GDS Planète
Long Sea
Acting Commander Reinhardt watched through his binoculars at the horizon. GDS Planete and GDS Pomme were little more than glorified fishing vessels which were adapted to minesweeping. A bead of sweat ran from his receding hairline and trickled down his nose. The sea was unusually calm but the area was unusually hot for May. The Planete's bridge fans had stopped working as the Planete dipped its nose foward at a steady and pathetic 12 knots. About a half mile astern lay GDS Pomme. Reinhardt, the son of a Burgundian mother and Eiffellandian father, was increasingly annoyed at his mission. While the ship was fitted with sonar, it was defenseless to attack by any vessel short of a rowboat with a pistol. He sighed as his binoculars swung around again. Reinhardt saw himself on a fools errand. The might of the Burgundian Navy mostly lay in port or on senseless patrols, far away from the Long Sea. His binoculars came down as he sipped his coffee. He left the bridge with its two men on watch plus the helmsman and made his way to the deck. They gray paint was faded and chipped but the vessel had almost no rust to her. Reinhardt looked intently at his crew who were beginning to engage in routine tasks to stay busy. He assumed Lieutenant Blanciar on the Pomme had his crew doing similar things. A midshipman approached and urged him onto the bridge. Reinhardt was assuming a message was coming in from the Pomme which had exhibited engine problems before setting sail. Instead a crewman in engineer's coveralls pointed with an extended arm. Reinhardt brought his binoculars to his eyes and grimaced before turning to the helmsman to cut speed to half and called down the hatchway to the radio room to inform the Pomme to do the same.
Long Sea
Acting Commander Reinhardt watched through his binoculars at the horizon. GDS Planete and GDS Pomme were little more than glorified fishing vessels which were adapted to minesweeping. A bead of sweat ran from his receding hairline and trickled down his nose. The sea was unusually calm but the area was unusually hot for May. The Planete's bridge fans had stopped working as the Planete dipped its nose foward at a steady and pathetic 12 knots. About a half mile astern lay GDS Pomme. Reinhardt, the son of a Burgundian mother and Eiffellandian father, was increasingly annoyed at his mission. While the ship was fitted with sonar, it was defenseless to attack by any vessel short of a rowboat with a pistol. He sighed as his binoculars swung around again. Reinhardt saw himself on a fools errand. The might of the Burgundian Navy mostly lay in port or on senseless patrols, far away from the Long Sea. His binoculars came down as he sipped his coffee. He left the bridge with its two men on watch plus the helmsman and made his way to the deck. They gray paint was faded and chipped but the vessel had almost no rust to her. Reinhardt looked intently at his crew who were beginning to engage in routine tasks to stay busy. He assumed Lieutenant Blanciar on the Pomme had his crew doing similar things. A midshipman approached and urged him onto the bridge. Reinhardt was assuming a message was coming in from the Pomme which had exhibited engine problems before setting sail. Instead a crewman in engineer's coveralls pointed with an extended arm. Reinhardt brought his binoculars to his eyes and grimaced before turning to the helmsman to cut speed to half and called down the hatchway to the radio room to inform the Pomme to do the same.