[STORY] A funny thing happened on the way to the shipyard...

[Duane Peters]

The scene at the Philadelphia Navy Yard was it's own usual brand of highly-organized chaos. On the dock next to SSN 2161-X, a tall, balding, somewhat sardonic man in the khaki uniform and dolphins of a US Navy sub commander stood next to a shorter man in pristine Navy dress whites and the insignia of an admiral. The crew of the sub was busily engaged in re-painting the hull; strangely, a large logo was being roughed out on both sides of the boat's sail above her hull number and the rest of the hull was being painted bright silver, instead of low-visibility grey. Civilian representatives of the Electric Boat Company and Grumman Aerospace were also visible, installing some kind of equipment in clusters around the bow and stern of the large Seawolf-class nuclear attack boat. Odd protrustions spotted the hull here and there, and what looked like fairings for huge jet engines were mounted low on the hull. There was also a mini-sub similar to the NR-1 nuclear rescue vehicle docked over her aft escape hatch.
They both watched the bustle of activity in companionable silence. The taller man finally spoke to the admiral. "So we're still go for launch on Sunday, sir?"
"Yes. The Navy still hasn't changed its mind, and I don't think they're going to at this late date. We need a presence out there too badly to turn back at this point. The modifications are done, we've culled the right crewmen from all over the sub service. I think we're ready, what's your assessment?"
The tall man looked pensive. The faint strains of some kind of music were briefly heard over a lull in the usual background noise, and the boat seemed to quiver momentarily. "I've been reading my XO's reports almost hourly, sir. I think we'll make launch without problems. I'm more afraid of interference from the rest of the brass when they get wind of this. We may be a black project, but we're not *that* black, if you catch my drift. We could still get out asses kicked."
The admiral snorted. "Let 'em try. Personally, I'm going to fight for this project tooth and nail; it's my last chance to poke a sharp stick in Admiral Graham's eye before I retire. Besides, if we're ever going to get a handle on the situation in the Solar System, we've got to get out there where we can *do* something."
A willowy blonde woman walked down the gangplank and up to the two men, saluted and then held out a clipboard. "Supplies are all loaded, sir," she said to her captain.
"Admiral, I don't know if you've ever met my exec, Lieutenant Emily Lake?"
"A pleasure, Lieutenant." He turned back to the commander. "I've got to fly out to New York tonight, but I'll try to be back for the launch. Good luck and Godspeed to you and the Stingray, Commander Dodge."
He turned and saluted the Admiral; as he did, the ship's patch on his shoulder came into view; a stingray, in a sailor's hat and chomping a cigar, with a skull-and-crossbones flying from its erect tail. "Thank you, Admiral Winslow."
The noise cleared enough to finally recognize the background music being played over large loudspeakers: the Village People's "In the Navy"...

[Bob Schroeck]

Ooh, I like this storyline. More, please.
-- Bob
---------
...The President is on the line
As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by...

[Foxboy]

This is the crew from the Kelsey Grammer movie, Down Periscope isn't it?
COOL!
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[Sirrocco]

No John Philip Sousa?
Awww...
Still, definately looking forward to seeing more of it.

[Duane Peters]

No John Phillip Sousa *yet*. [grin]
As for the cries of "more!", this little bit just grabbed my brain and wouldn't let go the other night (I was watching Down Periscope at the time) and I haven't really thought of anything continuing on from here.
Anybody else wanna grab characters in the US Navy's oddest sub since WWII?
(And yes, when she hits her drives, the hull will turn *bright pink* [evil grin])

[robkelk]

---

And yes, when she hits her drives, the hull will turn *bright pink*

---

Oh, good - I was afraid I was the only person here who'd heard of Operation Petticoat...
Now, how do we work in a reference to McHale's Navy?

-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[M Fnord]

Oh hell. Now we've got squids and zoomies running around loose. This will Not End Well for anybody involved. Though the Navy gets points for actually going for the 'wave instead of poking at it with sticks like those humorless TSAB sods.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[Foxboy]

The Pinafore will team up with the USS Stingray in Operation: Great Justice. It just has to happen.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[Duane Peters]

---

Now, how do we work in a reference to McHale's Navy?

---

XO Lake needs a dive officer and quartermaster to fill out her TOE...

[Duane Peters]

The Navy has always been a place where cutting-edge research work has been done. Look up the career of one Rear Admiral Grace Hopper, for instance, or Admiral Hyman Rickover...

[M Fnord]

Oh, sure. But considering the Air Force would very much like to have a complete monopoly on space operations (despite Navy/Marine heroes like, say, Al Shepard, John Glenn, Jim Lovell, Pete Conrad, John Young) any enroachment by the squids on what the USAF considers "their" territory will not end well.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[ECSNorway]

---

humorless TSAB sods.

---

Hehheheheheh.
How you can call them humorless when approximately half the staff cosplays at work, I don't know. --
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[Foxboy]

What about our Coast Guard contingent?!? You know, the guys running ATC/Port operations at Port Luna? (My thought is that they were among the first to PROTECT the 1969 landing site...]
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[M Fnord]

I'd have figured that was the Park Service. And you know as well as I that everybody forgets the Coast Guard.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery

FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information

"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"

[ECSNorway]

---

My thought is that they were among the first to PROTECT the 1969 landing site...

---

There's a story there somewhere... hrm. Lemme grab my copy of 'Clear and Present Danger' and borrow some USCG characters.--
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[Black Aeronaut]

OOooohhh! I like this project. Say! Anyone think that the Navy would have couriers ferry written orders to the Stingray? After all, with all those AI's floating around, who knows just how capable the Fen are of breaking their ciphers.

---

Black Aeronaut Technologies Group
Aerospace Solutions for the discerning spacer
"To the commissary we should go," Yoda declared firmly. "News
of this kind a danish requires."

---

[robkelk]

---

Say! Anyone think that the Navy would have couriers ferry written orders to the Stingray?

---

From a security point of view, they'd almost definitely do this. On the flip side, that would require them to coat a second vessel with 'wavium... Which wins out, security or prejudice?

-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[ECSNorway]

Well, we have a Coast Guard station established on Luna. May be mostly BUILT with hard-tech, but it's hard-tech that was lifted there by 'wave-ship.
I think there may be a faction in the Navy that thinks along the lines of "You know, if there are going to be military SHIPS in space, then they should be NAVY ships, and if this is the only way to beat those zoomies there, then I say we GO!".--
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[Duane Peters]

---

From a security point of view, they'd almost definitely do this. On the flip side, that would require them to coat a second vessel with 'wavium...

---

Third. Remember the NR-1 lookalike on the stern hatch...[grin]

[Duane Peters]

Captain's Log, .
The Stingray's sea trials are completed, and we're running on the surface back to Norfolk. The new drive system works as advertised, not bad for something yanked out of a bad spy novel. I have entered into the ship's log official commendations for Electronic Technician 2/c Nitro Jones and Sonar Technician 2/c E. T. Lovachelli for work above and beyond the call of duty rigging the new systems, as well as Seaman Brad Stepanik-Winslow's successful completion of the coursework for promotion to Reactor Technician 1/c. The rest of the modifications we won't be able to test until next week, when we officially...
Just then, a knock came on Commander Dodge's door. Manouvering with the ease of long practice in the cramped compartment, he opened it to find Lieutenant Lake waiting. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but we've got several surface ships on intercept, and the task force commander demanding to speak to you. They won't talk to me at all."
"No indication of what this is about, hmm?"
"No, sir."
Tom Dodge sighed. "Well, I suppose I'd better talk to him, then." Waving Emily on ahead of him, he watched her walk into the control room. Not for the first time, he regretted the fact that the Navy had chosen to keep her on as his executive officer. Not because she wasn't competent, but because as long as she was under his command, they couldn't continue what had started at the Norfolk Inn after the end of the voyage of his previous command. The upside of this was that the Navy had decided to continue and expand Admiral Graham's "pilot program", so now the Stingray had the highest percentage of female crew in the entire submarine service. Coming into the control room, he saw his new dive officer, a perfect example. Lieutenant j.g. Wilhemina "Willie" Grumby was a stunning slim redhead with an Irish temper and a spine of carbon steel. Even if I don't believe her stories, what she did to get back at Stepanik and Buckman was worth having her on board... Passing the chart table, he moved into the radio room.
Nitro was pulling things apart and rewiring them, and as usual, crooning. This time, it was Frankie Avalon. "Beauty school dropout, no graduation day for you..." Dodge looked at him and said, "Nitro, there's a radio call for me?"
"Oh, yeah, Cap'n, lemme just..." Grabbing a loaf pan he'd raided from Buckman's galley, he scooped parts off the bench, then did something amazing.
He flipped two switches on the board and the radio panel came to life. "Submarine Stingray, this is task force leader Delta-one. Put your commander on *now*, dammit!"
With an annoyed look, Dodge picked up the mike. "This is submarine Stingray, Stingray-One speaking. What can we do for you, Delta-One?"
"You are hereby ordered to heave to and surrender your vessel, by order of COMSUBLANT. You and your crew are accused of possession, trafficing in and intent to utilize controlled substances. Your crew will be taken off and sent to Norfolk for questioning by NCIS."
Dodge grimaced. This is all because Admiral Graham is annoyed that he hasn't got clearance or need-to-know about this project, I'll bet... "And who signed those orders, Delta-One?"
"Admiral Yancey Graham. He's head of COMSUBLANT, now that Admiral Winslow's retirement is official."
"Admiral Winslow's retirement doesn't take effect for another two weeks, and my orders were cut directly by the Secretary of the Navy. This is a classified project, and I cannot allow her in the hands of an untrained crew."
"Dodge, I've got a personal message for you from Admiral Graham. It reads, 'You're not getting out of this one, Popeye. Since Admiral Winslow's on leave for his last two weeks, the Secretary of the Navy has appointed me acting CO COMSUBLANT.' Now, my orders are to take you into port. Should you refuse, I am authorized to tell your XO to take you into custody. Should *she* refuse, I am authorized to assume this is a 'broken arrow' and open fire. I'm telling you for the last time, heave to and prepare to be boarded."
Finally something clicked in Dodge's head. "Marty? Marty Pascal? Graham sent *you* out to capture *me*?"
"He sure did, Captain Crossbones, and I'm here to tell you, that I'll *love* being a witness at your court-martial. And seeing Lake broken back to the secretarial pool would be fun too, so she'll surrender if she knows what's good for her."
Dodge snapped off the radio link, then spun and vaulted through the hatch into the control room. "Willie, crash dive. Put 'er on the bottom. Our mission profile just got moved up a week." Clicking on the "squawk", or ship's intercom, he continued, "Howard, I'm gonna need you to tickle the worms as soon as we take on enough reaction mass."
Down in the engine room, CPO Aldous Howard stepped up to the squawk and replied, "Aye, aye, sir! We'll be ready!" Walking over to a piece of decidedly non-regulation equipment, he expertly snapped on a few controls, then watched with satisfaction as a tiny digital display powered on. Scrolling down the menu, he stopped at a particular selection, then grinned broadly. Yep, that'll do it fer sure., he thought to himself. As his finger stabbed down, the first strains of John Philip Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever" erupted from the speakers at an eardrum shattering level...inside the reactor compartment. Outside, it was only turned up to somewhere around 11. Howard stood in the center of the reactor control compartment, grinning like a madman and waving an imaginary baton. The magnetohydrodynamic "worm" drives, taken straight out of "The Hunt for Red October", began spooling up slowly to full operating power.
In the control room, Sonar reported, "Active pinging, sir! All quadrants!" just as Lt. Grumby declared "ALL Stop!" and there was a tiny lurch as the sub touched down on the bottom mud. Sonar continued on, "The surface ships are deploying side-scan as well, sir, I can hear 'em. They'll spot us pretty quick."
Lt. Lake turned to Dodge. "Sir, what's going on?"
"Marty Pascal and Admiral Graham are upset that we didn't invite them to the launch, Emily. They want to take us back to port to discuss it, as well as your and my career prospects."
Lt. Grumby reported, "Ballast tanks are full, sir. Internal gravity is switching over...now." A queasy feeling gripped all of them as the internal gravity field came online. "Are we go for launch?"
"Sorry, Grumby, but I'm going to have to say we are. I know you were hoping to get a little leave with your family beforehand, but..."
"Oh, that's all right, sir, Pappy Grumby and Mama Ginger won't mind none. Pappy Gilligan may get a might bit sore, but he'll get over it."
Once again, he was struck by the humor of having the daughter of the castaways who had inspired Sherwood Schwartz to create the immortal comedy as his dive officer. "We'll try to get you back down as soon as possible, Grumby. Anybody else have any problems with taking off early?"
"Er, sir," "Spots" Sylvesterson said from the diving planes controls, "once again, we prefer to *go* with the bizarre and risky."
"OK, Grumby, shift hats. You are now the *Manouvering* officer, not just our dive officer. Secure the valves, and let's *kick this pig*!"
*****

Aboard DD-984, the Paul S. Foster, Marty Pascal was scanning the sea to port with binoculars. The task group was already preparing depth charges to force the errant sub to surface, and the Orlando was also scouring the area. No way he's getting out of this one,, Marty thought to himself.
Just then, smack in the center of the convoy, a large, pink, submarine-shaped missile burst from under the waves. Marty was nearly drowned as the wash from the impossibly flying submarine washed him off the deck and into the shining blue sea.

[Kokuten]

and with a mighty "Yeeeee HAW" the US Navy leaves the comforting embrace of the Mother Ocean, bound for the ever more vasty deeps to be found in the skies overhead < /TV announcer voiceWire Geek - Burning the weak and trampling the dead since 1979Wire Geek - Burning the weak and trampling the dead since 1979

[Bob Schroeck]

Oh, I'm looking forward to more of this.
No fair sneaking the Gilligan's Island references in under the radar. The whole time I'm reading I'm going, "Grumby? Grumby? I know that name, but from where?" Then you blindside me at the end. Grrrr.
-- Bob
---------
...The President is on the line
As ninety-nine crab rangoons go by...

[aeroprime]

aeroprime breaks out into song "We all live in a pink submarine, a pink submarine, a pink submarine."
-aeroprime
-------------
"Been there. Done that. Can't remember why."

[Duane Peters]

[evil grin] Muahahahahaha...
Glad it's still working for you, Bob. I thought this one was a bit rushed, myself; I was trying to complete it and post in the 15 minutes before the library closed for the night.