starboard side


Harley: “Malachai, I said port side! Port side! You’re shooting our allies! The aliens went the other way!”

Malachai: “Harley, you’re getting way too -”

Aliyah: “Captain Harley, meteorite rapidly approaching to our port side, swing starboard and get Malachai to reverse his shots, we’ll get the aliens once we come out of the spin!”

Harley: “Good thinking, Aliyah! Hold on everyone, this is gonna be a tight spin!”

March 9, 1945. Iwo Jima. The crew of the American bomber Boeing B-29-45-BW, serial number: 42-24676, with its own name “Pride of the Yankees”, 882 squadron, 500th bomb group, inspects the damage to the aircraft. During a RAID on Tokyo, the propeller of one engine came off and struck a nearby engine moving it from the system. The crew had to fly 700 miles to Iwo Jima with only two working engines on the starboard side.

November 26, 1916 - French Battleship Suffren Torpedoed in the Mediterranean, Lost with All Hands 

Pictured - A painting of Suffren bombarding Turkish positions during the Dardanelles expedition.

Geography and superior numbers assured Entente control of the Mediterranean, but German U-boats took a heavy toll there in the second half of 1916. On November 26, one of them, U-52, sank her off the coast of Lisbon with all hands, as the Suffren headed to Lorient for a refit after patrolling the Greek coast. The captain of the German submarine recounted the event in his diary:

“On my starboard side, around 08:30, I can see the masts of a warship that is heading north.  I ask for a fast dive.  She’s a large ship with two chimneys, and I believe that she is from the Formidable class.  She doesn’t have any escort and is running straight north.

I maneuver so to attack her from the front.  I am trying to stay at attack speed, but the surge prevents us to stay submerged.  We then decide to go half speed, but realize that we’d get too close.  So, we change our course to attack from a different angle while preserving the possibility to attack from our aft tubes.  They are ready and filled. This maneuver makes the submarine’s aft very heavy and her kiosque is not submerged anymore when we are about 500 meters from our objective.  I ask all crew members to get to the front of the boat, to keep her at combat depth.

At 08:56, I order to fire from torpedo tube number 2.  As I believe that I’ve been spotted, and because I am in front of my target, I am afraid that she will ram me, and I order an immersion at a depth of 20 meters, while ordering a crash port turn.  In the meanwhile, after 18 seconds, I can her a first explosion, rapidly followed by a heavier one, which shakes our boat.  To find out what is going on, I ask to go up to a depth of 11 meters.  Before we are even to the desired depth, we are again getting very heavy in the aft section.  A little later, we hear a loud noise and something scratching against our hull.  We cannot maneuver our periscope, which is stuck at mid-height.  I try again to reach our new depth.  We can’t hear anything but I can eventually reach periscope depth.  On the rear, I can sea a very large blot as well as some smut.  I order the boat to surface and I go outside.  Seven minutes after I launched my torpedo, all I can see is an explosion cloud that is dispersed by the wind.  My explanation of what happened is that the torpedo provoked an internal explosion, which made the ship sink almost instantly, almost colliding with our submarine while she was going down.  I have some damage on the bridge as well as some scratches on the periscope.  I can also see some cloth on my radio mast, as well as a navy hat.  They smell of burn.  I also found a metallic piece that seems to come from a large caliber projectile.

At 09:03, I have not found any survivors or new evidence.  I continue my route.”

All 648 crew of Suffren perished with their ship.

Marines' Bonus I

Otherwise known as the first meeting of Shanks and Roger 

The sort of situation is straight out of the Grand Line; people falling unconscious while going out into the wilderness of the island, animals unusually docile, strange damage to the trees and cliff faces dealt by an unknown force… it’s the kind of adventures that sings to the Roger Pirates, their captain most of all.

It’s just not something they expected to encounter in West Blue, of all places. 

It is by no means the ‘weakest sea’, but certainly it shouldn’t be displaying this level of Grand Line weirdness. Yet, here they are. 

 On the starboard side, Rayleigh stands with his hands upon the railings, staring out into the stretch of blue between them and the mystery island. The crew are taking care of the prisoners, the ones whom have informed them of the island’s strange happenings are treated just slightly better than they otherwise would have been. 

 Not that Rayleigh particularly cares about them. 

He’s much more focused on Roger, who’s gaze hasn’t flickered from the island for an instant, head cocked to a side in a clear indication that he’s listening for something. 

 The man has tried explaining his strange ability to hear the voice of all things to him, but Rayleigh just doesn’t get it in the slightest. It doesn’t mean he cannot recognises when the voices begin calling out to Roger. 

 As if he doesn’t make it abundantly clear in the next moment. 

 "It’s drowning out all of the others… but it’s only in the opening verse.“ 

 And with that, Roger vaults over the side of the Oro Jackson, completely ignorant to the exasperation of all the crew on board as he goes. Rayleigh watches the man disappear, not even waiting for them to join him on the little row boat, and he resigns himself to rescuing his Captain from whatever trouble he’ll stumble into by the end of the day. 

 Better make sure they’re stocked up on medical supplies.

Roger slugs through the jungle and yes, he can feel it in his bones. 

 This is Conqueror’s Haki. 

 Wild and unrestrained, but so potentially overwhelming all the same. 

It’s like the waves of the ocean, knocking against his shins as he stands upon the beach, like the whipping wind of a raging summer storm, it’s the sting of frostbite and the scorch of wildfire. 

 It’s fantastic. 

 Roger’s own Haki roars within his chest, the only reason he can power forwards, the only reason he can keep moving against this magnificent force. He wants to meet the source, not as a pirate captain, not as a man of the sea, but as a fellow conqueror. 

Rayleigh would probably tear his head off if he knew how much danger Roger was throwing himself into here, but he doesn’t care right now. This is excitement, an adventure he never expected to find within West Blue.

 His heart thumps in his chest as he pushes back the thick jungle leaves, arriving in a clearing. 

 There’s the smouldering remains of a fire pit in one corner, a half skinned and sliced up jaguar beside it, judging by the spots on the pelt. A good catch, but then again given the hurricane of Conqueror’s that is being thrown around, the beastie never really stood a chance. 

 Rubbing at his chin in exaggeration, Roger plops himself down on a half rotten log, evidently used as a seat by the fire pit. The tent before him in worn, clearly old and well into its third, no, fourth year of life. 

The voice from things not alive is still a bit of a struggle to make out, but Roger’s managing, forever listening in. He listens to the tent’s tale, nodding along, fingers drumming against the exposed skin of his lower leg, bared by the shorts he chosen today, nails brushing against the hair there. The tent’s been protecting a kid from the weather and wilderness for nearly four whole years. 

He’s a young kid, not yet into double digits when it comes to his age. He’s the source of the Conqueror’s, but the tent hadn’t come into his company until after the brat was already throwing the rarest Haki in the world around like it was nothing more than cheap booze. 

 As if on cue, the boy stumbles into the clearing, dark eyes blown wide at the sight of his very conscious self. 

 That’s some fantastically red hair, Roger concludes, eyes focused on the deep crimson strands. The boy’s voice is calling out to him, all but screaming, and the captain of the Roger pirates grins in the startled child’s face. 

 "Hey boy, join my crew!" 

Roger returns with a child. A 'cabin boy’, as he referred to him while triumphantly shaking the child about, one hand gripping at the back of his tattered shirt, which he’d used to heft the kid up with. 

 Dark eyes are wide and startled, flashing from all of the men on board. 

The now unconscious men. Rayleigh’s own knees feel a bit weak in the face of the untamed Conqueror’s the boy is throwing about, clearly without even realising it. It’s ridiculous, it’s overpowered and otherworldly and it’s exactly what he’d expect Roger to come back with after one of his stupid adventures. 

He’s hesitant to bring the boy aboard, but he clearly needs help and Roger’s mind is undoubtedly set. 

 What can Rayleigh do other that go along with it? 

 So begins the Roger Pirates’ most intensive training yet; learning to stand against a constant wash of Conqueror’s, even as their captain goes about attempt to turn the tides back, to stop them from sweeping them all up in their current. 

Attempting to teach the boy how to control both the Haki and himself. Shanks is the boy’s name, the boy with the brilliant red hair, their cabin boy. 

Their cabin boy who looks to Roger with stars in his eyes, admiration and adoration all wrapped into one. 

The man who saved him from the isolation his Haki brought upon him. 

 One night, Rayleigh walks in on Roger sat with that iconic Straw Hat, the one he hasn’t adorned for near a decade but still holds close. It’s the only hat Rayleigh can ever accept his Captain wearing, the one he has now just doesn’t fit. Not to Rayleigh’s eyes. 

 Tanned fingers pass over the brim before Roger grins to himself. 

 He doesn’t put the hat on. 

 The next day, a slightly confused Shanks comes stumbling onto deck, a familiar object covering his brilliant red hair. 

 Rayleigh thinks it rather suits the kid.


10,5 cm K 18, the instrument selected as the main armament for the advanced “fighter bunkers”

Reworked version of the 10,5 cm K 18 for installation in a “self-propelled carriage”

Pz.Sfl.The IVa in the factory yard, the beginning of 1941

On the starboard side is clearly visible fake cabin of the driver

For such a powerful weapon self-propelled gun was very compact

Pz.Sfl.IVa front

The rear view clearly visible hatches through which access was gained into the crew compartment


In 1912 the RMS Titanic sank in the North Atlantic, killing more than 1,500 people, and becoming the most famous maritime accident in the 20th century. But unknown to many, Titanic’s sister ship met a similar fate as well. The HMHS Britannic was a hospital ship owned by the White Star Line and was active from the years 1914-1916. On November 21, 1916, she was carrying 1,065 people on board when the hull struck an underwater mine. Britannic leaned drastically to the starboard (right) side, and within 55 minutes was completely underwater. Unlike her famous sister Titanic, the Britannic did not break in half. In total 30 people were killed during the sinking. The wreck was discovered off the coast of Greece in 1975 and remains in wonderful diving condition. 

Fish Out of Water

Part of the merman AU from earlier, where Cloud triest to get the hang of this…human thing. 

Zack already had his arms out when Cloud lost his balance. Again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Zack said. Cloud was pretty wobbly, even for only having legs for a full 48 hours. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Cloud nodded, still chipper as ever. He care set his feet down below him and stood up again. Zack tentatively turned back to the wheel. Cloud plopped into the seat next to him. 

Cloud had explored every inch of the ship. He had every right to be curious since he had been confined to their large on board aquarium for quite some time. But now he insisted on company where ever he went. 

So when Zack started to drive them to their next location…Cloud called the navigation seat. Not that any navigating was going on. Cloud spent most of the time leaning over the starboard side staring at the water. 

“We gotta get you to shore soon,” Zack sighed as Cloud crossed back and forth across the ship peering into the water. 

“Shore?” Cloud asked, “where…landpeople go?” 

“Uhh…yeah you could call it that,” Zack agreed. 

“When can we go?” Cloud asked, now nearly leaning himself out of the boat. 

“Cloud please sit back down, I don’t want to wait for you to dry off and grow legs again,” Zack said. 

“I won’t fall,” Cloud said, “I’m thinking about jumping…” 

Angeal stopped when he saw Cloud picking at his serving of broccoli. Cloud had spent most of the last meal feeling out his newer, duller set of teeth. Now…he was flat out avoiding using them. 

“You know you’re not a carnivore anymore,” Angeal said. 

“It’s not meat,” Cloud said. 

“It’s good for you,” Angeal said. 

“It’s…wrong color,” Cloud said, now glaring at the offending vegetable. 

“Just because it’s green doesn’t mean you can’t eat it,” Angeal said. Cloud leaned down and Angeal could faintly hear a growl burbling in Cloud’s chest. 

“It’s broccoli,” Angeal said. 

“Broccoli,” Cloud hissed. Angeal sighed. 

“How about I cover it with cheese then?” Cloud sat up. Cloud knew he liked cheese. Angeal found a winner. 

“I won’t cover all of your vegetables with cheese though,” Angeal warned him, “start eating them right.” 

Genesis glanced up when he heard clumsy footsteps behind him. Cloud was getting better at walking. Genesis felt when Cloud paused right behind him. 

“Whassat?” Cloud asked. 

“What is that.” Genesis corrected, “And it’s just some light reading.” 

“Reading,” Cloud said, latching onto one of the words he knew. Genesis hadn’t read aloud to him while he was in the tank for nothing it seemed. 

“It’s not as entertaining as the play I read to you,” Genesis said, “it’s an old biology book.” 

“I want to read,” Cloud said squinting at the letters. Genesis closed his book. He made a snap decision, but damnit it needed to be done. The next time they went to shore, Cloud was getting some picture books. 

“How about we start a new book together,” Genesis said, “then we’ll get you some books you can start reading on your own.” 

Cloud was thrilled with that idea. 

Sephiroth didn’t know what to make of it when Cloud wrapped his arms around his waist. He held himself away from Cloud in case it was some weird mermaid ritual thing. 

After a few minutes of solid…hugging though he had to ask what this was about. 

“Cloud?” he asked, “Is…something the matter.” 

“Thank you for letting me into your clan,” Cloud said. He’d obviously practiced this phrase a few times before coming out and saying it. Sephiroth was more than a little touched. 

He lowered his arms around Cloud’s shoulders, gently hugging him back. 

“We have a different word for clan up here on land,” Sephiroth said. 

“What?” Cloud asked, looking up at him. 

“Family. You’re part of our family now.” 

Shokaku. Japanese aircraft carrier Shokaku attacked by USS Yorktown (CV-5) planes, during the morning of 8 May 1942. Flames from a bomb hit on her forecastle are visible, as are smoke and splashes from dive bombers’ near misses off her starboard side. Photographed from a Torpedo Squadron Five TBD-1. What appear to be erratic torpedo tracks are visible in the lower left.

anonymous asked:

SPOILERS FOR TABOO! James/Arthur prompt, while the survivors are on their way to their destination they find a stowaway aboard their ship. Arthur has to prove himself as useful to James, unless he wants to be thrown overboard.

Tagging it as spoilers just in case!


It was only a matter of hours that they were floating seemingly aimlessly on the sea, James smoking his pipe as he leaned on the railing, starboard side, watching the water race by him. He still smelled like gunpowders and blood but he was in no rush to wash off just yet.

His mind was going blank as he enjoyed the breeze on his face and the pull of tobacco in his lungs. It had been quiet for so long, that when he heard a shout, he forgot where he was for a moment as he stood up straight and turned around, seeing Pearl rush up from below deck and said,

“There’s a stowaway on board!”

Atticus picked up his weapon, his head now cleaned off from the blood, a faint mark from where the damage was received now visible. When he handed James his spare side arm, James took it and walked past Pearl to go below deck. Down below where Cholmondeley and Lorna recovered, French Bill and Godfrey pointed to where the stowaway had hidden. James went ahead, turning a corner and tried to see just where someone could hide. It was hard to see until Atticus followed up behind him and gave him a candle.

There, behind the barrels and sacks, a body hid and tried to make themselves smaller but James aimed his weapon anyway and said,

“You there. Why are you on my ship?”

He watched a cautious face slowly peer out, fear in his eyes as he looked at James and softly asked,

“Please don’t shoot me…”

“Then answer me.”

“I…I…I had to get away from there. I didn’t know this was your ship.”

James lowered his gun but still held the candle out to make sure the boy didn’t move.

“I got no use for you boy. You’re another mouth, another liability and if you’re useless, you don’t belong on my ship.”

The boy looked afraid and he bit his lip for a moment before he said,

“I… I can cook. I can tend to your wounded. I saw you have the injured man…the woman. Please, I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

James seem to consider it and Atticus stood behind him, leaning up to talk into James’ ear directly.

“Toss him James. We got too many people onboard as is.”

“We got no one to cook and watch everyone at the same time.”


“We were supposed to have more people here Atticus. They didn’t make it. He and Godfrey can take turns watching over everyone. Besides, if he does anything he’s not supposed to, you can kill him and throw him overboard.”

Atticus readily agreed, a smile on his face as the boy shrunk down. James turned his attention back to the boy and said,

“What’s your name?”


“Alright Arthur, get out from there. This is Atticus. You’ll tend to our wounded, cook, clean, kill rats, make sure everything is in top shape. You fuck up, you go over? Clear?”

Arthur nodded and James grunted a bit, giving the candle to Atticus as he turned to leave.

“Get him started.”

It was only a matter of days that Arthur began to pull his weight for more than anyone else. He cooked every meal, watched over the wounded when Godfrey was occupied, cleaned and only seem to fall asleep after running himself ragged and only for minutes at a time. He did his best to stay out of the way and still be useful. Lorna was doing better every day and while she ate one afternoon, Arthur sitting beside her, she sighed a bit and said,

“You’re very helpful.”

“Thank you miss…”

“But be careful. You don’t want to be of too much use. The devil will need your services then.”

Arthur looked at her, concerned but Lorna continued to eat.

“The devil?”

“The devil Delaney. Don’t you know boy? This is a ship of the damned.”

“I’m already damned. I would be delighted if the devil had a use for me.”

Lorna looked alarmed then but Arthur wouldn’t meet her eye.


HMS Victory launched, 7th May, 1765

250 years ago today, the first-rate ship of the line Victory was launched at Chatham Dockyard. She had been designed by the great naval architect Thomas Slade, and her keel laid down in 1759.

The launch was almost a disaster, for at first light on 7th May, the shipwrights realised that the gates of the dock were too narrow for her to pass through, and it was only a frantic last-minute effort from all available hands hewing away at the gates that averted disaster, and allowed the launch to go on in safety.

Despite this fairly inauspicious beginning, however, Victory went on to have a long, illustrious career, most famously as the flagship of Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar on 21st October, 1805. Today, she is still the oldest commissioned ship in the world - and, as you can see, she’s still a beauty!

Nerigal Savant

“The enemy is only another algorithm. Simplify it, solve it, and set it in its place.”

FIELD LOG [status=CLASSIFIED:authcode(Lima-0017782901)]



I’m waiting for my Ghost to feed me location telemetry from the scouting party deeper in the Dreadnaught.

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