jdagger: (Default)
Since being given the command of the New Babbage Naval Squadron, I have found that my time has been progressively eaten by administrative tasks. Sadly, even in light of what happened in town with the Obolensky affair, I still am running the squadron with a shoestring staff. I am wearing a lot of hats, to include Chief of Intelligence. There are days when I wish I could spirit the Duchess away from Hotspur, because I could use a second set of eyes when going over all the briefs and notes that come across my desk.

I had just finished my second cup of coffee when I saw the pile of paper neatly dropped from the repeating telegraph in the office. Typically all of the reports from inbound and outbound shipping are sent to me for review, and so I read through them classifying them for possible action, whether it means increasing the coastal patrols, checking on harbor watch or any of the other myriad things that come from 'someone somewhere saw something'. The Caledon air packet made a report into harbor control that they saw an oil slick with debris out by the Vernian Deep marker buoy. I made a note to send someone out to check, and looked at the forwarded port entry/exit log. Debris could mean anything....the log didn't indicate anyone missing, but it could be smugglers or some private craft that failed to check in. I happened to reach for my cup when I saw the byline on the copy of the Primgraph Reporter..."missing correspondent". I grew more concerned as I read the article. I knew Miss Janus had been going on an assignment, that it had been a while since I had seen her in town...

I quickly telegraphed the pier, and told the watch officer to get my Seahawk ready to sail. The Seahawk is small, in comparison to the other gunboats in the squadron, but is fast enough to get me out where I need to be. Once I arrived at the docks, the harbormaster already had the message that Black Queen was outbound for the Vernian. We got underway, and after a short run at speed found the debris field. It wasn't much to see, litter, odd bits of flotsam...and then I saw it. A jacket. I fished it out with a gaffhook, and it didn't take much to know who it belonged to. It was hers. If it was as I thought, she'd have taken the Seahorse out. It was a sturdy sub, but even so didn't have an air supply that would last for this long.

I fired off a telegraph to the harbor office for distribution, warning of a possible navigation hazard. This should give me a little time to reroute shipping, and keep traffic out of the area.

Now to find a submarine...

Profile

jdagger: (Default)
Jedburgh Dagger

April 2014

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
27282930   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Apr. 26th, 2017 07:30 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios