Re: Inexorable Altercation [Round II - Armada]
07-28-2010, 01:35 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
It seemed obvious, in retrospect, that the one thing he'd actively decided not to bring was the thing that would have been most useful right now. At the time, it had been a supremely logical and reasonable decision, and, given the same circumstances, he would've made it again in a heartbeat. There had simply been no reason to bring it, given the knowledge he'd had at the time.
This did not, of course, mean that he didn't regret not bringing Van Kulmer's Visual Guide to Historical Technologies. With it, he could have potentially identified the century (or even decade, if he was lucky) from which these vessels hailed, and from there, he could have cross-referenced with any of the several histories he had thought to bring to potentially determine, down to the date, which battle this had been.
This all assumed, of course, that this was an actual historic battle and not some simulated generic scenario designed solely for the purposes of this competition. There was no way to know, really- whoever it was that had abducted him from the Timeless was advanced enough to do so through all the various shields he'd developed over the iterations, and they'd done it without causing any detectable spatial anomalies. He'd simply vanished, replaced by what had appeared to be an average sampling of the nearby atmosphere. If they could manage that, he had no doubts that they were capable of generating an artificial section of ocean and populate it with a variety of appropriate seaships.
Of course, when it came to useful knowledge, it meant he was up the proverbial creek. The gravity was Earth normal, the atmosphere was basic pre-industrial fare, and the variations in the passage of time was within typical levels, given the tides. As far as he was concerned, it might have actually been Earth in whatever century it appeared to be.
So he holstered his Data Reader and looked at the ship around him. He wasn't exactly experienced when it came to seaships, but he'd spent years living solely aboard a spaceship, and the principles were likely the same.
First order of business, then, was inter-ship travel. Moving to the edge, he saw that the nearest ship, while close, was still a good five meters away at least. He wouldn't be crossing that gap on his own. That left closing it. It only took a moment for him to gather up a bundle of rope and, after a few tries with different things tied to the end, he managed to get one rope across. Another soon followed, and a third and fourth joined them in quick succession.
That done, he tried his first idea. He didn't really have much of an idea about the resistance he would encounter, so it seemed perfectly reasonable: a simple pull would exert an equal pull on the two ships, moving them closer together. Unfortunately, his guess at the resistance was much lower than what it actually was, resulting in nothing more than a bit of a pathetic swaying motion.
His second idea, a bridge between the two ships, was scrapped in planning. There wasn't exactly an abundance of excess material around, and the distance, while relatively small, was still longer than any individual length of wood he could find.
Idea three, as is often the case, bore more fruit, albeit rather indirectly. While wandering the deck, looking for supplies for a potential slingshot, his thoughts turned to the rigging of the ship, which actually extended over the side a ways. A workable idea formed in an instant, and mere seconds later, he was swinging across to the next ship over.
A few moments later, he was swinging back- his destination ship was a dead end, with nowhere to swing from on the other side. Hopefully, the other direction would be a bit more fruitful.
It seemed obvious, in retrospect, that the one thing he'd actively decided not to bring was the thing that would have been most useful right now. At the time, it had been a supremely logical and reasonable decision, and, given the same circumstances, he would've made it again in a heartbeat. There had simply been no reason to bring it, given the knowledge he'd had at the time.
This did not, of course, mean that he didn't regret not bringing Van Kulmer's Visual Guide to Historical Technologies. With it, he could have potentially identified the century (or even decade, if he was lucky) from which these vessels hailed, and from there, he could have cross-referenced with any of the several histories he had thought to bring to potentially determine, down to the date, which battle this had been.
This all assumed, of course, that this was an actual historic battle and not some simulated generic scenario designed solely for the purposes of this competition. There was no way to know, really- whoever it was that had abducted him from the Timeless was advanced enough to do so through all the various shields he'd developed over the iterations, and they'd done it without causing any detectable spatial anomalies. He'd simply vanished, replaced by what had appeared to be an average sampling of the nearby atmosphere. If they could manage that, he had no doubts that they were capable of generating an artificial section of ocean and populate it with a variety of appropriate seaships.
Of course, when it came to useful knowledge, it meant he was up the proverbial creek. The gravity was Earth normal, the atmosphere was basic pre-industrial fare, and the variations in the passage of time was within typical levels, given the tides. As far as he was concerned, it might have actually been Earth in whatever century it appeared to be.
So he holstered his Data Reader and looked at the ship around him. He wasn't exactly experienced when it came to seaships, but he'd spent years living solely aboard a spaceship, and the principles were likely the same.
First order of business, then, was inter-ship travel. Moving to the edge, he saw that the nearest ship, while close, was still a good five meters away at least. He wouldn't be crossing that gap on his own. That left closing it. It only took a moment for him to gather up a bundle of rope and, after a few tries with different things tied to the end, he managed to get one rope across. Another soon followed, and a third and fourth joined them in quick succession.
That done, he tried his first idea. He didn't really have much of an idea about the resistance he would encounter, so it seemed perfectly reasonable: a simple pull would exert an equal pull on the two ships, moving them closer together. Unfortunately, his guess at the resistance was much lower than what it actually was, resulting in nothing more than a bit of a pathetic swaying motion.
His second idea, a bridge between the two ships, was scrapped in planning. There wasn't exactly an abundance of excess material around, and the distance, while relatively small, was still longer than any individual length of wood he could find.
Idea three, as is often the case, bore more fruit, albeit rather indirectly. While wandering the deck, looking for supplies for a potential slingshot, his thoughts turned to the rigging of the ship, which actually extended over the side a ways. A workable idea formed in an instant, and mere seconds later, he was swinging across to the next ship over.
A few moments later, he was swinging back- his destination ship was a dead end, with nowhere to swing from on the other side. Hopefully, the other direction would be a bit more fruitful.