyer Constellations in the fleet.
b. Crew from the destroyers are to be rotated into service aboard the tenders.  In addition to serving as crew on these tenders, crew will be assigned for additional cross-training in all specialities and as instructors in cross-training.
c. Prime has authorized the hiring of private sutler services to be stationed aboard the tenders to provide amenities and recreational services for destroyer crews on patrol.
d. Prime has authorized the hiring of sutler services to be stationed on base at Elsinore Cavalier HQ to provide amenities and recreational services for all personnel.
e. Crews from Destroyer Command will begin rotating aboard Varangian for cruiser training.  It is our intention to add combat cruisers to our fleet within the year.
f.  WHILE ON AUTHORIZED LEAVE ONLY, Fraternization will be condoned among all personnel of equal rank among shipmates.  Personnel who are serving aboard different ships may fraternize across rank WHILE ON AUTHORIZED LEAVE ONLY.
g. Intelligence resources will formulate an action plan for establishing contact with the homeworlds for purposes of determining what, if any, resistance is being mounted against AdStar occupation at this time.  Secondary to this is the goal of initiating some communication with loved ones behind the lines.  Just by letting our citizens in occupied territory know there are elements out here and fighting will surely boost their morale.

4. EXECUTION - SEE ATTACHED FILES

*PERSONAL ADDENDUM NAVCHIEF:
“It’s a new world out here, Officers and gentles.  It wouldn’t surprise me if our next constitution is based on Ship’s Articles from Gleise’s pirate days.  I know a lot of my fellow War College grads started frothing at the mouth halfway through section three.  Just remember one thing:
Prime’s plans are working.

-4Char Itawa, Captain, acting Naval Chief of Staff to the Prime Minister


     
    
Google+