Voyage of the Ulysses
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"Ulysses? Hello?"
Will was awoken by the sound of the radio
"Ulysses? Ulysses, do you copy? Where the hell are you?"
He leapt out of bed, and straight up the the communications desk.
"Sorry about that, I was, uh, just talking to the Captain. Will Hansen of the Ulysses here. Who is this?"
"This is Home Base. Do you have the Captain's report?"
"No sir. I'll go get it now. I'll send it within the hour"
He got dressed hurriedly, then began the walk to the bridge in the hope of finding the captain.
Arriving, he walked over to the Captain.
"Excuse me sir, do you have the report? Home Base have requested it asap"
Will was awoken by the sound of the radio
"Ulysses? Ulysses, do you copy? Where the hell are you?"
He leapt out of bed, and straight up the the communications desk.
"Sorry about that, I was, uh, just talking to the Captain. Will Hansen of the Ulysses here. Who is this?"
"This is Home Base. Do you have the Captain's report?"
"No sir. I'll go get it now. I'll send it within the hour"
He got dressed hurriedly, then began the walk to the bridge in the hope of finding the captain.
Arriving, he walked over to the Captain.
"Excuse me sir, do you have the report? Home Base have requested it asap"
Name: Joseph Clay
Age: 26
Nationality: Engilish immigrant to New Zealand
Apperance: A usually grease covered man wearing the same tattered, blue overalls every day. His stained white shirt is sometimes covered by his formal flight jacket on formal ocassions. His foggy goggles sit a top his matted, brown hair.
Size: Just below average height with long arms
Characteristics: His unofficial ADD resulted in him leaving school and finding a fascination for engines and boilers. Joing the navy and later being transfered to the Ulysses has still left his curiosity and lust for excitement unquenched.
Occupation: Secondary Engineer specialising in boilers.
Age: 26
Nationality: Engilish immigrant to New Zealand
Apperance: A usually grease covered man wearing the same tattered, blue overalls every day. His stained white shirt is sometimes covered by his formal flight jacket on formal ocassions. His foggy goggles sit a top his matted, brown hair.
Size: Just below average height with long arms
Characteristics: His unofficial ADD resulted in him leaving school and finding a fascination for engines and boilers. Joing the navy and later being transfered to the Ulysses has still left his curiosity and lust for excitement unquenched.
Occupation: Secondary Engineer specialising in boilers.
An uneven hum in the engines woke Joseph from his obsessive state of problem solving. He got up and starting pacing around the room after sitting hunched over his desk for hours.
"Damn", he yelled at hime self, he was late again.
Quicky grabbing the old wrench from his desk he rammed the door open and quickly ran down the corridor, in the direction of the main engine.
He chuckled as he sprinted full pelt down the corridor. No wonder they thought he was incompetent.
"A report? Erm... nothing really. Cruising, nothing discovered as of yet, engines in proper working order."
"Thank you, sir."
"Remember that after you relay that message, report to the dining hall for breakfast."
A drowsy Henry stumbled down the halls and stared down the few crew members that passed. He steadied himself against the wall and slowly but surely made his way down to the engine room once more. Once safely alone, he lit up a cigarete and began to enjoy a quality smoke alone. Since everything was running swimmingly, there was no one to fix. Or pretend to fix and actually test something new on. Either or....
The large man's eyes rolled up into his head as he fell face-first into his hotcakes. Several of the crew cheered as Bible stood and silently extended a hand. The face-down warrior reached into his pocket without moving his head and removed around $20 American.
As he jammed it into the victor's hand, Bible nodded, then carried off his massive plate to the enraged dishwasher.
He took off his shirt as he strode towards the recreation area. No point in getting fat.
As he jammed it into the victor's hand, Bible nodded, then carried off his massive plate to the enraged dishwasher.
He took off his shirt as he strode towards the recreation area. No point in getting fat.
Just a little gag. Not much to do at the moment.
It's not official or anything, Just some silliness.
It's not official or anything, Just some silliness.
As John was dreaming, a sudden violent push awoke him. He lazily opened his eyes, and saw a man right in front of him. He was yelling at him to work, so John sleepily said, "Yeah, sure." He checked his watch as he rose up, and saw it still too early until breakfast. He drowsily walked back to his corridors, and slumped on his bed. "I'll wake up later".
Henry watched as Bible left with the plates and let out a slide whistle noise as he sat down onto the table and asked someone who had been watching and looked to roll the dice on a round two
"Can I have this dance?" Henry stated cooly as the man smirked and sat back down
"Whatever" The man, a gunner it would appear, sat across as a second stack was brought out before them. Henry drew his own set of fork and knife out of his coat and then folded the starch white uniform next to him, not wanting to get it sticky from the layer of syrup he had poured on it
"And what is the wager?" His opposite asked, rolling up his sleeves. Henry smirked and drew a silver pocket watch from his suit pocket and asked politly
"Will this do? I have no cash"
"Fair enough. Let's go, doc!" His skinhead buddies began to shout and place bets of there own, hoping to raise the moral and level of sugar toxicity in the air. The stage for battle was set.
"On your mark" The marine got low, hands on each side of the stack
"Get set" Henry placed his fork and knife on the first breakfest pastry, keeping a stolid face to the jeering one of his adversary.
"GO!" The two were off, the marine grabbing large chunks of it and Henry skillfully cutting large enough pieces for him to swallow shortly after eating but not have to chew cud like his less civilized opponent. The battle waged for all of 2 minutes, down to the final cake. The marine was ahead, but the sly Henry jabbed the table with his elbow, knocking the plates off target, and sending the marine into a face full of cake. This menuver gave the Welshmen enough time to finish without even a drop or crumb on his clothes.
"No fair! You cheated!" The marine stood and looked like he was about to pull his side arm on the weaponless man. Henry was unphased and meerly replyed
"Your plate contained 1 fewer pancake than mine did. I suppose you had a man inform the chef and arranged your little trick. I am not a fool, my fair soldier. Now, if you do not mind, I wish to leave" Henry held out his hand, and the marine, red-faced with rage, placed the crumpled bill in his clean hand. To get a minor revenge, the bill was sticky with syrup residue
"Don't spend it all in one place" The defeated man spat as he left, his entourage in tow. Henry sighed and placed the bill on the table, leaving it to whoever wanted it. He had done it for love of the fight, not for money. He departed to a nearby sink and washed his hands throughly before collecting his lab coat and being on his merry way.
((Sorry if it doesn't advance the plot, but I lack something better to do))
"Can I have this dance?" Henry stated cooly as the man smirked and sat back down
"Whatever" The man, a gunner it would appear, sat across as a second stack was brought out before them. Henry drew his own set of fork and knife out of his coat and then folded the starch white uniform next to him, not wanting to get it sticky from the layer of syrup he had poured on it
"And what is the wager?" His opposite asked, rolling up his sleeves. Henry smirked and drew a silver pocket watch from his suit pocket and asked politly
"Will this do? I have no cash"
"Fair enough. Let's go, doc!" His skinhead buddies began to shout and place bets of there own, hoping to raise the moral and level of sugar toxicity in the air. The stage for battle was set.
"On your mark" The marine got low, hands on each side of the stack
"Get set" Henry placed his fork and knife on the first breakfest pastry, keeping a stolid face to the jeering one of his adversary.
"GO!" The two were off, the marine grabbing large chunks of it and Henry skillfully cutting large enough pieces for him to swallow shortly after eating but not have to chew cud like his less civilized opponent. The battle waged for all of 2 minutes, down to the final cake. The marine was ahead, but the sly Henry jabbed the table with his elbow, knocking the plates off target, and sending the marine into a face full of cake. This menuver gave the Welshmen enough time to finish without even a drop or crumb on his clothes.
"No fair! You cheated!" The marine stood and looked like he was about to pull his side arm on the weaponless man. Henry was unphased and meerly replyed
"Your plate contained 1 fewer pancake than mine did. I suppose you had a man inform the chef and arranged your little trick. I am not a fool, my fair soldier. Now, if you do not mind, I wish to leave" Henry held out his hand, and the marine, red-faced with rage, placed the crumpled bill in his clean hand. To get a minor revenge, the bill was sticky with syrup residue
"Don't spend it all in one place" The defeated man spat as he left, his entourage in tow. Henry sighed and placed the bill on the table, leaving it to whoever wanted it. He had done it for love of the fight, not for money. He departed to a nearby sink and washed his hands throughly before collecting his lab coat and being on his merry way.
((Sorry if it doesn't advance the plot, but I lack something better to do))
This declares that all players are now in the breakfast hall cafetorium.
"Gentlemen, Ladies. Addease."
The crew, slightly beleaguered at being commanded to stand at attention, and immediately to relax.
"We are on a mission. This mission will extend for over two months, and it will require every human aboard to work their hardest. But! That is to say, that in two months, we are all to stay at attention.-" The captain stopped his speech in his right-ambling through the rows of tables, looking at a young Seaman.
"You, stand at attention."
Wordlessly he stood, looking directly straight.
"Could you stand here at attention for two weeks, son?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Would you enjoy it?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Would you get tired?"
"Sir, no sir!"
"This!" the Captain said, returning his attention to the assembly "Is what you are, right now. No man wouldn't be driven mad by just standing there for months. Relax, private."
The young sailor sat, slightly bewildered by the last part of the captain's message.
"We all are hard and strong, but we're all in the same boat, and we're all gonna go crazy if we're all going to be this stiff-necked for two months. So, I encourage you all: from this day forth, everyone is at ease. I declare this the Ulysses Casual day, and you all will address me and your superiors as Mr, Mrs., Miss, or Dr. as be the case, unless otherwise permitted of their first name. -Bah, that still sounds to rigorous." Said the Captain, frank but pleasantly. He looked around some before pointing to another sailor.
"You, what's your name son?"
"Private Robert T. Black, sir!" said he, as he shot up.
"What do you want to do right now?" The sailor was caught of guard, his admirable stance faltered somewhat.
"Euh... well, I would like to play some.. Table.. tennis, sir?"
"Have fun, Rob. The tables are over in the storage closet. You! Let's see if you can address me correctly."
"Yes... Mr. Stihl." said the Sailor, stopping himself half-way through standing up.
"I'll put it bluntly and I'll put it straight; calm down and be yourself. We're our own people on this ship, the best and brightest. So I think we should just enjoy that fact a little."
Silence followed, easily more than half of the crew not knowing how to react.
A cook behind the cafeteria serving dividers began a nervous but heartfelt clap. More claps followed until everyone was as exuberant as they could be, shouting, cheering, and various jovialities. Many people went out various entrances to other places aboard the sub.
Henry was leaning against the door frame clapping slowly with the others. He watched the captain finish and muttered "Nice speach. Sir," before leaving again. What he wanted to do right now in his leasure time involved him and a hot young nurse, but that wasn't going to happen. He settled on lounging on the mid-deck, not getting in the way while he read some medical journals
Vasily was having a wonderful breakfast, he had convinced the cook to make him some grenki. He had always liked the dish, it reminded him of his mother who would cook it for him when he was younger.Unfortunately after the revolution she could not make it as much for the shortage of eggs. As Vasily laughed silently to himself over the food disputes he thought about what the captain had said in his speech. He liked the idea of loosening the formality, the captain seemed to know what he was about which reassured Vasily. But already he had seen something that had undermined that reassurance, Vasily had seen a crewman with a side arm arguing with the doctor. Allowing a person a gun on a submarine was a horribly bad idea and he would have to remember to tell the Marine Sergent about it.
Why is everyone insulting the boat already, Adam Jenson with the science crew and Combined with the engines. Can't you guys have a little pride in your ship.
steve grabbed his breakfast and headed back to the room. he never really interacted with the rest of the crew, and didnt want to start now. he went back to his new room and laid down on the bed. for some reason he felt sick to his stomach. all of a sudden he started to gag, so he ran into the bathroom and threw up all over the place. he had no idea what was going on, but he knew he had to get checked out. so he made a mad dash for the infirmary. running into a few people wasn't a concern of his, because he felt like he was about to lose a kidney over this. he ran into the infirmary, busted down the door and feel onto the floor.
Unfortunatly, no one was there except an inturn, who rushed to find Henry. The man himself actually entered seconds after, having been pushed away by Steve to begin with. He sat Steve up and eventually pulled him into a chair.
"Someone get this man some water" Henry shouted out before turning back to the problem at hand
"So... where does it hurt?"
"Someone get this man some water" Henry shouted out before turning back to the problem at hand
"So... where does it hurt?"
A loud voice echoed across the hall where John was walking. He could hear a man talking about how long the mission would last, and other things related to it. He poked his head out the door, and saw a man of great authority giving a speech. He waited until it ended, because he hated speeches. John entered the cafeteria after a few minutes of snooze time. He walked into the massive hall, and saw people lining up with bowls and plates for food. John walked up to a table, and picked up some utensils and a plate. He walked over to the line, and waited. John could see crewmen everywhere, chewing, eating and discussing their life on the submarine. He waited a few minutes until he finally got to the cook. "Can I have the pancakes?" John said. The server lazily raised his arm, and put some pancakes on the plate. "Syrup please?" The server slowly strutted over to a large pot, and took out some syrup. He placed it on the pancakes, and trudged over to another crewman. John shuffled out of the line, and sat on a chair, eating his food slowly.
Adalwolf sat through breakfast quietly, just eating and avoiding talks. He looked at the captain a few times, wondering about his abilities.
After breakfast, he went down to the engine room again, to check on his engines. Amongst the buzz of the engines, he heard a different sound. Something ...human. He quietly went around the engines, searching the room. Finally, he found something. Or rather, someone, who's been hiding behind the engines. He looked at the man, wondering what was his occupation. Adalwolf went out of the engine room and locked the door, just in case. He looked at the nearby communication system, searching for the microphone that was intended to let him communicate with the captain.
He picked this particular one up and cleared his throat, then, in an official tone of voice, he said "Herr Kapitan? I think we have a stowaway."
After breakfast, he went down to the engine room again, to check on his engines. Amongst the buzz of the engines, he heard a different sound. Something ...human. He quietly went around the engines, searching the room. Finally, he found something. Or rather, someone, who's been hiding behind the engines. He looked at the man, wondering what was his occupation. Adalwolf went out of the engine room and locked the door, just in case. He looked at the nearby communication system, searching for the microphone that was intended to let him communicate with the captain.
He picked this particular one up and cleared his throat, then, in an official tone of voice, he said "Herr Kapitan? I think we have a stowaway."
Joeseph, with a belly full of pancakes, trudged down to the engine room.
There was something strange and relaxing about the hum of the massive hulks of steel. He often sat beside them for hours on end when bored.
His hand slammed against the engine room door, the left over syrup on his hand made stuck to the door but he managed to open the thing. He entered the room licking his hand and saw muddy footprints leading out of the room.
"But with bare feet?" he said, accidently, aloud.
Then, when his exclamation had finished, a squad of roughly five men barged into the room. They were lead by Adalwof.
Seeing his senior officer he immediately stood to attention but then, remembering the announcement, slouched over, into his normal position, and simply pointed to the footsteps.
After a few mutterings the squad left abruptly with Joeseph tailing them.
The search had began.
There was something strange and relaxing about the hum of the massive hulks of steel. He often sat beside them for hours on end when bored.
His hand slammed against the engine room door, the left over syrup on his hand made stuck to the door but he managed to open the thing. He entered the room licking his hand and saw muddy footprints leading out of the room.
"But with bare feet?" he said, accidently, aloud.
Then, when his exclamation had finished, a squad of roughly five men barged into the room. They were lead by Adalwof.
Seeing his senior officer he immediately stood to attention but then, remembering the announcement, slouched over, into his normal position, and simply pointed to the footsteps.
After a few mutterings the squad left abruptly with Joeseph tailing them.
The search had began.