- OREOSOME -
You stand on the bridge, your officers arrayed before you and awaiting your first orders. You stand ramrod straight, sizing them up with a hawkish glare. There are four men total. Your Chief Deck Officer, the man in charge of keeping the crew in line, the Chief Engineer, the son of a bitch who keeps this tub afloat, your First Watch Officer, the guy who makes sure every order you issue is followed to the letter, and oversees the duties of all your other officers and junior officers, and your number one egghead, the E-Warfare Consultant, a man who can answer just about any question you have about new-age tech. He also oversees your early warning and countermeasure systems (radar, radio, sonar, point defence, you name it). You can tell just by looking at these men that they are all hardened veterans with years of experience in their various fields, as well as loyalty thicker than destroyer plating.
- scapheap -
[6] How intriguing! Well, considering how experienced a commander you are, how would you feel about taking over my worst boat? They just finished their repairs after their latest training accident. The last C.O. was burnt so badly that we couldn't even recognise the poor bastard! Oh, don't worry, he'll be good as new once they finish putting all his skin back on! Ha! I'll take your silence as a 'yes'? Don't worry, I'm sure that you'll whip them into shape in no time. In fact, you can get started sooner than you think! You're shipping out tonight! Congratulations Captain!
The deck rolls beneath your feet as you stand atop the conning tower, gazing miserably back at the harbour as it shrinks past the horizon. You glance downward as you hear the hatch leading to the interior of the U-boat utter a squeal as it creaks open and see a stern faced young man, your first watch officer, poke his head through and snap a sharp salute with one hand.
We've finished the final preparations for our voyage, the Con is ready for you Captain.
- Xantolos -
[5] You quietly remove your boots and wait to make your escape. One man utters a low swear and fumbles a small pile of documents he was sifting through, spilling them across the floor. The few moments they all spend glancing in his direction are all the opportunity you need to pad softly across the linoleum floor and out the hole where the front door used to be. You round the corner of the building, bursts of automatic weapons fire still clattering in the distance. You slip your boots back on without bothering to lace them and sprint across the intersection to the alarm box you spied across the way. You yank the cover open and pull the small red switch inside. Nothing happens.
- GreatWyrmGold -
You flick the communicator on and hear a brief rush of static flood both your eardrums. You give him a thumbs up and he nods an affirmative before letting his gaze wander out back out over the wide expanse of ocean beneath you. You have about ten minutes until you reach the shore. If there's any questions you have for the rest of your team, or if you want to check your gear, now is the time.