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Honorverse favorite passages

Join us in talking discussing all things Honor, including (but not limited to) tactics, favorite characters, and book discussions.
Re: Honorverse series, the future..?
Post by Commodore Oakius   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 8:54 am

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Tenshinai wrote:
You´re not wrong really, but on the one hand, something to get her noticed could still be something that would be utterly booring(or at least not interesting) to write/read about, and on the other hand, the LAC command might have been a "standard item" on the path of progression, and that she had already been noticed before that, and was effectively just doing the requisite time on "LAC duty" like anyone else before going onwards.

Or she could have been dumped there by domestic "enemies"(or enemies of her patron supporters) temporarily until things could get "fixed", without having any clue about it herself...

Essentially there´s lots of possible answers and many of them that could mean that the LAC tour could be very uninteresting.


I tend to think you are right in yor first paragraph, it was just a routine delypoment to command a ship, regardless of how small and whether it was hyper capable or not.
That being said, I think it was in On Basilsk Station, I don't know off hand, Pavel thinks to himself how his family has try to derail her career. Being given command of the LAC may have been on such successful attempts, giveing weight to your second paragragh.


As for passages, I can look up the text at work, but I always the exchange between, and pardon the magaling, Robinstonga and Moritsa in War of Honor, in regard to Captain Gortiz, right before he relieved him.
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by cthia   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 9:29 am

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Tenshinai, Hutch, both of you could be right. We just don't know. Personally, I am leaning toward a very interesting story potential. Considering Honor's high kinesthetic ability, and her pregnant history that supports that potential:
1) buzzing the Commandant's boat during the regatta in Top Gun fashion.
2) When she kicked Tankersley's butt at Kreskin field flying an old-fashioned jet plane, the Javelin.
3) Her talent and awards flying sail planes, cultivated on a homeworld where hang gliding is a planetary passion. Honor Harrington sets the Academy record for combined altitude, duration, and aerobatics in a sailplane. And the record still stands.
4) The way she handled her personal runabout saving Benjamin and Elizabeth.
5) Last but not least, the incredible flying maneuvers executed aboard Fearless.

All of this conspires to promise a potentially good storyline in a very maneuverable LAC. I could be wrong, but Honor's resume just doesn't support LACluster performance or storyline while commanding anything. Hear Hamish tell it, she probably brought her LAC back all shot up too!

Field of Dishonor Chapter 7
Honor slammed the throttles wide and rode the rudder pedals as she hauled the stick back into a near-vertical climbing turn. Twin, screaming turbines shook the airframe, and the artificial nerves in her rebuilt left cheek shivered with electric fire as acceleration squeezed like a fist. The sensation was strange but not really painful, and she watched the icons of the Heads-Up-Display on her flight helmet's visor shift as her vision tunneled.

Paul was "it" in their game of gun-camera tag at the moment, and her lips drew back in an acceleration-flattened smile as she shot away from his aircraft. She'd caught him napping this time, and she waited, watching the HUD and counting seconds. His nose flipped up and he committed to a pursuit curve . . . and she reversed her turn, slammed the stick forward, and pitched into an even steeper dive that had her floating against her harness straps as she howled down toward the distant sea.

No simulator, no small craft with its grav generators or pinnace with its inertial compensator and impeller drive, could match the sheer, wild delight of a moment like this. Honor's flight computers were simpleminded and minimal, for the Javelin had been designed to be one thing and one thing only: a pilot's aircraft—and her whoop of triumph was an eagle's shriek as she pulled out.

She roared into the north with wings swept for maximum speed and Paul in pursuit, and Saganami Island, site of the RMN's naval academy for over two and a half Manticoran centuries, grew below the aircraft's needle nose like a sunstruck emerald, rich with memories as she shot toward it at Mach six.

Honor was no stranger to salt water. She'd been born within sight and smell of Sphinx's Tannerman Ocean—in spite of which, Ms. Midshipman Harrington had found the Academy took some getting used to. The twenty-five percent lower gravity had made her feel wonderfully light on her feet, but Saganami Island lay at the mouth of Silver Gulf. The deep, glittering inlet which linked Jason Bay and the Southern Ocean was just twenty-six degrees below the capital planet's equator, and Manticore was near the inner edge of its primary's liquid-water zone while Sphinx lay barely inside its outermost limit. The fact that the Academy was on an island had helped, yet she'd taken weeks to adjust to the unending, enervating warmth.

Once she had, of course, she'd gone overboard in enjoying it. She could still remember the hideous sunburn she'd managed to inflict upon herself despite all warnings. Once had been enough, especially when poor Nimitz—still grappling with his own adaptation to the change in climate—had been forced to endure it with her via their link. Chastened but wiser for the experience, she'd explored her new environment with more caution and soon found that sailing tropical waters was just as much fun as roaming the colder, rougher seas of home. And the updrafts had made hang gliding almost as glorious as, if less excitingly treacherous than, those of Sphinx's Copper Wall Mountains. She and Nimitz had spent endless hours of precious free time soaring above the gulf's magnificent blue waters with a fine disdain for the emergency counter-grav units native Manticorans insisted on hauling along just in case.

Her disdain for counter-grav had worried some of the instructors, but hang gliding was a planetary passion on her homeworld. Most Sphinxians made it a point of honor (as silly, she admitted, as most points of honor) to eschew artificial assists, and Honor had been a qualified glider since age twelve—which might have helped explain her finely developed kinesthetic sense. Honor always knew where she was in the air, with an unerring instinct a Sphinx albatross might have envied . . . and one that had baffled the Saganami instructors.

The RMN maintained a vast marina of small sailing craft, and every midshipman, regardless of eventual specialization track, was required to qualify not only in sailplanes and old-fashioned airfoil aircraft but in even more old-fashioned seamanship as well as counter-grav. Critics might sniff at the requirement as a throwback to the bad old days when starship captains navigated the grav waves of hyper space as much by instinct as instruments, but the Academy clung to the tradition, and Honor, like most of the Navy's better shiphandlers, firmly believed it had taught her things and given her a confidence no simulator could—which didn't even consider how much fun it was!

At the same time, she had to admit that her own natural ability in the air, and her confidence and delight in proving it, had landed her in trouble more than once.

She hadn't meant to be wicked, but Ms. Midshipman Harrington's tendency to ignore her instruments and rely on her instincts had reduced certain instructors to frothing incoherence. Senior Master Chief Youngman, who ruled the marina with an iron hand, hadn't given her much trouble once they got to know one another. Youngman was from Gryphon, but she'd often vacationed on Sphinx to enjoy what she called real blue-water sailing. Once she'd checked Honor's abilities in person, she'd made her an assistant instructor.

Flight school had been another matter. With the benefit of hindsight, Honor shared Lieutenant Desjardin's appalled reaction to her blithe assertion that she didn't need instruments, but a much younger and brasher Honor had been furious when he grounded her for a full month for ignoring weather warnings and instruments alike on a night sailplane flight in her first term. Then there'd been her mock dogfight with Mike in their second form that, she admitted, really had gotten just a bit out of hand. And, of course, there'd been that unscheduled aerobatics display above the regatta. She hadn't known Commandant Hartley was winning at the moment she crossed his sloop in the run up to the ancient "Cuban Eight," but she still thought he'd been more miffed than the offense had required. It hadn't been her fault Kreskin Control had failed to designate the regatta's course restricted airspace. And it wasn't as if she'd inflicted any actual damage, after all; she'd cleared his masthead by a good forty meters, and he was the one who'd decided to go over the side.

She giggled as she remembered Hartley's thunderous rake-down, though neither it nor the legend-inspiring heap of black spots that went with it had seemed humorous at the time, then checked her HUD again as a threat warning pinged. Paul was still much too far away to tag her with a camera lock, but he was closing the range. She watched his icon trade altitude for still more speed, arrowing down to intercept her flight path, and smiled as she adjusted her fingers on the stick and reached for the air brakes. He was good, all right, but she'd been airborne long enough to get the touch back, and she doubted he was expecting . . . this!

She chopped the throttles, popped the brakes, and slammed forward against her harness. The suddenly extended spoilers slowed her as if she'd just dropped anchor, the wings automatically configured forward as her velocity fell toward a stall, and then she made it still worse by yanking up into a climbing loop. The Javelin hung on the brink of a spin, warning hooters bellowing . . . until she snapped the brakes closed and went back to full burner on her screaming turbines. Sheer, incredible power pulled the Javelin through, and Paul's plane was suddenly in front of her as she half-rolled to complete the Immelmann. She'd had to bleed too much speed to get behind him, though, and he almost outran her . . . until he pitched up in a sudden climb of his own.

Honor grinned wolfishly and followed him into a climbing scissors with the throttles wide open. She felt herself graying out and bared her teeth as she hung on to him. Their aircraft were identical, but a Javelin could exceed any pilot's physical limits, and her gee tolerance was higher than his. She used it ruthlessly, clinging to his tail, wracking in tighter than he could manage, and then her own camera pipper suddenly ringed his icon on the HUD.

She squeezed the trigger, pinging him with a radar "tag" and capturing him on the scoring chip, then broke to port, flipped around on a wing-tip, and went screaming back the way she'd come with a triumphant laugh.

"Sailor to Yard Dog. You're going to have to do better than that if you want to play with the big kids!"

Son, your mother says I have to hang you. Personally I don't think this is a capital offense. But if I don't hang you, she's gonna hang me and frankly, I'm not the one in trouble. —cthia's father. Incident in ? Axiom of Common Sense
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by SWM   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 9:50 am

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cthia wrote:Tenshinai, Hutch, both of you could be right. We just don't know. Personally, I am leaning toward a very interesting story potential. Considering Honor's high kinesthetic ability, and her pregnant history that supports that potential:
1) buzzing the Commandant's boat during the regatta in Top Gun fashion.
2) When she kicked Tankersley's butt at Kreskin field flying an old-fashioned jet plane, the Javelin.
3) Her talent and awards flying sail planes, cultivated on a homeworld where hang gliding is a planetary passion. Honor Harrington sets the Academy record for combined altitude, duration, and aerobatics in a sailplane. And the record still stands.
4) The way she handled her personal runabout saving Benjamin and Elizabeth.
5) Last but not least, the incredible flying maneuvers executed aboard Fearless.

All of this conspires to promise a potentially good storyline in a very maneuverable LAC. I could be wrong, but Honor's resume just doesn't support LACluster performance or storyline while commanding anything. Hear Hamish tell it, she probably brought her LAC back all shot up too!

Actually, those old-style LACs were not very maneuverable at all. They had even less acceleration and maneuverability than a contemporary superdreadnought, let alone a destroyer.

And it would be a bit odd to be able to bring a LAC back all shot up, when it was unable to even leave the Manticoran system.
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by cthia   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 10:19 am

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SWM wrote:
Actually, those old-style LACs were not very maneuverable at all. They had even less acceleration and maneuverability than a contemporary superdreadnought, let alone a destroyer.

And it would be a bit odd to be able to bring a LAC back all shot up, when it was unable to even leave the Manticoran system.

Thanks for the info on maneuverability. Didn't know that!

However, I did know that CLACs weren't available (see initial post) and knew Honor had to be stuck in-system. But...Honor has some sort of sixth-sense for trouble. If some 'odd' occurence was to happen, it'd happen to Honor, for certain, even in system. If anyone can bring a LAC back shot-up from in-system duty...Honor. :lol:

Hence, a potentially good storyline. Anyway, that's my storyline, and I'm sticking to it. :D

Son, your mother says I have to hang you. Personally I don't think this is a capital offense. But if I don't hang you, she's gonna hang me and frankly, I'm not the one in trouble. —cthia's father. Incident in ? Axiom of Common Sense
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by Vince   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 11:13 am

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cthia wrote:Tenshinai, Hutch, both of you could be right. We just don't know. Personally, I am leaning toward a very interesting story potential. Considering Honor's high kinesthetic ability, and her pregnant history that supports that potential:
***Snip***

For some strange reason when I saw the highlighted section above, the first thing that entered my mind was: We've already seen Honor pregnant in the books, even though the pregnancy part didn't last very long before she had Raoul tubed.
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History does not repeat itself so much as it echoes.
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by Tenshinai   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 11:54 am

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Vince wrote:
cthia wrote:Tenshinai, Hutch, both of you could be right. We just don't know. Personally, I am leaning toward a very interesting story potential. Considering Honor's high kinesthetic ability, and her pregnant history that supports that potential:
***Snip***

For some strange reason when I saw the highlighted section above, the first thing that entered my mind was: We've already seen Honor pregnant in the books, even though the pregnancy part didn't last very long before she had Raoul tubed.


The wonderful world of when words or context has more than one meaning. :ugeek:
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by hanuman   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 4:24 pm

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cthia wrote:Represents one of my favorite all-time passages. Early proof that Honor Harrington is sewn and cut from a different cloth. First time reading teared me up something awful.


Aw, but you cry so prettily :grin: ...and frequently :wink:
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by cthia   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 5:01 pm

cthia
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hanuman wrote:
cthia wrote:
Represents one of my favorite all-time passages. Early proof that Honor Harrington is sewn and cut from a different cloth. First time reading teared me up something awful.


Aw, but you cry so prettily :grin: ...and frequently :wink:

Okay, now you're just sounding like my sisters and nieces.

Blame it all on A Little Princess. That book opened up the valve to the floodgates and I haven't been able to close it since about nine or ten-years-old.

Son, your mother says I have to hang you. Personally I don't think this is a capital offense. But if I don't hang you, she's gonna hang me and frankly, I'm not the one in trouble. —cthia's father. Incident in ? Axiom of Common Sense
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by cthia   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 5:15 pm

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On Basilisk Station
What is it, Doctor?" she inquired.

"It's— Well, it's about these orders, Captain." Suchon raised her hand to display the data chip, and Honor nodded.

"What about them?"

"Captain, I don't think it's a good idea to— I mean, you've detached Lieutenant Montoya and all four of my best sick berth attendants to the customs parties, and I need them here in Fearless. I can't guarantee my ability to meet my medical responsibilities to the ship without them." Suchon leaned back in her chair as she completed her sentence. There was a certain smugness in her expression, the look of someone who has just delivered an ultimatum to a superior officer, and Honor regarded her levelly for several seconds.

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to get along without them, Doctor," she said at last, and Suchon sat back upright with a jerk.

"But I can't! If I have to detach them, the sickbay workload will be impossible, and Montoya is my sole physician assistant!"

"I'm aware of that." Honor made herself maintain a level tone, but there was very little liking in her brown eyes. "I'm also aware that it's the Navy's responsibility to provide medical personnel to check the health and immunization records of any individuals visiting Medusa's surface. Every other department aboard this ship is contributing to those customs parties, Doctor. I'm afraid Medical will just have to carry its share of the burden, as well."

"But I can't do it, I tell you!" Suchon more than half-snapped. "Perhaps you don't quite understand the responsibilities Medical faces, Ma'am. We're not like oth—"

"That will be enough, Doctor." Honor's voice had not risen, but it carried such cold, quiet venom that Suchon jerked back in her chair in shock. Icy brown eyes surveyed her with deadly dispassion, and her dark face paled.

What you mean, Doctor," Honor went on after a moment in that same cold voice, "is that if I detach your attendants—and especially Montoya, who's been carrying two-thirds of your load ever since I came aboard—you will be required to get up out of your comfortable chair and attend to your duties yourself."

Suchon's face darkened as flushed anger replaced the paleness of shock. She opened her mouth, but Honor stopped her with a raised hand and a thin smile.

"Before you explain to me that I don't understand the arcana of your profession, Commander," she said softly, "I should, perhaps, mention to you that both of my parents are physicians." Suchon paled once more. "In fact, my father was a surgeon commander himself before his retirement. Doctor Alfred Harrington—perhaps you've heard of him?"

Her smile grew even thinner as Suchon recognized the name. Alfred Harrington had been Assistant Chief of Neurosurgery at Basingford Medical Center, the Fleet's main hospital on Manticore, before his retirement.

"As a result, Doctor, I think you'll find I have quite an adequate grasp of precisely what your duties to this ship entail. And, I might add, since the topic has come up, that I'm not at all satisfied with the way you've discharged those duties since I assumed command." Her smile vanished, and Suchon swallowed.

"If, however, the five individuals you've mentioned are, indeed, indispensable to Fearless's Medical Department," Honor went on after a short, pregnant pause, "I'm certain I can make other arrangements to keep them aboard. Of course, in that eventuality it will be necessary to find some single individual with sufficient medical experience to replace all five of them to assign to the customs detachment. Someone like you, Doctor Suchon." She held the surgeon commander's eyes with a cold, level stare, and it was Suchon who looked away.

"Was there anything else, Doctor?" Honor asked softly. The physician gave a choppy headshake, and Honor nodded. "Dismissed, then, Doctor." She returned her attention to her terminal, and Commander Suchon rose and walked silently from the compartment.

What the heck was Suchon doing in the Navy?!

Son, your mother says I have to hang you. Personally I don't think this is a capital offense. But if I don't hang you, she's gonna hang me and frankly, I'm not the one in trouble. —cthia's father. Incident in ? Axiom of Common Sense
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Re: Honorverse favorite passages
Post by saber964   » Mon Jun 30, 2014 5:41 pm

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cthia wrote: On Basilisk Station
What is it, Doctor?" she inquired.

"It's— Well, it's about these orders, Captain." Suchon raised her hand to display the data chip, and Honor nodded.

"What about them?"

"Captain, I don't think it's a good idea to— I mean, you've detached Lieutenant Montoya and all four of my best sick berth attendants to the customs parties, and I need them here in Fearless. I can't guarantee my ability to meet my medical responsibilities to the ship without them." Suchon leaned back in her chair as she completed her sentence. There was a certain smugness in her expression, the look of someone who has just delivered an ultimatum to a superior officer, and Honor regarded her levelly for several seconds.

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to get along without them, Doctor," she said at last, and Suchon sat back upright with a jerk.

"But I can't! If I have to detach them, the sickbay workload will be impossible, and Montoya is my sole physician assistant!"

"I'm aware of that." Honor made herself maintain a level tone, but there was very little liking in her brown eyes. "I'm also aware that it's the Navy's responsibility to provide medical personnel to check the health and immunization records of any individuals visiting Medusa's surface. Every other department aboard this ship is contributing to those customs parties, Doctor. I'm afraid Medical will just have to carry its share of the burden, as well."

"But I can't do it, I tell you!" Suchon more than half-snapped. "Perhaps you don't quite understand the responsibilities Medical faces, Ma'am. We're not like oth—"

"That will be enough, Doctor." Honor's voice had not risen, but it carried such cold, quiet venom that Suchon jerked back in her chair in shock. Icy brown eyes surveyed her with deadly dispassion, and her dark face paled.

What you mean, Doctor," Honor went on after a moment in that same cold voice, "is that if I detach your attendants—and especially Montoya, who's been carrying two-thirds of your load ever since I came aboard—you will be required to get up out of your comfortable chair and attend to your duties yourself."

Suchon's face darkened as flushed anger replaced the paleness of shock. She opened her mouth, but Honor stopped her with a raised hand and a thin smile.

"Before you explain to me that I don't understand the arcana of your profession, Commander," she said softly, "I should, perhaps, mention to you that both of my parents are physicians." Suchon paled once more. "In fact, my father was a surgeon commander himself before his retirement. Doctor Alfred Harrington—perhaps you've heard of him?"

Her smile grew even thinner as Suchon recognized the name. Alfred Harrington had been Assistant Chief of Neurosurgery at Basingford Medical Center, the Fleet's main hospital on Manticore, before his retirement.

"As a result, Doctor, I think you'll find I have quite an adequate grasp of precisely what your duties to this ship entail. And, I might add, since the topic has come up, that I'm not at all satisfied with the way you've discharged those duties since I assumed command." Her smile vanished, and Suchon swallowed.

"If, however, the five individuals you've mentioned are, indeed, indispensable to Fearless's Medical Department," Honor went on after a short, pregnant pause, "I'm certain I can make other arrangements to keep them aboard. Of course, in that eventuality it will be necessary to find some single individual with sufficient medical experience to replace all five of them to assign to the customs detachment. Someone like you, Doctor Suchon." She held the surgeon commander's eyes with a cold, level stare, and it was Suchon who looked away.

"Was there anything else, Doctor?" Honor asked softly. The physician gave a choppy headshake, and Honor nodded. "Dismissed, then, Doctor." She returned her attention to her terminal, and Commander Suchon rose and walked silently from the compartment.

What the heck was Suchon doing in the Navy?!



In the age old saying "Not Much". I myself have met more than a few officers who were a waste of space.

As to were Suchon is now, I thinks she is CMO at Adamson-Prescott Station (Sphinx) after being TADed to MARS (Mantacore Artic Research Service)
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