#USS Maine blown up

[mckinleygirl98]

JUST DREW THE UGLIEST PRESIDENT EVER HE LOOKS LIKE SOMEONES GRAMPA also i drew some green guy idk

[mckinleygirl98]

between furthermore and henceforth for me

To test tumblr’s reading comprehension…

you can do ANYTHING to this post, reblog, add polls, start a fuckin roleplay in the notes, like it, I don’t give a shit.

BUT

you can’t add tags

[mareislandfoundation]

Raw Courage

Christmas Day 1941 Seaman First Class Donald Stratton arrived at the Mare Island Hospital with life threating burns over much of his body. A little over two weeks before he was trapped with six shipmates high above the main deck on the sky control platform of the battleship USS Arizona (BB-39). A surprise attack by aircraft of the Imperial Japanese Navy had turned the battleship into a burning hell on earth from which there could be no escape. As he told the story "A bomb blew up the forward magazine of the USS Arizona and the ship was engulfed in flames. I and five others were located on the anti-aircraft gun director’s platform above the bridge when the forward powder magazine blew. All of us were badly burned. I was burned over 80% of my body. At that point, the only possibility to evacuate the ship was to dive in the water, which was 80 feet below and was fully engulfed in flame. That was not an option for survival.”

The United States was at peace as earlier when General Quarters sounded aboard the USS Arizona while moored at the huge naval base at Pearl Harbor.   Japanese planes had just been sighted bombing nearby Ford Island. Hearing the alarm, Seaman Stratton rushed to his battle station as a sight setter in the Port Anti-Aircraft fire director. Within minutes of his arrival at his battle station a Japanese high-altitude bomber dropped an armor piercing bomb that tore through the deck of the ship and ignited a million pounds of explosive, and thousands of gallons of aviation gas and fuel oil. The massive explosion completely enveloped Stratton’s battle station as the ship settled to the bottom of the harbor, her back broken and her sides blown out. Trapped above the flaming wreckage Stratton and six others were saved when another sailor, Joe George, aboard the repair ship USS Vestal that was moored alongside the Arizona acted. Despite direct orders Joe George threw the men a line and refused to cut it until the men made it to safety. Stratton and five other survivors from the sky control platform managed to make it over the flaming seas surrounding the burning hulk of the Arizona to the deck of the Vestal by climbing hand over hand down the line as the Japanese continued to attack.

The burns on Stratton’s arms were so bad that his skin sloughed off as he worked his way down the line to the Vestal. With burns over much of his body he was taken to the Naval Hospital at Pearl which was overwhelmed with patients. The decision was made to evacuate some of the patients to the mainland thus Seaman Stratton and 196 other seriously wounded sailors and Marines were transported on the blacked-out transport USS Scott arriving at the Mare Island Hospital on Christmas Day 1941. Seaman Stratton was successfully treated at Mare Island with what were then innovative burn treatments for several months until he was transferred to Corona, California for a convalescence. Due to the severity of the damage to his arm and leg he was medically discharged in September 1942. Unbelievably, when his injuries allowed, Donald Stratton re-enlisted in the Navy and went aboard the destroyer USS Stack at Naval Station Treasure Island in 1944. Aboard the Stack Seaman Stratton turned the tables on the enemy as he and the Stack participated in the invasions of New Guinea, Halmahera, Leyte, Luzon and Okinawa.

After the war Stratton took up the cause to secure a posthumous medal for Joe George, the sailor from the Vestal who helped rescue the six men from the sky control platform. Joe George was never recognized for his role in saving the men because he disobeyed a direct order in not cutting the line to the Arizona until Seaman Stratton and five others had made it across. Lest you think the Navy was being too cold-hearted in denying recognition for Joe George, the Vestal was at risk from the ongoing explosions and fires from USS Arizona as well as the ongoing attack. Vestal had been hit with two bombs and was sinking when Joe George was ordered to cut the line. The fact is, Vestal could likely have pulled away snapping the line, but the site of those desperate men likely influenced more than just Joe George on that awful day. Despite the circumstances, in 2017 the US Navy acceded to Donald Stratton’s persistence and posthumously awarded Joe George the Bronze Medal for Valor.

Dennis Kelly

[yatescountyhistorycenter]

Explosion of a ship, implosion of a life

By Jonathan Monfiletto

Marine Corps Sgt. Maj. William Anthony wasn’t born in Yates County, and he isn’t buried here either. It seems the only time he set foot on Yates County soil was for a month-long stint picking grapes in Jerusalem in the fall of 1899; his wife was from Guyanoga, and his son settled in the Dresden area as an adult. Otherwise, Sgt. Anthony had no connections here.

However, the memory of Sgt. Maj. Anthony and the story of his heroic deed continue to live on in Yates County – whether modern-day residents realize it – in the name of a road bearing his surname. Anthony Road, which runs from Route 14 southward into the village of Dresden, honors the man who played the role of a tragic hero in the story of the Spanish American War.

While recent findings suggest the explosion aboard the USS Maine was caused by a spontaneous fire in the coal bunker, in 1898 fingers pointed toward the ship being blown up by a mine set by Spanish forces. What isn’t under dispute is, first, that the incident led directly to the Spanish American War and, second, that it was then-Pvt. Bill Anthony who sounded the alarm to the ship’s commander about the explosion.

According to an article in the Penn Yan Democrat of February 17, 1933, Anthony was acting as orderly to Navy Cpt. Charles Sigsbee, the Maine’s commander, on February 15, 1898. The ship was anchored in the harbor of Havana, Cuba, “and all was peaceful when the deafening, rending blast rocked the vessel,” the newspaper stated, at approximately 9:40 p.m. Eastern time.

According to historian John Creamer, it was an oppressively warm and humid evening. The Maine had been sent to Cuba on a goodwill visit to protect American citizens and interests on the island nation, while tensions between the United States and Spain – which controlled Cuba at the time – reached a boiling point after building up for years. The Maine’s presence was meant to encourage Americans and Cubans and challenge the Spanish.

Creamer described Anthony’s experience that evening this way: “Private Bill took a long stroll on deck to postpone retiring to his steaming hammock below. There was no air conditioning then – in fact, the Maine was the first US Navy vessel to have electric lights. It was just as well for Bill that he dawdled, for at exactly 9:40 p.m. he and a number of others, on board the Maine and elsewhere around the harbor, saw a sheet of orange flame envelop the bow of the battleship. The explosion that followed was so tremendous that an eyewitness on another ship said that the Maine was lifted nearly out of the water by its force. … In the aftermath of the explosion, Private Bill realized that he had to get a message to Captain Sigsbee. He ran to the captain’s cabin in the dark. … The captain, not unaware that something had happened to the ship (he said later that he thought they were being fired upon by nearby Spanish guns), emerged from his cabin just as Private Bill arrived. In the darkness, the two men collided. … Private Bill backed off, apologized, saluted, and spoke the words that would put him into the history books.”

Those words, according to the Democrat, were: “I have the honor, sir, to report the Maine has been blown up and is sinking.” Sigsbee commended Anthony’s action in the captain’s record of the event, as transcribed in the Democrat: “The special feature in the case of this service performed by Private Anthony is that on an occasion when man’s instinct would lead him to seek safety outside the ship, he started into the superstructure and toward the cabin, irrespective of the danger. The action was a noble one and I feel it an honor to call his conduct to the attention of the recommendator that he be made a sergeant.”

Indeed, Anthony was promoted to sergeant and then, rather quickly, to sergeant major. According to Creamer, Anthony – 44 years old at the time – had served in the Marine Corps for 28 years. It is unclear what he did in the military prior to February 1898 – his service predates the Civil War – and why he remained a private for 28 years. Creamer notes promotions came slowly in those days – but apparently rapidly in the face of heroic acts – and there wasn’t much opportunity for a private to distinguish himself.

The disaster aboard the Maine killed 260 of the 328 crew members; indeed, only 16 were left uninjured. Though Anthony was listed among these 16, he received splinters in his face and through his hand when a lifeboat disintegrated in the explosion. He managed to climb into one of the remaining boats and row about the ship – in a hail of shrapnel and exploding ammunition – to look for survivors.

With no ship to serve on, Anthony subsequently was transferred to guard duty at the Brooklyn Navy Yard and given the highest enlisted rank in the Marine Corps. Anthony retired from the Marine Corps shortly after, in June 1898. Entitled to retirement pay after nearly 30 years of military service, Anthony – out of what the Democrat described as “character modesty” and fear “that the application might reflect on his superior officer who had helped him to get his rapid promotion,” Anthony declined the benefit and left the Marine Corps with no job and nothing but his name and reputation as a national hero.

Someone was looking to cash in on Anthony’s 15 minutes of fame, however, and a group of promoters convinced the Marine to take part in a play about the recently concluded Spanish American War, titled “The Red, White, and Blue.” Anthony’s role consisted of his appearing on stage in his Marine Corps uniform and reciting, “Remember the Maine!” to thunderous applause from the audience. However, the production closed quickly, as people were not ready to view a reenactment of a war they had just witnessed.

So, Anthony was once again out of work. In the interim, he got married to Adella Blancet, of Guyanoga, in October 1898. Adella had written to the national hero to seek his autograph; though he had received many such letters, for some reason Adella’s letter stood out and he wrote back to her. They soon wed and then had a son, William Jr., born in July 1898.

Following the grape harvest in the fall of 1899, Anthony left Adella and William Jr. in Guyanoga and traveled back to New York City to try to find work. He wasn’t willing to pull strings with his reputation and mention his struggle, and he lacked marketable skills outside of his military service.

On November 24, 1899, Anthony was sitting on a bench in Central Park when two police officers noticed him acting strangely with agitated behavior but also recognized who he was. Suddenly, Anthony pulled a small glass bottle out of his pocket and swallowed the contents. The officers attempted to help him, but he told them he didn’t want to be saved. Sure enough, Anthony died within an hour from an overdose of cocaine extract.

While the national hero was mourned following his shocking death, his name and reputation were quickly forgotten. Adella stayed in Yates County, and William Jr. grew up there. The son of the national hero married, became a successful farmer and vineyardist, served as Torrey town supervisor, and lived on the road that bears his family name.

In December 1942, the Navy remembered Anthony by launching the USS Anthony, a destroyer named in honor of the hero from the Maine. William Jr.’s daughters – Alice, a freshman at Keuka College, and Frances, a student at Penn Yan Academy – christened the ship bearing their grandfather’s name. In World War II, the destroyer saw action against the Japanese in the Philippines.

Interestingly, while William Jr. is buried in Evergreen Cemetery in Dresden – not too far from where Anthony Road enters the village – Anthony is buried in The Evergreens Cemetery in Brooklyn. Yates County continues to remember this non-resident who became a national hero.

[clove-pinks]

As the battle between USS Chesapeake and HMS Shannon raged in June, 1813, Chesapeake was blown into her opponent after a devasting carronade salvo, becoming temporarily hooked on a fluke of the British ship's anchor as the ships collided.

The Tars of Old England Triumphant, 1813 print (Old Print Shop, NYC).

In this close action, the Shannon's officers and crew boarded the enemy ship—and those in the fighting tops ran across yard arms, including midshipmen.

As Chesapeake’s sails began to fill the ship lurched forward. As her side scraped down the Shannon’s forward end her foreyard fouled Shannon’s briefly. Seeing a momentary opportunity, Midshipman John Smith stationed in the foremast fighting top, ran out over the yard followed by five of his topmen and onto Chesapeake’s foreyard. Fighting their way up into the enemy foretop they forced the Americans there to flee down the weather-side shrouds.

Seven men in Chesapeake’s mizzen top armed with muskets and a small howitzer were still causing great execution amongst Shannon’s boarders. Seeing this, Midshipman Philip Cosnahan across in Shannon’s main top began to pick them off one by one using a succession of loaded muskets passed down to him through the lubber’s hole.

— Martin Bibbings, "The Battle," in Broke of the Shannon and the War of 1812, edited by Tim Voelcker.

A model diorama of an early 19th century fighting top by Flagship Models.

[rabbitcruiser]

The battleship USS Maine exploded and sank in Havana harbor in Cuba, killing 274, on February 15, 1898. This event leads the United States to declare war on Spain.  

Remember the Maine Day

Today we remember the Maine, the American battleship that  blew up on today's date in 1898 while anchored in Havana Harbor.  Commanded by Captain Charles G. Sigsbee, it was one of the first  American battleships, cost more than $2 million to build, and weighed  more than 6,000 tons. Ostensibly, its mission in the harbor was  friendly, but its real purpose was to protect American lives and  property. Cuba was in the midst of rebelling from Spain, and as Cuba  sought its independence, it was believed that a full-blown war could  break out at any time. The United States had also long had its eye on  Cuba, hoping to expand its influence there and in the region.

About 350 crew members were aboard the ship on that fateful Tuesday evening. Shortly after 9 p.m., the ship's bugler, C.H. Newton,  blew taps. Around 9:40 p.m., an explosion rocked the boat. A second,  massive explosion followed, and broke apart the bow, throwing debris  over 200 feet into the air. The ship quickly sank, and approximately 266  of the ship's crew perished.

The American press immediately started pointing to an external  explosion—either by a mine or torpedo—at the hands of Spain as the cause  of the ship's demise. In March, the U.S. Naval Court of Inquiry  determined that a mine had caused the explosion, but they didn't  directly blame Spain for it. Although there wasn't enough evidence to  prove that Spain blew up the ship, the American public and members of  Congress ignored this, and put blame on them, and then called for war.  "Remember the Maine" became the war cry.

On April 25, 1898, the United States formally declared war against  Spain. By August, the United States was victorious and an armistice was  signed. The war officially ended with the signing of the Treaty of Paris  on December 10, 1898. Spain relinquished the Philippines, Puerto Rico,  and Guam to the United States. Cuba soon gained independence, but the  United States maintained a powerful influence there.

Ultimately, the cause of the explosion of the Maine is still  inconclusive. Some still believe Spain was to blame. In 1976, Adm.  Hyman Rickover of the U.S. Navy began an investigation into the cause.  The results showed that the explosion came from within the ship, likely  from a coal bunker fire. Most people agree with this assessment.

Various locations hold events for the day. A service is held at the Battleship Maine  Monument in Davenport Park in Bangor, Maine, where the shield and  scrolls recovered from the shop are located. Beginning in 2011, a group  started holding an "all-day patriotic pub crawl through historic Boston"  where participants attempt "to drink at least 266 beverages as a  festive commemoration of the 266 brave men who died on the USS Maine on  February 15, 1898, in Havana Harbor as a result of Spanish treachery."  Patriotic costumes are worn, and those who don't know the story of the Maine  are educated and encouraged to join in on the festivities. New York has  also participated in some years, and organizers have also allowed  virtual participation, so those who don't live in those cities can still  take part in a drink-filled remembering of the Maine.

How to Observe Remember the Maine Day

Here are a few ideas on how to remember the Maine:

Attend the ceremony held at the Battleship Maine Monument in Bangor, Maine. Veterans organize the event, but anyone can attend.

Visit the USS Maine National Monument in New York City or the USS Maine Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery.

Visit the Monument to Victims of the Maine in Havana, Cuba.

Attend the Remember the Maine Day patriotic pub crawl in Boston. The pub crawl has also taken place in New York City. According to the event's Facebook page,  2020 is the last year it is being held. In the past, those who can't  make it to Boston have been encouraged to celebrate virtually. If you  can't get to Boston, or if the event is no longer being held, you could  also hold your own Remember the Maine patriotic pub crawl in your community. Dress up in patriotic garb and hit the town!

View photos of and related to the Maine.

Watch a documentary about the Spanish-American War, such as Crucible of Empire: The Spanish-American War or The Spanish American War: First Intervention.

Read a book about the Maine. 

Source

[princessmisery666]

The Fall - Part 2 Under The Radar Mini Series

Summary: Jake has proven he’s an asshole; you shouldn’t be surprised when he proves it again at graduation. But at least graduating means you’ll be free of him, or does it? 

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, injury described, fluffy Rooster, sex references. 

W/C: 3k

Rating: M (mature)

Characters: Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress), some needed OC’s. 

Pairing: past Hangman x Fem!Reader, Rooster x Fem!Reader, Hangman x OFC.

Notes: no descriptions of reader body type or ethnicity. Takes place before Top Gun: Maverick. First-time recruits at Top Gun. 

A/N: I am blown away by the response to part 1, thank you for every like, reblog and comment. I hope this part doesn't disappoint.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch / all mistakes still belong to me.

Graphics: title card made by me Dividers: @writercole

Master Lists: Under The Radar // Main //

The Fall

It’s here. Finally. The day you and your fellow classmates graduate Top Gun. Jake’s assholery got you set back two weeks with having to have medicals, but you're filled with an abundance of pride that after putting in some extra work and with Rooster’s help, you’re standing beside your colleagues on the deck of the USS Enterprise. 

The speeches are finally coming to a close, you’re all congratulated and told, “now the real hard work starts,” and you can’t wait to get out there. The formalities are done, and you get to relax and celebrate with your families.

Rooster’s mom and dad have passed away, and after the Jake incident, the two of you have grown closer, so he huddles with your family. He and your father start talking about football, and you know the conversation will be a lengthy and passionate one. You catch Rooster’s eye and mouth, “are you okay?”

He winks and gives you a thumbs up with a big smile before focusing back on your dad. You take a deep breath, breathing in the atmosphere. You scan the deck of the ship, watching happy reunions of families that have been separated for a while, the proud smiles of parents and siblings. It’s electric and joyful.

“Oh, he’s a handsome one,” your mom says, and you follow the subtle point of her finger.

Jake.

Like mother, like daughter, you guess. He sees you both looking and gives a dull smile with the tiniest of waves, but you give him nothing in return - not even a dirty look. 

Jake’s tried to speak to you all of four times. But you don’t make eye contact unless you have to or by mistake and only speak to him when absolutely necessary. You don’t even bust his balls, make no snide comments or react to him in any way. You haven’t since the night you broke his nose, almost two months ago. Figures that it healed perfectly aligned with his dumb face as if nothing had ever happened. 

You turn your back on him and focus on your mother. “Yeah, that’s Jake Seresin,” you mutter. 

“Let’s go say hi,” she suggests, already making a beeline for him. “I want to meet the rest of your class.”

“No, Mom!” you say, but it's too late; she’s already five steps away and not listening. You have no choice but to chase after her.

By the time you’ve caught up, your Mom has introduced herself and is shaking Jake’s hand while he introduces her to his parents. “And this is Amelia,” he says, pointing to the pretty blonde woman beside him. You assume it's his sister. “Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, also known as Huntress.”

“Oh, hi!” Amelia says happily, rushing to clasp your hand in a friendly handshake. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t know who you are,” you shrug, “Seresin isn’t much of a sharer. Are you his sister?” 

She laughs brightly and rolls her eyes as if she’s used to the question. But the way she gently wraps her small hand around Jake’s bicep, you know before she says it aloud, your assumption is wrong. “No, I’m his girlfriend. It’ll be three years next month.”

Three years. It rings in your ears like a siren. You see Jake’s whole body tense up, and you know he’s panicking. You feel a little sick. He’s made you the other woman.

“Wow, three years. Maybe it’s time you make an honest man of him,” you jest and not so gently punch Jake on the arm. You hope you hit the nerve, and it goes numb. Amelia laughs with you, a slight blush on her cheeks.

Jake’s mom asks your mom a question and the group seems to focus on that. You can feel Jake’s eyes boring into you, and when you finally look at him, his expression is both pleading for forgiveness and thanking you for not throwing him overboard without a life jacket. He mouths, “Thank you.”

Not ‘I’m sorry.’ It makes you furious. He’s never sorry because there are never any consequences to his actions. He smiles that perfect teeth smile that makes his tanned skin glow, and everyone forgives him. Not this time. Still, you’re not going to embarrass Amelia and cause a scene.

In return, you mouth, “go fuck yourself.” You know he understands as his shoulders slump and he averts his eyes. As soon as it seems polite to do so, you excuse yourself and go in search of Rooster.

“Three years!” you practically yell at Rooster back in your dorm later that night. “Three fucking years, and she has no idea. I mean, how many women have we seen him take home?”

Rooster listens without interruption to your rant. He should be used to it by now. Outside the confines of your room, you're completely and utterly impartial to Jake. Bradley jokes that you should have an acting career because you're so good at feigning indifference, but you don’t hold back inside your dorm and when Rooster is a willing ear to vent to.

“And now he’s made me the other woman! I should go break his nose again.” 

“You should,” Bradley agrees from his spot on your bed. “I wholeheartedly agree and approve of this idea.”

You chuckle, but only because your tears for Jake Seresin ran dry a long time ago. “I’d just get my ass suspended.” 

“Okay, I take it back. I like your ass, and I don’t want to see it suspended.”

That makes you laugh properly. He’s a goofball, but he always makes you smile. He waits until you’ve stopped laughing and then looks you dead square in the eye, “as much as I love to see your ass pacing up and down while you moan about Hangman, can we open our letters now?” he asks. 

“Fuck yes,” you say, forgetting about Jake and grabbing the sealed envelopes from your nightstand.

You both rip them open and unfold the piece of paper. 

“San Diego,” you both yell simultaneously. It's the assignment you wanted.

Bradley’s smile is so broad it's almost funny, but before you can comment on how thoroughly ecstatic he looks, he’s hooked an arm around your waist and pulls you into him. His lips press against yours. For a moment, you think he’ll step back and make an overly dramatic “mwah” sound. But he doesn’t. He holds you tight, and when your arms slip around his neck, his tongue prods your bottom lip, and as soon as your tongues meet, you melt against him. 

Breathlessly, you part, and his cheeks have a crimson hue. “Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do that for a hot minute, and this just seemed like a good time. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head, clearing the shock. “Unless you don’t want to do it again?”

“I absolutely want to do it again,” he says and follows through in doing it.

There’s a loud knock on your door, and you both jump apart as if whoever it is can see through the wood. You look at one another and burst into a fit of laughter before you open it. 

It’s Jake. Not surprisingly, the laughter dies immediately.

“Y/N, let me,” he starts, but you're already closing the door on him until he slams his palm against it. “Let me explain, please.”

“I don’t need an explanation, Seresin. I already know you’re an asshole. I shouldn’t be surprised when you demonstrate it time and time again.”

“Hey, Bagman,” Bradley calls from behind you. “What assignment did you get?” 

“San Diego,” he smiles, smug as if he expects he’s the only one.

Fuck! Now there’s really no escaping him. 

“Us too,” Bradley answers for you, and Jake’s face loses its color a second before you slam the door closed. 

A few months later. 

The adrenaline is still pumping through his veins when he watches you step off the helicopter. The mission failed; Jake fucked it up trying to prove a point. A point he no longer remembers needed to be made, and as a consequence, you had to bail. The few seconds between ejection and seeing your chute were the longest of his life.

He wants to hug you. To make sure you’re real, that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, and you’re not actually burning in the fireball that became your jet. He can’t. He won’t because he knows you’d more than likely break his nose again if he ever tried. Still, that wouldn’t hurt more than the heat of your disregard toward him.

He’s not sure how to explain it but losing you, you not talking to him, it’s like a deathless death. Numbing and dark. And he desperately wants to be revived. 

As you get closer, he sees the scratches on your cheek, a rip above the left knee of your jumpsuit, a nasty-looking cut still oozing red, making you limp. It must have been a hard landing, he suspects, amongst trees.

“Huntress,” he says. You look through him. There’s that indifference shining through. You don’t even care enough to call him out on his shit for screwing up the mission. That’s probably what hurts the most - your indifference to him. “Y/N, please,” he pleads. 

Despite the pain it must cause, you stand to attention, and Jake sees Admiral Hart over his shoulder and immediately does the same, falling in line next to you. 

“We lost comms. What the hell happened out there?” Admiral Hart asks. 

This is it - strike number three. Jake will have his marching orders and be gone before the sun sets. 

“I made a miscalculation, sir,” you say before Jake can. Jake looks at you, and your expression is non-negotiable. You’ve chosen to tell the lie, and he has to go along with it. It will only land you both in more hot water if he contradicts you now. Still, you're taking a risk. Neither of you knows at which point communication was lost, so you could be digging your own grave.

Yet you keep shoveling. “I made a bad decision, and it cost us the mission. I’m sorry, sir.” 

“Sorry?” He shouts. “Nine months of planning and infiltration just went up in smoke, along with your eighty million dollar jet, and you’re sorry?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, and you both remain silent.

“You’re done here. Lieutenant Seresin, escort Lieutenant Y/L/N to medical, then back to the dorm to gather her things and directly to my office,” he commands before focusing his gaze on you. “I’ll have a new assignment for you by then.”

“Sir,” Hangman starts, but you take a step forward and interrupt him, speaking louder, “I understand, sir.”

Jake’s trying, he really is, but you can’t bring yourself to forgive or forget. It’s all still too raw. Every time you see him, you fight the urge to shy away with embarrassment. You're not embarrassed about the things you did. The things you're into are nothing to be ashamed about. But you are ashamed that you opened up and trusted someone who so very clearly didn’t deserve to see those parts of you, emotionally or physically.

Though you never respond when Jake brings it up, he just kind of talks at you; he’s still never said he’s sorry. Not that you’d ever believe him if he did apologize. 

So why did you step up and take the blame for something he did?

You knew the fuck up was enough to be reassigned. No doubt you’ll be grounded for some time too. So why take the punishment when Jake deserves it and more? 

You tell yourself it's the reassignment, knowing there was a way out, a way to be free of him without giving some weak ass excuse and asking for a transfer.

“Y/N,” Jake says as you limp your way toward the Admiral’s office, bag slung over your shoulder. “I’m going to come clean.” 

“No, you’re not!” you snap, still facing forward, refusing to look at him. “We’ll both be punished, and where’s the sense in that?” 

“Where's the sense in you taking the fall for me?”

“Cause it gives me an out,” you admit. “I get to get the hell away from you, and there’s no price too high to pay for that.” 

He stops dead in his tracks, and you continue walking. “You don't even care enough to hate me, do you?” Jake asks.

His tone carries so much sorrow, and it’s begging you to disagree. You almost feel sorry for him. But you tell yourself you feel nothing for him. 

“Nope,” you say, without missing a beat. “I’d say it was nice knowing you, Seresin, but I’d be lying.” You throw a peace sign over your shoulder.

Admiral Hart must take pity on you as he allows you to say goodbye to Bradley. He’s pacing the common room when you eventually find him.

“What the hell happened?” he asks, seeing you limping, and rushes toward you to help. He cups your face assessing the scratches and bruises forming. “Some guys said the mission was a bust, and you had to eject?” 

“I did, but I’m fine,” you reassure him, “I busted my knee up pretty good, but otherwise, I’m good.” 

“What happened?” 

Hangman. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say and avert your eyes.

“Y/N,” Bradley tries again, knowing your avoidance in answering means something. 

You sigh and drop to a seat on the arm of the nearest chair. You don’t want to get into yet another discussion about Hangman. There are only so many times you can confirm someone is an asshole, and you’re running out of colorful ways to say it. “You know what happened.” 

“Hangman,” he asses correctly. “He fucked up and blamed you.” 

“He didn’t blame me,” you're quick to say. “I told them it was me.”

“Why?”

You don’t know how to answer that in a way that makes any sense, so you stay quiet. 

“Y/N!” 

“Bradley, can we not?” you ask, volume raised. “I don’t have much time. Transport is waiting.” 

“Transport?”

“They grounded me for a year, and I’m being reassigned.”

“What? No. That's not fair.” he starts to ramble about Hangman and how he needs to step up and take responsibility. He’s so animated, arms flailing, pacing back and forth, fists clenching and unclenching. “I can’t lose you. Not now. Not when I’ve just got you.”

“Bradley, Bradley,” you coo, standing in his path and putting your hand on his cheek. “I’ve been reassigned to Maverick.”

His relationship with Maverick is strained at the best of times, but you wanted him to hear the news from you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We don’t have any time, do we?” Bradley asks sorrowfully.

No, you don’t. You’ve only really just started your relationship, it’s been tough to find time with training and being in a new place, but you were working on it. There’s a deep pit in your stomach, and it dawns on you, perhaps too late, that your desire to be free of Hangman has cost you, Bradley. You want to take it all back, go to the Admiral and tell the truth, but you’re not sure if the punishment for lying will be worse. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice cracking, and he dips to kiss you softly. 

“We’ll make it work,” he whispers, “I swear. We’ve got some time off coming up; we can go on vacation.”

“We’ll make it work,” you promise the same before he kisses you harder and deeper.

Six months later.

It’s nice to be back on the old stomping grounds. The Hard Deck hasn’t changed, and Hangman hopes it never does. The nostalgia is rampant. A memory of you surfaces in every corner he looks into, making him smile.

The jukebox, where you spent a few hours discussing music and kissing him whenever your opinions aligned. The bathroom, where unbeknownst to Coyote and Rooster as they sang a warbled version of “Danger Zone,” you gave him the best head of his life. He can’t hear that song without his cock twitching. The beach where you broke his nose. Even that, as painful as it was, makes him smile because it was a time when you cared enough to hate him.

He throws the third dart and hits the bullseye, the point embedding next to the other two. “That’s a fluke,” Coyote states, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I’m just that good, my friend.” 

Coyote retrieves the darts and hands them back to him, holding a hand over his eyes as he lines up the next shot. Bullseye. 

“Ah, here comes trouble!” Coyote calls across the bar just as Jake prepares to fire again.

Jake turns to watch you maneuver through the crowd toward them, and Coyote steps up to envelop you in a hug. “What’s up, Y/L/N?” he greets.

“Surviving, Machado,” you reply, coming out of the embrace. You catch his eye and nod once, “Lieutenant Seresin.”

“Oh, someone’s still mad,” he jests to cover the seething jealousy that he can’t greet you in the same way.

“Water under the bridge,” you say, to his surprise. But there’s still an edge to your tone as if you’re saying it because you have to, not because you genuinely want to. 

“Wow, okay,” he smiles. 

“But I’m sure if anyone can find a way to burn that bridge, it's you, Hangman,” Rooster says, coming up behind him. 

“Oh, I have no doubt,” you laugh and high-five Rooster.

It’s nice to be back on the old stomping grounds, but he realizes nothing has changed. He’s still hung up on you, and he still despises the relationship you have with Rooster.

Part 3 - Just A Kiss

Oh imagine that a handy reblog button....

[lonestarbattleship]

On February 6, 1897, when USS MAINE (ACR-1) was off Havana Harbor, Cuba two men were washed overboard.

"The Franklin life buoys were dropped, and one of the men, GM3 Charles Hassell, reached one of them. The other man, Leonard G. Kogal, was drowned. In the meantime, Landsman Chas J. Crestman had jumped in to save them. Crestman swam to and reached the same buoy which was already supporting Hassel. A whale boat in charge of ensign Gherardim, with a crew of volunteers, was lowered, but in the high seas was unable to accomplish anything and they were taken back on abandoning both. By this time the two men on the buoy had been lost sight of, but their bearings had been carefully kept and the ship steaming in that direction soon made the lights on the buoy and by the exercise of the utmost skill and care the men were finally given life lines and hauled aboard. Crestman was afterwards transferred to USS AMPHITRITE (M-2) and qualified for a Gunners Mate. Hassel lost his life in Havana Harbor when MAINE was blown up."

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command: NH 46769

[mckinleygirl98]

hes got this look in his eyes like he's gonna lunge at the camera

i downloaded this purely because of how much Sadness is in ida's eyes. oh my god poor girl she looks like shes about to cry

[mckinleygirl98]

IDA

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Stabbed- Day 5- Bones Whumptober

After seeing to the injured red shirt, he felt a pang of guilt that he didn't know his name, Leonard turned towards the fight happening a few metres away. Jim was occupied by 2 large opponents, using his strange but effective moves. Spock was stoic in the corner, not acting too often but his moves were powerful when he did. 

Despite this, though, Leonard knew that he'd have to help if they were going to win, even if he had a Hippocratic oath to keep to. 

The mission had been a simple one, the story of his life at this point. It was a simple rescue of trapped crewmembers from the USS Venture, a small science-focused ship. But, the locals, of which they had no idea there were any, didn't seem too friendly with foreign invaders coming into their land- despite them only coming to save them from a rock slide.

As per usual, they tried to be diplomatic but the locals saw no appeal in the idea. Now they were fighting. It had happened so many times it was strange when a mission went perfectly right.

Leonard jogged to the main fight and was immediately spotted by a local who was seething with rage and looked disappointed that everyone was occupied. He was made of muscle and at least another half of him tall. 

The local sprinted to him across the dead grass and rock and threw a strong punch towards him. Leonard ducked at the last moment. He knew his skills were rusty but his defence wasn't too bad. He hoped he could, at least, rely on them until they were either beamed up or the fight was over.

As the local threw another punch, he ducked again, trying this a few times with a smile on his face at his unlikely success. 

"Would you look at that? I ain't doing too bad," he said to himself. "And I have barely any fightin' training,"

The local growled and watched him dance around his punches. Leonard looked towards the others for a second, saw Jim beat one of his opponents, and got knocked to the ground.

He jumped to his feet, feeling the impact of the blow on his shoulder as he tried to get air back into his lungs again. Part of his shirt was ripped but luckily no blood.

The local had upped his game. Maybe this was why Jim came back with ripped shirts a lot because his fighting style of quips and punches pissed people off.

More punches were thrown his way, some of which landed. Leonard's beginner's luck didn't last too long.

Every time he rose again, it took a little longer. The wind was blown out of him every few minutes and the certainty in his steps was going when he found his feet again. His head was swimming and lack of expertise showing to the opponent.

The local pushed him when he got to his feet again. Leonard caught the next punch as it came but missed the sweep of the local's leg that sent him sprawling to the floor.

At the last moment, he caught himself. Their fight had been moving back to where the redshirt he'd just healed was, moving towards the jagged rock he'd put between them and the fight as a defence while he checked the man's injuries.

The local pulled him up by his electric blue shirt. Wafts of foul-smelling breath hit him as he spoke in his native tongue. Despite not understanding the words, the sounds were spat at him, harsh and violent just as he plunged a knife into his abdomen.

Leonard let out a scream and saw, in his peripheral vision, Jim and Spock turn to him. His head grew dizzier, mouth stained metallic as he spat up blood. The pain from the stab wound radiated around his body, he could try to think of all the vital places he'd just hit, but his already dizzy head couldn't think.

"Captain, see to Leonard and get us beamed up immediately, I will see to the others," Spock ordered from far away.

Jim nodded just as his opponent squared him in the jaw, sending him flying to the ground. He caught himself before his head hit the rock and pushed himself towards Leonard.

"Redshirt," Leonard wheezed from his position on the ground. "You gotta get the redshirt over there,"

He pointed as Jim took off his golden-yellow shirt and tied it around his waist, against the stab wound now void of a knife and leaking blood at an alarming rate. Jim sprinted to the redshirt behind the rock, shouting unto his communicator at Scotty to beam them up.

Trying to keep himself conscious, Leonard looked at Spock as he threw calculated punches and nerve pinched the remaining locals. 

Once they were all dealt with, Jim ran back with the hobbling redshirt. Scotty was yelling back over the communicator as Spock arrived. Leonard felt his body separate from him as the transporter teleported him away while the world around him fell into black.

~~

Bright lights fogged his already pounding head when he awoke. Jim was by his side, with a new, not blood-stained, yellow shirt. Leonard looked down to see him wearing a hospital gown. 

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty," Jim whispered, pouring him a glass of water. 

"How long was I out for?" He asked. 

"A day,"

Leonard nodded and gulped down the water. His throat was scratchy but luckily, the pain in his abdomen was gone. He reached down to the wound but Jim pulled his hand away.

"They got everything cleared up in surgery, you're going to stay here for about a week and then you should be good to go, but only light work,"

Leonard reached for Jim's hand, it felt warm in his as he stroked it. Jim's face was pale, eyes slightly red. He lifted his other hand to stroke his hair and let out a quiet sob.

"I never knew why you scolded me so much after all my incidents. I guess now I understand because all I want to say is 'What were you thinking?'" He rubbed his eyes. "You're a doctor, you don't have fighting training, why did you think it was a good idea to go against the biggest guy?"

"I didn't go for him, he went for me,"

Jim rolled his eyes, "I've used that one before,"

"But he really did,"

"Doesn't mean it still wasn't stupid to go and fight!"

Jim smiled as he rested his head next to Leonard's on the bed. "I'm not used to being the one who scolds, I'm used to being the one half awake in the hospital bed,"

"Yeah, well don't get used to it, I don't like getting stabbed,"

"I don't either," Jim said. "I just have a very stabbable body!"

It was Leonard's turn to laugh, now. His head was still spinning, eyes felt ready to shut at any moment. But all he could focus on was how lucky he was, lucky to have Jim by his side and an amazing medical crew to save him.

But he would take Jim's advice. His fighting days were over. 

I'm excited to write more for this! I've planned all of the fics I'll write (this one is pre-written). Plus I'm also doing trektober 2021 so I managed to plan everything so I can get everything written and hopefully not too stressed out. But I do like these challenges, it gets me to think about ideas more and I just get to write more in general! I hope you enjoyed it!

[mckinleygirl98]

HIIIIII PRESIDENT MCKINLEY HIII

@mckinleygirl98

[tellywoodtrash]

naagin5 08.11.20 lb

on popular demand! won’t be capping much unless the scene really needs a visual cue, so just stream of consciousness kinda bs.

IF I HAD A RUPEE FOR EVERYTIME THIS USELESS BITCH TALKED ABOUT BEING AN AAAAADI NAAGIN AND THEN DOING NOTHING TO ACT LIKE IT, THEN I’D BE AN AMBANI. AT LEAST ANIL.

same, jai. same.

naagvansh ki raksha my ass. she let so many snakes get blown up in yest’s ep. fucking dumbass. 

“hum jaante hain ki hum kya kar rahein hain!” lmaooooo really? coulda fooled me. y’all literally fucking up every single thing you touch. name one thing that’s gone right in the last 25 episodes for you.

cheelanshu needs to take bani to his therapist. she seems to have inherited anger issues from previous tv husband.

BITCH SAY YOU’RE AADI NAAGIN ONE MORE TIME I DARE YOU

oh ho husband has been exempt from sazaa. not at all a biased decision.

lmaoooooooooooooo jai having a tantrum always makes me lol.

andar daddyjiiiiiiii also throwing tantrum about betaji’s pati dharam stand.

I LOVE HOW NO ONE, INCLUDING VEER HIMSELF, GIVES ONE FUCK ABOUT HIS STAB WOUND TO THE HEART. DO CHEELS NOT HAVE THEIR HEARTS IN THE USUAL PLACE OR WHAT???????

here i change fictional tv boyfriends on a weekly basis and this dude sticking with the same chick from satyug onwards. hardcore salaam to this dude’s relationship counselor. excellent work being done with him.

lmao the dad is thissssssssss 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 close to chonch maar-ing his dumbass lovesick son.

"bass uss aadi naag ko marr jaaana chahiye, jab dekho phiss phiss karke beech mein aa jaata hai. phateechar, dharti ka bhoj. ek baat bataiye, satyug mein bhi yeh itna irritating tha???”  snorttttttttt. the exasperation with jai’s existence is reallllllllllllllll.

dad’s like BRO HE’S NOT THE ONE YOU HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT

veer so fucking lattooooo for his wife that he’s calling her AADI SHAKTI and all. beta thoda too much ho gaya.

lmao dad’s like TU IS SHAKTI KA SHIV NAHI HAI, AUR BANNE KI KOSHISH BHI MAT KARNA.

lol every time bani calls him daddyyyyyjiiiiiii, this dude’s lifespan reduces by 4 years.

"sweetheart, dekho tumhare wajah se mujhe itni daant pad rahi hai! pehle bol deti ki aadi naagin ho, main dad ko pata leta!” adslkfjldskjflsdkjfdf this fuckerrrrrrrrrrrr

dang veer baba offering daddy a damn good reason for keeping bani around here.

PONKY AUR MAYURI KI SHAADI OH LORD THE BRIDE IS DEAD

BTW I’M HELLA PISSED ABOUT THAT, I LIKED MAYURI AS A CHARACTER, SHE WAS FUN TO WATCH. certainly more so than stupid bani.

shukar he at least winced at the stab wound. main sochi wolverine style heal bhi ho gaya ab tak.

ohhhhh dangggggg ponky knows ki bhaabi is khatarnaak cheeeez and has to do with mayuri’s sudden disappearance.

lolllllllllllll veer’s halka halka call for mayuri just for formality’s sake.

oh boy we have a zombie morni on our hands????? (now there’s a show i’d watch!)

this is someone else (prolly jai) as mayuri right? he has practice being her.

simping for wife seems to be in the cheel blood. ponky is very distraught mayuri is leaving.

oooooooh daddyji knows it might be jai.

THIS IS YOUR BIG TEST??????? KNOWING WHO HER BEST FRIEND IS?????

hahahahahahahahahahahaha veer doing the “kat gayaa” gesture in the bg as ponky gets hung up on.

OMFG JAI BORIYA BISTAR UTHAAKE CHALA AAYA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA VEER’S FACEEEEEE

maaan na maan, aadi naag mehmaan.

“OH BIN MAANGE MILNE WAALE DAHEJ” BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

lmaooooooooooooooooo this is gonna be hella fun, these two idiots living under the same roof.

ASLKJDSALKJDLSAKJDLASKJ THE DAD LIKE MERA GHAR HAI KOI MUJHSE BHI TOH POOCHO KI IF I WANT THESE FUCKING SNAKES HERE?!?!?!?!  lmaooooooo i really feel bad for him. he didn’t want one snake in the house and now in a matter of minutes he’s got two!!!

cheel daddy pursing his lips in frustration when bani is giving her thakela lecture is The Biggest Mood

do minute pehle she was like this shaadi was your manmaani, now she’s telling that tumse shaadi karna meri khud ki marzi thi. nahi behen, decide karlo tum, ki kis side pe ho. yeh nahi trump supporters ki taraah stop the count bhi chila rahi ho aur count all votes bhi.

ofc this kinky fucker would get turned on by her revenge threats.

ok i’m bored with this scene now and fwding.

blah blah bani asking how jai knew mayuri’s best friend him hmmm hawwing blah blah dc fwding.

BANI YOU DUMBASS INSTEAD OF FIGHTING WITH VEER THINK OF HOW JAI KNEW THAT WAS MAYURI’S ROOM GOD SHE’S LITERALLY SO STUPID SHE MAKES RIDDHIMA LOOK LIKE A MENSA CANDIDATE

lol jai and veer’s stupid pissing contest finally got to bani and she walked off

“dhaabe waale!!!!”

“AADI NAAG HOON MAIN! IZZAT SE BAAT KAR!”

“kshama karna chaepppp ji!” aslkdjaslkdjaslkdjas

“main bani se bohut pyaar karta hoon, chaahe woh naagin ho ya baaghi.”  huh. is veer considered a furry (even tho bani has scales not fur) coz he’s into a whole other species?????????

lmao all the different cheel boys and their reactions at cheel daddy’s MY HOUSE IS FILLED WITH MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES meltdown. tapish (my fave) like yiiiiiiiiiiikes, daksh is pouring himself a drink, ponky is sitting in a corner sadly kissing his ring, while monil is ragging on him.

cheel daddy bringing in the big guns: MARKAAAAAAAAT

interesting how they’re all referring to markaat as male when yest it was a female voice. we love a gender ambiguous shadow demon!

ouffff i don’t really care about this basement lady.

don’t care about bani’s 8th i ammmmm aadi naagin speech of the hour either. 

ohohohohohoh power of mangalsutra scene bhi ghusa diya beech mein.

i’d say it’s huge progress that she’s stopped wanting to murder veer. honestly proud of you, sis.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand she’s back on not trusting him. god she’s just sooooooo fucking irritating.

THIS IS HER PRIORITY RN????????? TO FIND OUT WHAT’S BEHIND THIS TEHKHANA DOOR???? DUDE. YOU JUST HAD A LONGASS DAY FILLED WITH MULTIPLE MURDER ATTEMPTS. CAN YOU JUST GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP????

sasur bahu faceoffffffffffff. chalo kuch toh novelty.

blah blah blah she’s too nosy for her own damn good, fwding.

24TH I AM AADI NAAGIN SPEECH OF THE DAY DUDE PLS JUST STOPPPPPPPPPPPPP

oufffffffffffffffffffffff these two idiots fighting over her like she’s an objecttttttttt. WHERE’S YOUR I AM AADI NAAGIN HEAR ME ROAR HISSSSSSSS POWER NOW, B????????

lmaooooooooooooo chaepu champakkkkkkk

“toh aur kya bulaaaon, chaeppu champak chomu???? woh kya hai, jo log baar baar haarte haina, unhe JAIIIIIIIIIII naam se nahi bula sakte!” lmaooooooooooo

THESE TWO FUCKING IDIOTSSSSSSSSSSS

lol this is the only time i have related to bani’s character, ever.

omg just make this the whole showwwwww. these two dumbasses trading playground insults. there’s a show i’d watch fucking everyyyyyy dayyyyyyyyy.

lmao cheel naagin households mein bhi navratre mein non-veg waale issues. universal problem this is, no matter what species.

daksh trying to taunt naagin bhaabi who has a knife in her hand. not the smartest move.

i love how tapish looks like he’s barely trying to keep from laughing. i like him. i hope his character doesn’t become OTT evil. i’d like to see him have a brotp with bani.

lol baby cheels got scared away with bhaabi’s snake eyes.

lmao, jai is here. now it’s gonna be a good morninggggg.

“shakkar lene jaa rahi hoon. KOI MERE PEECHE NAHI AAYEGA!” lololololololol

“baith jaa! juice pass kar!”

“abbe chaepu champak, tera juice bana doonga!” pfffffffffffffft

ohhhhhhhhh boyyyyyy, ponkyyyy and monil were the ones who raped and killed noor.

i was sad when i saw the promo this week had monil being killed coz he was the smiliest himbo and i liked him, but yeah, idc if bani kills him now. fuck them being “babies”. kill them rapey cheels!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHY IS THIS SHUKLA SO DEFERENTIAL TO JAI???????? IDGI. like shakura, jai had some magic key or some shit, but why are mayuri and shukla soooooooo obedient????

anyway veer need to catch themmmmm alreadyyyy and fuck them up.

oh hi meera. looking hot.

meera isn’t meera, it’s bani.

TIME’S UP, MONIL!!!!!!!!!!!! ROT IN HELL, FUCKER.

oh god jai’s saying “interesting!” aage “veryyyyyyyyyyy interesting!” bhi bol deta toh screen ke andar ghus ke maarti main usse.

tharak gonna be the death of you monil.

why did she turn back into her bani form??? don’t the cheels have some power to see the last image in a dead person’s eyes or some shit? veer used it to find out jai was alive. why wouldn’t they do that thing when it’s one of their own that’s killed????/

CAN’T SAY I’M NOT ENJOYING BANI DROWNING A RAPIST. GO AADI NAAGIN, YESSSSSS BITCH, KILL HIM.

jaiiiiiiiiiiiiiii i swear to god you’re suchhhhhhh a naarad muniiii, ainvayi mein chugli kar ke uksaata hai. you’re a snake in a whole other way.

why did she have to turn into snake to dasssofy him? she dassofied mayuri in her human form???? nothing in this show makes sense to me.

basement aunty stomping away to god’s glory and distracting frmo important rapist murdering tasks here.

today in naagin5 and immj2 are companion pieces:

colors pe har show mein sink ke neeche koi qaid hai kya/??? someone tell me what’s the status in choti sardaarni and pinjra. oh my god is it happening in big boss too???? is some poor D list celeb stuck under the wash basin plumbing in hopes of winning obscene amounts of money????????

monil trying to leverage saying i’ll take you wherever the sound’s coming from, and lmao bani’s like bitch i know the way too. shut up and lie here till i come back to kill your ass.

cheeeeee, why she decide to go through the dirtyass pipesssss???

and yet again, the pipe of the sink has just opened into one random space in the basement. THIS IS NOT HOW MODERN PLUMBING WORKS YOU FUCKSSSSSSSS

why is she so shocked to discover someone captured here? who did she think was crying and making the noises to be let out? someone who’s in there WILLINGLY???????? god. dung for brains, honestly.

phew ok this took too fucking long don’t expect me to do this ever again. night night.

[sophisticauthor]

USS. Lewis & Clark. Mission Status: Failure

     There were only three things Lorna knew at the moment: Her father was a drunkard, her mission was a failure, and the autonav in her pod was not working like it said it was.

     Spare parts were kept in the closet on Deck 5. This was not a decision that Lorna made, it was made for her by people who knew nothing about mechanical engineering. So while she was on Deck 5 fetching new wires to reconnect the thermometer to the TGAS, her father was a sitting duck in the Engine Room watching the heat and crossing his fingers for no problems.

     Lorna only hesitated a moment. There weren’t a lot of windows on Deck 5. Windows were a luxury for the paying residents and the Command Team, who got large bay windows to see for miles, light-years even, up on Deck 1. But windows were expensive because they have to be so thick, so it was not a luxury often given to the lowly engineers on Deck 5.

     But there was one. It was small, and miserable, and the edges shimmered with engine oil, left behind by gloved and grimy fingers. There were no bolts on the surface - the window was inlaid to the wall for obvious reasons - but had there been, they would have collected enough grease by now to spin themselves loose. The glass - or the first layer of plastic on the inside, at least - was often clouded and had to be wiped clean to see anything. Not that there was ever anything much to see besides the empty blackness and distant stars: an inky blackness - not unlike the ocean back on earth - that seems to corrupt and steal what little light exists. There was never anything to see out the dirty porthole but the terrifying absence of life. But today there was something new, and so Lorna hesitated, just for a moment, to look out the window.

     The planet in the distance must have been very large, because it seemed like it was passing very slowly. Streaks of purple and billows of white roamed lazily over a deep blue that seemed to never end. This neon bubble of spinning glass that rolled endlessly in circles around a star she could not see, lit up the emptiness of her dotted skyline; and it occurred to her that she did not remember the last time she saw something so blue. She didn’t know its name, but she was sure it had one. It looked shiny and cold, like a bottle filled with floating glitter.

     Her trance was broken by a sudden lurch and the sound of wind. She took off running. What had gone wrong? There was a flash of light and a brief sound of what would have been the fire alarm, before the lights shut off altogether. And then the gravity shut off too. She was not worried about that. In twenty seconds the auxiliary power would cut in and turn that all back on. What worried her was that she could not get to the Main Engine Room fast enough. She was floating on inertia right now, trying to find a surface to kick off from to go faster until the gravity turned itself on again. She couldn’t reach any, so she flailed, and counted, for twenty seconds until she plummeted to the ground again.

     She pulled herself off the floor and ignored the tools that clattered to the ground around her, leaving an echoing thud that was only overshadowed by the oncoming heat. The first thing she noticed was the smoke, and then the brightness of the flame. She stepped through the threshold of the Engine Room and called out above the inferno for her father, but there was no response. He must have left and let this happen. She backed out of the room and punched the door lock on the wall beside her. It wasn’t until the door slid shut, and made silent the roar of the fire, that she even heard the speaker.

     “Come in! Come in! Status report! This is your captain speaking! Come in!”

     She pushed the intercom button. “I’m sorry, Captain. The whole room is on fire. We can’t put it out.”

     “We’ll have to vent the airlock.” Came the reply.

     “Already sealed. Just waiting your action.” No sooner had the words been spoken than the window to the Engine room darkened.

     Lorna moved to see what was happening as she heard the captain say “Ten to venting airlock.” Her eyes widened as she saw the sweaty, smoke darkened face of her father glaring back at her.

     Her hand flashed back to the intercom button. “Captain, wait! I don’t think we got everyone out!”

     “It’s too late.”

     She watched the face of her father with horror. He put his middle finger up to the brown-streaked window before turning and throwing the flask she thought she had so carefully hidden into the inferno behind him. She ducked down and felt the whole ship lurch again. She covered her ears and shook her head. It was a moment before she noticed the com again.

     “ . . . telling us that there’s too much damage. Status report.” She stood on shaky legs and peered through the window at the charred remains of the stabilizer engine. It was hard to make out through the clouds of smoke that had painted the window with ash before being blown into space.

     “I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare stabilizer in your pocket.” She surprised herself with how calm she sounded, though she was shaking all over. There was a sort of hissing noise as a response, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the captain or the com.

     The ship’s lights dimmed, and started flashing blue. A soothing voice came from overhead saying “Please make your way calmly to an escape pod, where a crew member will assist you.” Lorna reckoned there was frantic scrambling on the upper decks, screaming she could not hear. But down on Deck 5, it was silent except for the voice of the Emergency Protocol Voice. Because down on Deck 5, she was alone. She stumbled through the hallways and up the stairs to Deck 3, where they kept the faculty escape pods. There was one left that seated two, meant for her and her father. It would only ever seat one now.

     The buttons and display were easy to follow. Set the coordinates for Earth, and press launch. But the last thing she noted before the stasis feature programmed into the pod put her under was that her ship was not following the fleet of escape pods filled with the other settlers. And she reckoned that was one way to get out of giving a detailed report on the engine’s failure.

[mckinleygirl98]

ooooh i haven't seen the middle one SAVED TYY

hiii emma <3 <3

you can always find emma goldman if you just look at her upper lip.

[47burlm]

Eternal Father, strong to save, Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep; Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea!

History's Mystery: What Sank the Navy Submarine USS Thresher? 

Key point: Bad parts were most likely to blame for the sub's untimely demise.

What sank Thresher? The best available theory is the extensive use of silver brazing on piping throughout the ship. An estimated three thousand silver-brazed joints were present on the ship, and the theory goes that up to four hundred of them had been improperly made. Experts believe that a pipe carrying seawater experienced joint failure in the aft engine spaces, shorting out one of the main electrical bus boards and causing a loss of power.

In the United States Navy, submarines lost at sea are said to be on “eternal patrol.” One such submarine was USS Thresher. Meant to be the first in a new generation of fast nuclear-attack submarines, today it rests in more than eight thousand feet of water, along with its crew. Thresher is one of two American submarines lost since the end of World War II.

The Threshers were designed to be fast, deep-diving nuclear attack submarines. They were the second class, after the pioneering Skipjack class, designed with the new streamlined hull still in use today. They were the first submarines to use high strength HY-80 steel alloy, which was used through the 1980s on the Los Angeles class.The submarines were just 278 feet long, with a beam of thirty-one feet. They weighed 4,369 tons submerged, making them about 30 percent larger than the Skipjacks. Their S5W pressurized water reactor drove two steam turbines, which turned a single propeller to a combined thirty-thousand-shaft horsepower. This gave them a surface speed of twenty knots, and thirty knots submerged. This was a noticeable improvement over the underwater speed of the older Skate class, which could manage only twenty-two knots underwater.

On April 9th, 1963, USS Thresher was conducting dive tests 220 miles east of Cape Cod. Though it had been in service for two years, the U.S. Navy was still attempting to determine the true strength of its hull. At the time of the incident it was reportedly at a test depth of 1,300 feet, with the submarine rescue ship USS Skylark waiting above. Onboard were its standard complement of sixteen officers and ninety-six enlisted, plus seventeen civilian contractors on board to observe the tests.

At 9:13 a.m., fifteen minutes after reaching test depth, Thresher reported to Skylark, “Experiencing minor difficulties. Have positive up angle. Am attempting to blow [ballast tanks]. Will keep you informed.” Two more garbled messages followed, then a sound “like air rushing into an air tank.” Thresher was never heard from again. Its hull was found at the bottom of the ocean, under a mile and a half of water, ruptured into six pieces.

What sank Thresher? The best available theory is the extensive use of silver brazing on piping throughout the ship. An estimated three thousand silver-brazed joints were present on the ship, and the theory goes that up to four hundred of them had been improperly made. Experts believe that a pipe carrying seawater experienced joint failure in the aft engine spaces, shorting out one of the main electrical bus boards and causing a loss of power.But a loss of electrical power was only half of the problem.

According to Navy testimony provided in 2003 to the House Science Committee, the crew was unable to access vital equipment to stop the flooding. As the submarine took on water, the ballast tanks failed to operate. Investigators believe restrictions on the air system and excessive moisture in the air system led to a buildup of ice in the ballast valves, preventing them from being blown and counteracting the effects of the flooding.