[FICTION] Richard's Parker

[Missing Name]

The sea remained surprisingly calm for the first two days. Clear skies kept everyone's mood up and the lack of waves meant men weren't throwing up everywhere. As usual, Seaman Davis was already clearing everybody's pockets at Texas Hold'em.

Unfortunately, the convoy was moving even slower than planned. The Binghamton's boilers had started to deteriorate even further at around 0200 of the third day, with only four out of a possible six functioning. Progress slowed to only about five knots, pushing the trip from the expected six days remaining to eleven. The Binghamton's captain was making arrangements to break off and head to Roanoke.

A heavy storm was expected to roll over sometime late on the third day. Commander Richards gritted his teeth. The Binghamton was currently in no shape to weather rough seas; in fact, she shouldn't have even left Miami. But war tends to make everything more urgent.

At least we have plenty of seasickness meds. It's a good thing Doc has his sources.