The Federation
Established Nation
The morning fog was intense as the aircraft carrier Dál Riata cut through the water, a squadron of destroyers and cruisers on either side of her. Not even the tall island of the carrier could pierce the top of the fog. The flight deck was quiet as she sailed toward Caorachstyr Island for joint exercises with the Warreic fleet. Everyone knew what it was meant for, the presence of two Batavian destroyers near Warreic territory required a large boisterous response from the Celtic peoples, it was their way of doing things. The sound of the waves and noisy diesel engines could be faintly heard from the bowels of the ship in the quiet command bridge, coupled with the sound of quiet conversation over the RADAR scope built a particular ambience as Captain Scott Kerr looked out the window directly into the fog. He had dreamed of a day where he wouldn’t simply be patrolling a sea directly outside of Bantyr but out there in international waters where anything could happen. He though that day had come when he had enough seniority to take command of the Dál Riata, but it wasn’t until now that he had found the feeling he was looking for. Ships had been detected to the south but a quick radio call determined to be Warreic Navy most likely on their way to Caorachstyr Island as well.
The carrier group took the long route north to avoid trouble with the Batavian and Serenierrian Navies. This netted the crews of the ships a days stay in a smaller Bantyric Naval port where while they re-supplied the men sampled the alcohol and the women. The departure north into a well traveled sea lane used by Warreic and Bantyric shipping companies caused a spectacle to be seen as fishing ships and ships full of shipping containers followed them periodically blowing their horns in triumph and pride as their fleet sailed the cold waters of the north. Moral had been boosted several times as they sailed through the northern Warreic Islands as waving Warreic people could be seen on the shores they passed nearby. The escort of random civilian ships grew and shrank several times during the course of the few days it took to sail around the eastern Warreic mainland. But now in the present they were gone, no more waving people, no more triumphant whistle blasts. Only the hard cold and heavy fog greeted them now.
The fog broke to overcast skies, the blue gray seas slapping against the side of the ship. To the south the Caorachstyr Islands could be seen as well as a few other Warreic ships in the area. Kerr took a few glances through his binoculars; an attack sub was visible a few miles in front of the Dál Riata, its design was common in the Bantyric and Warreic navies. A few flashes from the periscope confirmed it to be the BRN Morrigan. Bantyric subs had been picketing for the fleet, watching for underwater threats. Radio silence was the way Kerr liked it and he was lucky to convince the Rear Admiral to put it into effect, obviously a fleet this size would be easily detectable in any case, but radio waves were to easy to jack in this twenty-first century world and he found that fleet commanders relied on it way too much.
“Officer on deck!” someone yelled cutting through the bridge’s silence. Kerr turned toward the voice and saluted.
“At ease men.” It was the admiral coming up from his quarters to check the command crew of his flagship. He was only a lower half Rear Admiral but Roger Locke acted as if he was in command of the entire First Fleet much to the annoyance of Captian Kerr.
“Sir,” Kerr said, saluting again. “The Caorachstyr Islands are in sight. The Morrigan reports no abnormalities or enemy contacts. Warreic ships have been sighted to the west, they’ve been signaled with intentions.” The Admiral simply nodded as Kerr reported what little there was to report. It would be a long few weeks and to add to that the Batavian government had yet to make a peep about the joint exercise with the Warreic. No doubt the large naval presence near Caorachstyr would prevent any shipping disruption by Batavian intruders, but just like the seas anything could happen and Kerr expected it to.
The carrier group took the long route north to avoid trouble with the Batavian and Serenierrian Navies. This netted the crews of the ships a days stay in a smaller Bantyric Naval port where while they re-supplied the men sampled the alcohol and the women. The departure north into a well traveled sea lane used by Warreic and Bantyric shipping companies caused a spectacle to be seen as fishing ships and ships full of shipping containers followed them periodically blowing their horns in triumph and pride as their fleet sailed the cold waters of the north. Moral had been boosted several times as they sailed through the northern Warreic Islands as waving Warreic people could be seen on the shores they passed nearby. The escort of random civilian ships grew and shrank several times during the course of the few days it took to sail around the eastern Warreic mainland. But now in the present they were gone, no more waving people, no more triumphant whistle blasts. Only the hard cold and heavy fog greeted them now.
The fog broke to overcast skies, the blue gray seas slapping against the side of the ship. To the south the Caorachstyr Islands could be seen as well as a few other Warreic ships in the area. Kerr took a few glances through his binoculars; an attack sub was visible a few miles in front of the Dál Riata, its design was common in the Bantyric and Warreic navies. A few flashes from the periscope confirmed it to be the BRN Morrigan. Bantyric subs had been picketing for the fleet, watching for underwater threats. Radio silence was the way Kerr liked it and he was lucky to convince the Rear Admiral to put it into effect, obviously a fleet this size would be easily detectable in any case, but radio waves were to easy to jack in this twenty-first century world and he found that fleet commanders relied on it way too much.
“Officer on deck!” someone yelled cutting through the bridge’s silence. Kerr turned toward the voice and saluted.
“At ease men.” It was the admiral coming up from his quarters to check the command crew of his flagship. He was only a lower half Rear Admiral but Roger Locke acted as if he was in command of the entire First Fleet much to the annoyance of Captian Kerr.
“Sir,” Kerr said, saluting again. “The Caorachstyr Islands are in sight. The Morrigan reports no abnormalities or enemy contacts. Warreic ships have been sighted to the west, they’ve been signaled with intentions.” The Admiral simply nodded as Kerr reported what little there was to report. It would be a long few weeks and to add to that the Batavian government had yet to make a peep about the joint exercise with the Warreic. No doubt the large naval presence near Caorachstyr would prevent any shipping disruption by Batavian intruders, but just like the seas anything could happen and Kerr expected it to.
