Carl Miller wrote:Better than dealing with the shame for umpteen years waiting for it to grow back.
Especially ...when the 'fight' was meant to judge Jardin's reaction and the fighting spirit and discipline of his crew! Clearly, the Loroi warriors of Captain Jardin's crew have not been 'softened' in their combat edge or lax in their discipline by Jardin's masculine ways...
Jethreuel wrote:At the end of the fight, where Alex is thinking that Mountain will cut off a limb or head.
You mean Fragile Storm?
Yeah, fixed that. I was soooooo tired when I wrote that. (I am still tired. WTF, self? I fall asleep at 7 AM and you wake up at 11?!)
sunphoenix wrote:
Carl Miller wrote:Loroi blood is blue, not red. Also, is the other guard's name Rainfall or Rainshadow?
Oh I think its perfectly reasonable for Shinji..er I mean Jardin to in the throes of shock and horror to fear a splash of crimson.. when he sees to very lovely almost human females in a 'seemingly' life or death knife fight.
I should point out, Mountain Mantle was very much trying to kill Fragile Spear there. As Spear said, if she'd managed to strike a fatal blow when it was still contested, that would have been permitted. Granted, that was only during the first few shots, when Mantle would have considered a failure to dodge or parry to be an inexcusable lapse in readiness worthy of being punished by death; after she was satisfied that Fragile Spear was not inexcusably lax, she wanted to humiliate her, and fairly well succeeded.
Also, the below-the-boob "window" of fabric? A thrust through that wouldn't have done anything, as I presume Loroi armor-fabric is more than tough enough to turn aside a blade... But it flexes enough to let a fist's blow hit home.
Krulle wrote:Wow, what a fight for honour.
Interesting how Fragile Storm forced her sister Fragile Spear to have her hair regrown using modern medicine instead of the honour way, naturally regrown.
All about honour, and giving honour to those who deserve it.
In their case, it's that they're identical twins, and have always worn their hair of identical length, and often in identical style, too. When they were younger, they liked to prank people by impersonating one another. So it wasn't so much 'forced' her (say, by ordering her as a superior officer,) as it was guilt-tripped her (by insisting that if Spear insisted on doing things the stubborn way, so would she.)
Honour by hairstyle and -length. Archaic, but those are females, after all.
For quite a while in Human history, having a beard, and length of it, was a symbol of status and fined if worn without having the actual status.
Well, as I understand things, typically among the Loroi, it is the case that although not regulated by rule or authority, the elaboration of a warrior's hairstyle is down to the station of her birth, while the length is down to her age.
So, someone like Cloud could be inferred to be both very young and of entirely unimportant birth, Fireblade could be known to be older and of somewhat more important birth, etc.
It's not universal, though; Ashrain's hair is long, but straight, which entirely belies the fact that she's related to the Emperor (whom herself wears straight hair.)
It also breaks down with the clan girls, though; while their hair length does still stand for their age, they will unashamedly wear tribal hairstyles and decorations that would be (and are) perceived by Loroi more used to the military monoculture as putting on unearned airs. Challenging them on this is a great way to insult their pride and wind up in an honor duel. If you're lucky, they'll be satisfied with cleaning your chronometer.
Carl Miller wrote:Better than dealing with the shame for umpteen years waiting for it to grow back.
Well, human hair grows ~6 inches per year. Even if we're generous and assume Loroi get twice that naturally, Fragile Spear's hair was down to her ass, and when Mountain Mantle was done with her, it was above the base of her neck. That would've been two years and change.
sunphoenix wrote:
Carl Miller wrote:Better than dealing with the shame for umpteen years waiting for it to grow back.
Especially ...when the 'fight' was meant to judge Jardin's reaction and the fighting spirit and discipline of his crew! Clearly, the Loroi warriors of Captain Jardin's crew have not been 'softened' in their combat edge or lax in their discipline by Jardin's masculine ways...
No, the fight was because Fragile Spear way overdid it in her insults, trying to see where Mountain Mantle's discipline would break and she would return the insult. She was expecting not to even get half as far as she did, and got carried away, and by the time she was done, she'd issued the kind of insults and challenges that could only be answered with blood... Or hair, in this case.
She was also figuring on taking Mountain Mantle down hard and fast, clipping off one of the girl's braids, and considering the matter settled. She was not expecting to pick a fight with someone who is as good as she was, back when daily sparring with melee weapons was more a part of her routine than ship readiness reports and logistics reviews.
Make no mistake, that was not typical; both Mountain Mantle and Fragile Spear are very highly trained and skilled at the martial arts. Either one of them could hand Fireblade her ass in a fistfight (not that you can have a fistfight with an Unsheathed,) but a Shao-Lin Master or a UFC champion would take either of them down hard; Mantle is still young and there is much she does not know, especially about coping with unfamiliar styles, and Fragile Spear is out of practice.
Ultimately, they're not skills that are particularly relevant in warfare, but both of them are way above standard military unarmed combat training.
After catching his breath, and checking that Kelly had caught hers, Alexander straightened up, and led the group back along the gangplank to Swiftwind.
He had given no instructions to relax the ship's state of readiness while he was out, and he had left both Beryl and Talon aboard. Beryl would have the bridge - and getting the crew to accept that had been a challenge, but one he (and she!) had rose to - and would, he expected, not have changed anything.
As he walked in through the airlock door to the inside of the vessel, he saw that he was correct. The combat-armored Soroin remained to the left and right of the airlock, another carbine-wielding Loroi stood at the front and aft entrances. Opposite the airlock, Icewand was standing, tapping on her tablet whilst one of her drones was doing something at the top of the corridor, inside a maintenance hatch. She looked up, saw him walking in. Her tablet snapped down to her left side, and she snapped to attention; just as she was about to announce him, she caught sight of Fragile Storm behind him, and her eyes went huge.
For a moment, Alex though she was going to freeze up in panic, or at least indecision, but she took a sharp breath, snapped her right arm into salute, and announced as loudly as she could, "Commodore on Deck!" Good girl, Alex thought, grinning with pride as the rest of the guards in sight turned. There was surprise and alarm in all of their eyes, but to their credit, they all did as expected, snapping to attention, saluting smartly in Fragile Storm's direction.
Alex nodded at them, stepping into the ship, smartly turning around, and saluting Fragile Storm himself. "The ship is at your disposal for inspection, Commodore. Where would you like to inspect?"
"At ease," Fragile Storm said after a moment, holding her hand up, and she looked to the aft. "This way." Turning, she strode smartly aft, and Alex turned to follow.
In the next compartment, and the next, the story was the same, making Alex feel tremendously proud of the work he had done. Though he saw surprise, alarm, and in some cases a bit of fear on the faces of his crew, someone in each compartment managed to muster the courage to call out that Fragile Storm had entered the compartment, and after that it was a matter of drilled instinct for the crew to turn and salute. The fact that he did continue to see shock on the crew's faces confirmed to him that Fireblade (and most likely, Tempo,) were doing a fast job of squashing any instincts to alert the rest of the ship.
The commodore proceeded through the shift; first aft, to the engineering spaces, then fore. At the brig, she paused when she saw the armored Loroi standing guard, and after she settled the surprised guard down, turned to Jardin. "Do you still have prisoners in your brig," she asked. He shook his head.
"No prisoners, Commodore... We have been, err, accommodating Reed in one of the cells, though."
"Reed? Was she not the one who was compromised and destroyed Swiftwind's original command staff?" Fragile Storm raised an eyebrow, and Fireblade nodded.
"Yes, that was Reed."
"You captured her alive? I understood that none of the others who ... Who had been so compromised were willing to be taken alive."
Alex sighed. "I don't believe any of the others were wholly successful. Reed was able to ambush the entire senior staff of Swiftwind in one room. She led with a grenade, and anyone who was left... She is Unsheathed."
"And... At that point, she allowed herself to be captured," Fragile Storm asked, incredulously, and Alex sighed, bowing his head.
"She is... Unwell," Fireblade said, decidedly firmly. "After the attack was successfully complete, she became... Compliant. Docile; nearly catatonic. She exists on a three-day cycle. One day, starting with her successful action, she simply... Follows instructions. She will eat when instructed to, rise when instructed to rise, walk when instructed to walk, but she does little else. The day after that, she wakes up believing it is the day she and I were to transfer Alexander from Tempest to the frigate Clearbrook. This generates considerable confusion, and often I am the only one she will believe in this state. The following day... She awakens with knowledge of what has transpired, a sense of the time which has passed since the attack, and memories of those days in which she was lucid. On such days, she is wracked with guilt."
"I see." Fragile Storm raised her eyebrow. "And you saw fit to keep this from everyone until now, because..."
Alex turned to her. "Because quite frankly, I didn't want to deal with the rumor of it spreading throughout Retribution, and the other vessels in your fleet, and deal with officers like Opalstorm who would demand she be executed, either as a traitor - which she is not - or as a security risk, which admittedly, she might be. It was difficult enough convincing the crew of Swiftwind that she was not a danger to anyone."
"I see." Fragile Storm said, arching an eyebrow. "And what if she sees a high-ranking officer like myself, mmmh? Would she attack on sight?"
Alex's jaw dropped, and he bit his lip; that, in truth, was a possibility he hadn't considered; that whatever the shells had done to her wasn't over, but merely lay dormant, waiting for officers to lash out at. He sighed. "Honestly, we had neither considered that possibility, nor been able to test it."
"Very well. Let us put it to the test." She looked to the guard, who shifted to attention. "Open it."
Alex swallowed, as the guard nodded, and turned to the controls by Reed's cell. Is this a good idea, he thought, as the door opened. Within, above the brig-issue sleeping pad, was rigged a hammock in which Reed was sitting. He hated seeing her like this; dutiful, diligent Reed, now with a vacant, uncaring look in her eyes, apathetic to the world. In a near corner of the cell was a small scent-generator, an egg-sized thing filling the compartment with what he knew was the scent of Reed's favorite incense; in the opposite near corner was folded a spare skinsuit. She was wearing only a skin-tight bodysuit, with her caste and rank colors and markings, but her feet were bare, her boots with the spare folded off-duty uniform.
The immediate fear went unfounded; she didn't react in any way to Fragile Storm's uniform, remaining where she was. It was clear the commodore had been bracing herself for an attack, but with none forthcoming, she shifted her posture, nonplussed. It seemed that she was uncertain what to do. "Does she... React in this state?"
"Not to much," Fireblade stated. "If sent a direct and clear command - such as 'stand up,' or 'wear your boots,' or 'eat,' she will comply. She does not respond to any questions, nor to commands to communicate. She will not respond to audible commands. She will follow if you take her by the arm or hand and lead her."
"And in her mind?"
Fireblade closed her eyes, sadly sighing. "Her mind is... Clear. Not absent, but not dwelling upon or focusing on anything. Information cannot be coaxed, cajoled, or forced from her; it is like interrogating a bank of fog."
With a frown, Fragile Storm furrowed her brow. She stepped into the brig cell, and Alex sucked in a breath, watching as she walked over to Reed. Reed didn't react as she drew close, nor when she carefully placed her hand on the stricken Unsheathed warrior's cheek. Alex bit his lip; it reminded him all too much of his first experience with sanzai, though that had been a hostile interrogation, not an attempt to communicate. After a long few moments, Fragile Storm drew back, looking back at them, and shaking her head.
"I have never perceived such... Nothingness," she admitted, walking back, out of the cell. She nodded at the guard, who shut the door without comment. Fireblade nodded, sadly, and Fragile Storm shook her head. "If she is docile, and nonthreatening, why is she being kept in the brig?"
"Inertia," Alex admitted, "and some fear. In the aftermath of the incident, we didn't know if she would snap out of it, or snap and attack someone else, or what. There was a battle starting shortly, and action had to be taken immediately to safeguard the vessel and crew. Summarily executing Reed was out of the question, so placing her under arrest was the next obvious option. For a great while, many of the crew were afraid of her, and insisted on keeping her securely locked up, which suited me as a locked door with a guard works both ways. Now, she is simply here because it is where we have kept her safe since then."
He looked back to the door to the brig cell, letting out a sad sigh. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you to transfer her to your medbay. Jade Disk has saved a lot of lives, but she is at best only equipped and trained to cope with physical trauma, not maladies of the mind, and certainly not... This."
Fragile Storm looked back to the door, and then glanced to her twin, whose cleaved-off hair had gotten more than a few curious stares. "Our medical bay is far more well-equipped and staffed, but even so, this may well be beyond our ability to render aid," Fragile Spear admitted. "We may have to simply wait until we can return her to a far larger and better-equipped facility in the Union."
Alex sighed, and looked back to Fireblade. His friend's green eyes looked unhappy, but resigned - as she usually felt when considering the topic of her stricken protegé. He nodded. "We understand that. But will you at least try?"
"Of course we will" Fragile Spear said, without a moment's hesitation; Fragile Storm apparently saw fit not to contradict her, and simply nodded. "I'll make the arrangements immediately." She pulled her tablet out and began speaking into it. Jardin looked at Fireblade, and nodded.
"Tempo, arrange for Reed to be transferred to Retribution, please," he asked. "Make sure Jade Disk accompanies her to give their specialists a rundown of her situation."
Tempo nodded. She did not need to pull out her own tablet, of course; in the middle of Swiftwind, she could reach everyone she needed to via sanzai. Alex looked back at the door to the brig, and then to the door forward. Within two minutes, Jade Disk had arrived, carrying a satchel. She started as she saw Fragile Storm and Fragile Spear, her eyes going wide as saucers. For a moment, Alex thought she was going to panic, or believe that somehow they were there to arrest her, but she snapped smartly to, saluted. So far, we haven't missed any. Good. Fragile Storm raised her hand and told her to be at ease.
"Disk," he said, "we're going to have Retribution's staff take a look at Reed and try to help her. Go with her, make sure that Retribution's Doranzer staff understand what's going on with her - how she's going to wake up tomorrow disoriented and believing it's five years in the past and she's aboard Tempest, and so forth and so on."
The shaved-headed Doranzer nodded curtly at him. "Yes sir... Sir..." She looked unnerved for a moment. "What do I do if someone becomes... Hostile to her?" Crap. I didn't think of that, Alex thought; his first instinct was to remind her that she was wearing a sidearm and damn well should have known how to use it, but Fragile Spear beat him to the punch. "I have assigned a security detail," she explained. "At least one Teidar will be available at all times."
"Understood," the medic said, and moved to slip past, to the brig. When the door was opened, Alex feared for a moment that seeing Fragile Storm might have had a delayed response in Reed, but his fears were entirely unfounded; she remained sitting upright in the hammock, as she had last been seen.
As Reed was being collected, Fragile Storm pointed forward. "Let us inspect the command center," she said. Alex nodded, as Fragile Storm led the way forward. His mind turned over, though. Wait a minute, who's got the bridge? Oh - right, Beryl!
In the complete absence of himself and his friends, it would have been Swift Harpoon, but not all of his friends were present. Oh boy, he thought, as Fragile Storm proceeded toward the bridge, because he knew who had the bridge if he, Tempo, and Fireblade were absent. Time to see just how badly this is gonna go.
Fragile Storm strode with purpose, such that the crew passed in the corridors did no more than snap to and salute, as she whisked past, reaching the doors to the bridge shortly. The two guards at the sides of the doors snapped smartly to, as she whisked past, the door opening for her.
On the bridge, he saw, Beryl was sitting in the chair he customarily occupied, but she turned around smoothly, rising from the chair, calling out "Commodore on deck!" It was smooth - so smooth, he knew that she had to have been forewarned, most likely by watching the internal cameras.
In an equally-smooth movement, everyone on the bridge followed suit; turned their chairs, rose, snapped to attention, raised their arms in salute.
Fragile Storm seemed almost a little taken aback; the bridge was the largest concentration of crew whom she had seen perform this at once, but she walked forward, towards the command platform, looking around at the bridge. Finally, as if satisfied, she nodded. "Be as you were," she said, holding her hand up calmingly. The bridge crew turned back to their posts, though Alex saw Talon fix him with a grin before she sat back down. Beryl, however, walked forward, smiling.
"Fragile Storm, welcome to the bridge of Swiftwind. I do hope you've found everything satisfactory?"
Fragile Storm looked around again, slowly. "Largely," she said. "There are some points upon which I require clarification." She turned to Alexander, and he met her eyes as she said "Captain Jardin, please assemble your senior staff in your ship's briefing room - assuming it is still fit for habitation. If not, Retribution's conference room will be provided."
"That won't be necessary," Alex said. "It is fit for service." He raised his voice slightly, glancing around the bridge. "Beryl, Tempo, Fireblade, Talon; conference room. Kelly," he said, looking back to the human redhead; she had been quiet the entire time, and might have been thought to have tuned out, but she stood to attention the moment he said her name, and said in English, "Tea."
She smiled, and nodded, saluting smartly and turning on her heel, whisking out of the bridge. Fragile Storm raised an eyebrow. "Do you not require your subordinates to wait for you to give them leave to depart?"
Alex nodded. "Ordinarily, that would be the case, but I gave her a very clear instruction and no indication there were more to follow it. That implies 'go and do this now,' in the absence of any further instructions."
Fragile Storm nodded, though she seemed still puzzled by something, she let it go, and gestured to him to lead on. This he did, and shortly he had filed the group into the conference room.
It looked perfectly normal. The corpses had been removed months ago, damage to bulkheads had been repaired, the destroyed furniture had been replaced. It smelled normal, for the chilly, vanilla-like definition of normal atmosphere common to Loroi vessels.
Still, the spectre of death haunted the room; it was a feeling he couldn't shake, though he knew it was as irrational as blowing on dice in the hopes of affecting a gambling victory. His consolation was that the Loroi were in no way, shape, or form unaffected by the same feeling.
He and Fireblade had been the first ones into the room after the grenade going off alerted everyone, and she was visibly uncomfortable as she walked in, though not nearly as much so as Beryl, who looked visibly unnerved. He shuddered slightly at the memory; of running in after Fireblade, seeing what had happened. At first, they'd thought Reed was a stunned survivor of the attack. Then he'd heard the others approaching, running.
Seeing the look on Beryl's face brought it back - he'd all but tackled Beryl to the deck to prevent her from walking into that room with her eidetic memory - he had grappled her, pushed her away, pushed her to the wall, told her she didn't want to go in there. It had been confusing for her, but she'd thankfully believed him... Even so, she had a pretty good imagination, and she'd heard what had happened. Then she's heard the gasp of shock from Tempo, who must have relayed what was in the room, because she got a suddenly awful look on her face.
Everyone looked visibly disquieted as they filtered in and took seats, even Fragile Storm. Outside the door, he noted that two fully-armored marines had taken up positions, as he sat down, at the far end of the table. Fragile Storm and Spear sat to his left, Tempo and Beryl to his right, Talon past Beryl, and then Fireblade opposite him.
"You said you had some clarifications you required, Mazeit," Alex asked, and Fragile Storm nodded.
"I do. Firstly... Where did you send your adjutant," she asked, with a raised eyebrow, and Alex smiled.
"I told her to go brew enough tea for the whole group to have some," he explained. Fragile Storm raised her eyebrow.
"Do you anticipate such a long meeting that a stimulant will be required," she asked, and Alex fought to hold in a chuckle; he was about to speak up, but Tempo beat him to it.
"It is a hospitality custom among humans," she explained - the others had been sufficiently perplexed by his insistence on sharing tea with them in the mornings for a good long while. "To make a hot, steeped or brewed beverage available to guests."
Fragile Storm nodded. She looked about to say something else, when the door to the corridor opened again; Ensign Kelly walked in, and Alex perked right up in his seat. He'd told her to make tea, and she had - but the rich, hearty scent of coffee hit his nose.
He had mentioned it yesterday, and promptly forgotten about it, but now she had his undivided attention; she was bearing a broad, rounded tray from the galley, with two quite large carafes, each of which looked more than sizable enough to have at least one cup for the whole table and then some. "Pardon me, Beryl, Talon," she asked, slipping between the two for a moment to set the tray on the table, in the middle - near to the exact center, as far as he could tell - and stepped back. She nodded at him, and he grinned.
"Thank you, Ensign. Please," he said, and she nodded, stepping between Beryl and Tempo again, distributing the drinking vessels - simple, plain ceramic mugs, blue outside with white rims and handles - around the table.
"I made enough tea for everyone," she said, "but the coffee I requisitioned from Luna-9 arrived while the Captain was out and was stowed. I know you wanted some, sir," she said, smiling to him, "so I made enough of both for everybody."
He snickered. "Is there a medal for good adjutanting that you're angling for, Ensign?" She smiled.
"No sir - I've already checked." She gestured around the room, starting with Fragile Storm, who raised an eyebrow, and leaned closer than Alex felt entirely comfortable with to him.
"What is the nature of this other beverage," she asked, and Alex looked back.
"It's a drink made from brewing the beans of various form of coffee plant, that may or may not have gone through various forms of additional preparation, or be from a wide variety of sources," he explained, whilst fervently hoping she hadn't gone and requisitioned some ridiculous, expensive blend of quease-inducing coffee whose beans were processed through the digestive system of an elephant or something.
Not, he thought, that such could be worse than some of the Loroi foods he had attempted to eat - such as the puke-colored bun whose color should have damn well been a warning to him - but still, the thought of brewing something that had been through an animal's gut turned his stomach. "What kind is this, exactly," he asked, and Kelly smiled, picking up the carafe.
"Just your average, everyday, TCA-issued coffee arabica beans. Nothing fancy," she promised, "and the tea is what the galley had in stock, because my order for tea hadn't been filled by the time we peeled out of dock."
Jardin actually liked the Loroi teas he'd had, so that didn't displease him; but it had been far too long since he'd had a cup of joe. Well, granted, he had had some since he had gotten back, but he still felt that didn't count, as he was making up for five years away from sweet, sweet coffee. He looked to Fragile Storm, who raised her eyebrow, and nodded. "Very well. I would try some, then, if this hospitality ritual is so important to our new allies." She held her mug up; that seemed to be the trigger everyone at the table to do the same, and Kelly emptied the carafe serving everyone. Damn. I wanted seconds, Alex thought, as the Ensign picked up a box full of what he expected were sweetener cubes.
"Does anyone prefer their drinks sweeter, or with cream?" He grinned. "Both, please, but not much cream," he said, holding up his mug - leading the way. He noted that she was using the milk from the galley, and wondered what the Loroi milk would be like in a cup of joe. Probably not as bad as some of the first things I tried, he thought. The memories of his first experiments with Loroi shipboard food came flooding back horribly, necessitating he suppress a shudder.
After that, the orders came in - Tempo preferred to try the drink unadulterated, both Fragile Storm and Spear opted for sweet but without milk, while Fireblade went the opposite way. Beryl and Talon both went for sweet and creamed. Fragile Storm raised an eyebrow at him, and he noticed that she had waited until everyone had been served. "Is there more to this ritual," she asked, and he chuckled, shaking his head.
"In some cultures, maybe, but as far as I know, no. It really is just as simple as making coffee, tea, or both," he said, gesturing to the tray Kelly had brought, "available for guests to partake of. There's no need to wait or anything," he said, lifting his cup, taking a sip.
Hot coffee hit his tongue in a mist, cooled by the air he sucked in (as quietly as possible) with it. Sweet, flavorful, and devoid of sharpness, his eyes closed, and he shuddered, sucking in a slow breath and letting it out.
There were a few moments of silence as the assembled tested their coffee. Though nobody commented on it, it seemed to go down favorably, judging by the slight smiles to quizzically pleased looks he saw all around. He set his own mug down, his hands wrapped around it. It was some kind of very effective insulator, but not perfect, resulting in the coffee pleasantly warming his hands through the ceramic mug. "Please," he said, nodding his head to Fragile Storm. "You had some issues to raise, Mazeit?"
Fragile Storm nodded. "I did. Firstly... Why is your helm officer wearing a combat fighter pilot's uniform," she asked, nodding to Talon, who grinned in turn. Because we haven't been able to get it off of her, and the only way we're getting it away from her is off her corpse, he thought. "Arrir Talon came to us by way of being one of Tempest's fighter pilots. She - and Arrir Spiral, currently commander Coldfjord - were assigned to be rotated off the front to training duty by way of being our shuttle pilots. Things... Came up," he said, "and the two of them wound up as the group's unofficial pilots for long enough that the assignment was simply made official. At no point were they ordered to swap their flight suits for shipboard Tenoin uniforms, and being the fighter pilots that they are, they're rather reluctant to do so in any event."
"And you tolerate this... Reluctance," she asked, turning to stare into his eyes. His lips twisted up in the ghost of a smile.
"Commodore, when you have pilots as outstanding and skilled as Talon and Spiral, you learn to tolerate some eccentricities. A lot of Loroi are still alive who would not be without the two of them - particularly the entire crew of Coldfjord. If Spiral hadn't been maintaining and wearing her flight suit, she would not have been able to board and take command of Coldfjord during our escape, and it's likely the vessel would have had to have been left behind."
"Really?" The Commodore eyes him, dubiously. "How do you arrive at that conclusion?"
"I'll illustrate." He looked up at Beryl, who was already working on her tablet. "Beryl? The Ondersei escape, please."
She nodded, and a holographic map appeared in the center of the room, above the table. It showed the fleet - then eighteen corvettes - burning hard away from the star, with a huge pack of Umiak gunships closing the gap, on full burn.
"This was the infamous double-jump," Alex explained. "The shells had had a picket line in the system, but it was small vessels only, as they considered the likelihood that we'd be desperate enough to try to run and hide in the Wastelands remote. We fought our way through, but the larger Hierarchy vessels arrived and launched their gunships to chase us down. We lost two vessels in the fighting," he said, taking a deep breath and sighing. "And Coldfjord was damaged. She had multiple hull breaches, but amazingly, all systems were intact - but most of her bridge crew - and yes, I mean the replacements - had been killed, including all of her pilots. It was all the crew aboard could do to set a course and hold it, there was no way they were going to make a jump like this."
Fragile Storm nodded, gravely. "So," Alex said, continuing, "I said, 'we need to get a pilot on that ship and we need it now. We can't stop burning in any way and we're out of sane ideas, so if anybody has any insane ones, now is the time to propose them.'" He grinned. "We couldn't dock under full acceleration, of course, and if we slowed, we were going to be slaughtered. And I did not consider leaving them to die an option, so... Spiral suggested that someone jump aboard."
Fragile Storm blinked. "Jump?"
"Yes. Jump. Like I said: I asked for insane options, and I got one. We matched vector and velocity, Talon brought our dampeners in to just barely kiss Coldfjord's. It was something like a five or six meter gap... Beryl? The video, please."
Beryl smiled, and the map was replaced with the airlock security feed from Swiftwind's starboard airlock: the outer doors were open, and in the airlock stood an EVA-helmeted Tenoin and Teidar. Rather uncomfortably far away was Coldfjord, her port airlock open.
"Obviously, with our outboard engines, and the need to be accelerating, we couldn't dock our starboard and port airlocks the way two vessels of this class normally would," Alex explained. Too small to have docking umbilicals, two corvettes would normally dock by bringing their airlocks into contact with one another and mechanically sealing; but to do so would require the corvettes to orient ninety degrees from one another and deactivate the gravity plating in the airlocks. "And Coldfjord's dorsal airlock was no longer an airlock thanks to enemy fire, so we couldn't line up roof-to-roof."
Beryl hit play on the recording, and the video showed Spiral psyching herself up; rolling her shoulders, swinging her arms back and forth, then clapping her left fist into her right palm. Finally, she crouched down, into a three-point runner's starting stance, looked up at Fireblade, then took off at a dead run. Fireblade threw her arm out as Spiral leapt, accelerating her forward.
Spiral's trajectory described an arc, forward and up; a bit of correction from Fireblade to prevent her from flying up, over the hull, and she landed in the corresponding airlock on Coldfjord, in a perfect three-point crouch, her right arm raised up, behind her. She turned around, waved at Fireblade, and shut the airlock.
The video vanished, and Fragile Storm and her twin looked absolutely stunned. Fireblade looked smug, and Fragile Storm shook her head. "I am... Impressed. But why did you not simply throw a line?"
"Nobody on Coldfjord could reach the airlock to secure it from their end," Alex explained. "Large portions of the ship were in vacuum, and the crew who were safe in airtight compartments couldn't leave, while those who had EVA suits were trapped behind debris and couldn't get to the airlock expediently. We weren't able to locate or fashion any kind of grapnel, and we were running out of time. Spiral asked Fireblade if she could correct her trajectory, and Fireblade believed she could... So, she jumped."
Fragile Storm simply shook her head. "That is... Uncommonly valorous," she murmured, and Alex nodded.
"I know. That's why I've recommended her for decorations for doing that," he explained, and Fragile Storm smirked, nodding at him.
"I see... Then, I have another question. Why was a Listel left in command of the vessel," she asked, looking to Beryl. The white-haired Loroi swallowed, and Alex leaned into the table.
"Because with myself and Tempo away, Beryl was the seniormost qualified officer."
Fragile Storm looked at him, raising her eyebrow. "Please, explain to me how you arrive at that conclusion," she asked, and Alex's lips twisted up in a grin.
"Beryl's spent years on the command deck of Tempest, before she was assigned to come with me. She has an eidetic memory, thinks fast, is an experienced tactical officer, and knows essentially everything there is to know about the ship. When I'm on the bridge, she's literally my right hand Loroi." He smiled at Beryl, who beamed at him, but looked a bit nervous.
"In general, the chain of command aboard Swiftwind has been... Greatly simplified from the typical Loroi system. I'm the Captain. Tempo is performing the functions of an executive officer; second in command. Beryl, Fireblade and Talon are technically immediately below Tempo, but Beryl is the preferred officer to take command if I and Tempo are missing and she's available; Fireblade, while far more experienced than Beryl, is primarily focused and experienced with personal-scale matters, and Talon, whilst as and arguably more capable of commanding the vessel than Beryl, is far too valuable on the helm, and only takes command if Beryl is also unavailable. I prefer not to have Talon's attention split between command and piloting. Fireblade takes command if and when she should be on the bridge and none of the rest of us are. If all of us are off the bridge, then that certainly means that one of the other shift bridge crews is in place entirely, and those shifts' chains of command have already been arranged."
Fragile Storm frowned, looking to Beryl, and back to Alex. "That is... Highly irregular; bordering on improper. The crew... Accept the commands of support castes?"
"Not at first," Alex said, with a grin. "But after they accepted me as the captain, and with the utter dearth of otherwise qualified officers... Well, I keep my own council with regards to whom I trust the most. Once I had the crew's confidence, I installed Tempo as the first officer and Beryl as second. The crew were... Disinclined at first to listen to their orders, but between my absolute confidence in them and Fireblade's quickness to discipline anyone who refused or hesitated when one of them gave an order, things turned around.
Fragile Storm was silent for a few moments, and then reached to her side, wrapping her hand around Fragile Spear's. The duo appeared to communicate for a long few moments, then Fragile Storm looked between Tempo and Beryl. "Are you saying then, that you have full faith and confidence in them as being capable of assuming command authority on a warship?"
Both Beryl and Tempo swallowed, and Alex bit his lip. I think I'm treading in water of unknown depth here, he thought to himself. Deciding there was no course but full ahead and damn the torpedoes, he looked Fragile Spear in the eye.
"Actions speak louder than words - or sanzai. For the last four months, they have been doing exactly that, in violation of the expectations of their Castes, and have been performing impeccably. I would not have installed them in those positions if they did not have my full faith and confidence."
There was silence in the room for a moment, and Alex caught the subtle shift that told him that Beryl and Tempo had linked hands. For the umpteenth time, he wished he was sensitive to sanzai so he could listen in. He began to worry that he might have gone too far, that Fragile Storm might have taken offense, or his endorsement of two members of supporting castes as superior officers was a violation of taboos he was unaware of. Finally, Fragile Storm took a deep drink, draining her mug of coffee.
It prompted Alex to glance down, causing him to realize that his own coffee mug was empty. He hadn't even been cognizant of draining it, but a quick glance around showed him that most everyone's was drained, or dry. This he found pleased him, though the tension of the moment spoiled it somewhat.
"I see," Fragile Storm said, quietly. "The... Exigencies of chaotic circumstances and warfare are, being what they are, sometimes given to requiring that customs and traditions be temporarily set aside in the name of survival. No fault can be placed upon you for pressing the most veteran members of your crew into roles they were capable of filling in a crisis; and certainly not upon them for rising to the occasion, in defiance of the expectations for them." I sense a 'but,' and it smells, Alex thought. "However, the crisis is now, if not past, greatly alleviated. You have, in the form of the relief fleet I brought, access to experienced and seasoned crew, of appropriate caste and training to fill the roles into which you have been forced to brevet crew too junior to fill them ordinarily. Would you not avail yourself of those staff and return your crew to their more proper roles?"
Alex took a deep breath, and glanced to Tempo, and Beryl. Tempo looked thoughtful; Beryl, pensive. He looked back to Fragile Storm. "I would not, as long as the decision is mine to make. Tempo and Beryl are outstandingly competent in the roles I have placed them in, I have at no point had any fault or concern with their performance. As for the crews of my other vessels, while there have been some... Incidents arising from insufficient training at times, none of those incidents have been fatal, and none of them have been repeated. While I would welcome some seasoned crew to help stiffen the ranks; especially in the form of specialists we are sorely lacking, I do not at present believe that sufficient advantages are present in importing new commanders to justify the degradation of crew cohesion that it would create."
Fragile Storm raised her eyebrow, meeting his eyes, and Alex held her gaze. He might have been willing to back down on a great many things when it was only himself on the line, but Beryl and Tempo? He wasn't going to listen to anyone question his friend's competence when he'd seen it proven time and time again. Fragile Storm finally turned, looking at Beryl and Tempo, steely gazed, appraisingly. Tempo met her eyes with cool, collected calm, while Beryl responded by stiffen her back, sitting straight up.
"So, you would prefer to retain Parat Tempo and Tozet Beryl, in roles their castes are not considered suitable for, then," Fragile Storm murmured, looking to him again, "as you feel - to be clear, it is your opinion, as commander, that is, not as their friend - that their competence in those roles outweighs any and all concerns of propriety?"
Alex met her eyes head-on, and nodded. "It is. I am unwilling to bend on that assessment; Beryl and Tempo have been nothing but impeccably competent. I am not exaggerating when I say that none of us would be here today without them."
"I see." Fragile Storm nodded, and sat back. "Well, then, your assessment will be taken into consideration. I will not compel an alteration of your command style at this time." She leaned back, and drained the remains of her coffee mug. "It seems that my concerns have all been addressed. I find the ship itself to be in excellent shape; the crew comport themselves professionally and consistently, if highly unorthodoxly. While the appointment of two supporting warrior castes to positions of command over members of Castes more suitable to the task does raise questions of propriety, it is difficult to argue with results. So, Captain - have you any questions for me?
"I do," Jardin said. He glanced back at his friends - Fireblade, Talon, Beryl, and Tempo, in order - and back to Fragile Storm. "I'm concerned about the future of my crew. You've seen they're a good crew; disciplined, motivated, professional despite their ages. Yesterday, we had a major incident when a particularly xenophobic officer boarded the ship, simply to take account of it, and proceeded to drive the crew to the verge of violence. I've spent the last half-year of my life leading these girls, even though I probably wasn't the person most qualified to do so, just the one most acceptable to do so. I care about them; I have grave misgivings about what will happen to them when I am relieved, should an officer such as Opalstorm be placed in command."
Fragile Storm listened carefully, and nodded. "Your concerns are, I must say, entirely justified. I had planned to appoint Opalstorm the commander of your squadron after relieving you," she admitted, and Alex straightened up in his chair in surprise, looking at her. "Obviously, the events of yesterday leave that out of the question. She has proven herself deeply unfit for command, a fact which I have unfortunately suspected, but not had hard proof of, until yesterday."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Did you send her to my ship to gain such proof," he asked, hackles raising, and Fragile Storm smirked.
"I am not in the habit of hatching conspiracies against my own subordinates, Captain. In fact, I sent her because she has very nearly the memory of a Listel when it comes to rules and regulations, and no tolerance whatsoever for any form of laxity or breach of procedure, real or imagined. If there were anything amiss on your vessel, Opalstorm would find it; or so I thought. Unfortunately, she proved herself to be so zealous to administer discipline that she did not realize no discipline was called for. It was obvious to her adjutant, New Moon, that the gesture your crew were performing was a salute, a gesture of respect, not a vulgarity... Tell me, how would you deal with her?"
Alex blinked. He thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. "She isn't my problem to deal with, a fact I am grateful for. It isn't really my place to decide," he said, and Fragile Storm smirked.
"No, Captain - it is mine. And as part of my place to decide how to deal with her, I feel it proper to consult the aggrieved party - you - as regards what you feel is appropriate."
Alex bit the inside of his cheek, and then shook his head. "I am uncertain," he admitted. "If she were an officer of the TCA and behaved as she did, I would feel I had no choice but to bring her before a court-martial. If - to be honest, when - she were found guilty, I believe it is very likely she would be heavily demoted, and in all likelihood, discharged from service under dishonorable conditions... Having spoken about the matter at length with Tempo, however, I am given to understand that Opalstorm would in almost all certainty demand the right to refuse such a judgment with an honor duel; thus, such a judgment would be tantamount to an execution if you were to hand it down."
Fragile Storm nodded. "Exactly. And yourself?" She raised an eyebrow, and Alex shook his head.
"I would not accede to such a request," he explained. "Human society is one of the rule of law over powerful figures. Duels are not acceptable to us in any capacity, and certainly not as a means by which the judgment of a court may be refused... Even so, I am told that even were such a judgment handed down, in a manner which she were unable to refuse, she would take her own life; again, tantamount to an execution."
"And you do not feel her behavior sufficiently egregious to warrant an execution," Fragile Storm asked, and Alex shook his head.
"No. It was deplorable... But not entirely irredeemable. I would not see her condemned to death over it."
Fragile Storm nodded again. "I see. Well, I shall have to take that under consideration. In the meantime, rest assured that I have no intention of relieving you of command," she explained, making Alex blink.
"I'm sorry - you... You don't?" He stared at her, blinking.
She smirked. "It would be quite the feat to locate an officer currently in my fleet capable of commanding the same respect from your squadron that you do; let alone to cope with the... Alien military customs that have, by necessity, become part of your squadron's culture. It would have a corrosive effect on morale to place in an officer who categorically rejects the customs to which they have become accustomed, let alone one so openly hostile as Opalstorm. For the time being, relieving you of command is not an option."
She smirked again. "Besides which, barring some act of insubordination or malfeasance on your part, or some form of urgent crisis, I am obligated to decorate you in front of your command before I can relieve you of it. As you have placed before me a recommendation for decorations for everyone under your command, I would be required to assemble them all in one place and decorate everyone, yourself included, in one long action." Alex blinked, as she almost glared at him for a moment, then returned to a softer, amused expression. "Retribution's holds are not big enough for this task, so I would surely be required to request the aid of your people in finding some venue large enough for such a ceremony."
Alex blinked, and nodded. "I see. Er - Kelly?" He looked up at the redheaded human, lurking behind Fireblade; again, she was alert in an instant.
"You'd need to assemble about a thousand Loroi, right?" She looked at Fragile Storm, who nodded at her. "Luna-9's auditorium has enough space, though it would be tight. Two of the orbitals at the moon, the L1 station, and four stations in Earth orbit would also suffice, and that's only counting TCA installations. Any of the Lunar colonies would have enough space, as would the Kilimanjaro Counterweight Station and of course, Earth has plenty of space on the ground, should a ground-side location be preferable."
Kelly had a slight grin on her face, as Fragile Storm listened to her. "I see." She looked to Alex, and grinned at him, pointing to Kelly. "You should be commended, Captain. She is the kind of officer Opalstorm should be. Would you be amenable to a trade?"
Alex laughed, a moment before Tempo, Beryl, Kelly, Talon, Fireblade, and Fragile Spear joined suit. He pressed his knuckles into the edge of the table, shaking his head and grinning, fighting for control, then sucking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Commodore, she's not on the bargaining table. That having been said, I can't take credit; Kelly's only been my adjutant for two days, and from what I understand, her aplomb is entirely owing to her own talent, not to any particular triumph of training."
Fragile Storm chuckled. "I understand. We should all be so lucky to have such talented and attentive subordinates." She nodded at Kelly, then looked back to him. "Regardless, put yourself at ease, Captain Jardin. I have no interest in seeing that an effective, solidified squadron be broken by a sudden change from effective leadership to that which is ineffective... I shall have to consider carefully the task at hand. In the meantime, I think I will need a far more thorough report on your squadron than that which I have. I trust you won't mind if I assign more officers - under strict orders to observe and record, not to take offense or attempt to discipline - to thoroughly inspect your ships and conduct crew evaluations?"
Alex's eyes flicked to Tempo - she didn't seem to find anything amiss, and he looked back, shaking his head. "Not at all. We can have a preliminary report -"
Fragile Storm held her hand up. "Please, Captain, let me save you the breath. I would like crew evaluations performed by my own staff, absent the influence of yourself and your, mmmh, circle. I want to see how well they can stand for themselves without you or your command staff - or the girl who leapt from one starship to another - present to inspire them directly."
"You... Want us to make ourselves scarce," Alex said, and Fragile Storm nodded.
"In as many words, yes."
Wow. That... Dovetails perfectly with my plans, actually. He grinned. "I would be quite happy to comply, Commodore. Might I request the use of your Highland again?"
"My shuttle?" She blinked. "I suppose. What do you require it for?"
"Well, if you want us to make ourselves scarce, we'd need to be somewhere the crew couldn't possibly reach us - not aboard Retribution, nor anywhere on Luna-9. Your shuttle would let us easily access the surface, without the need for any transferences or begging rides from others."
"Setting terms?" Fragile Storm grinned, and leaned back in her chair. "For how long will you require it," she asked, and Alexander shrugged.
"The rest of the day, at least," he said. "You could send your pilots with us if you wished to be able to recall it on a moment's notice," he suggested, and Fragile Storm nodded.
"Very well. I have no immediate plans for the shuttle, so it can be spared. Are those all of your concerns?"
Alex looked around the room; Fireblade, Talon, Beryl, Tempo, and Kelly all were quiet, so he nodded to Fragile Storm. "That seems to be."
"Excellent." Fragile Storm stood, followed a moment later by her twin. Without further talk, they headed for the door, and Alex stood as well, followed by the crew. Everyone filed out of the conference room, and he rolled his shoulders. That went better than I expected, he thought, as the armored crew at the door saluted when the Commodore walked past, followed shortly by him. "I'll see our guests to the airlock," Tempo said quietly, and he nodded, as the trio started to walk off; Beryl, Talon and Fireblade headed towards the bridge, and he took a moment to roll his shoulders in the corridor.
"Captain," he heard quietly, and looked around to see Kelly behind him, speaking quietly in English. He nodded. "There are a few things we need to go over," she said. "Firstly, you're going to need a sword."
"I..." Alex blinked. "I'm sorry, a sword?" The notice blindsided him, leaving him staring dumbly for a moment; then it hit him, and he rubbed his eyes. "Oh, damn... Yeah, I... Crap, I forgot." Figures. "How long do I have to get one?"
"There isn't a specific time limit, but you should probably take care of it as soon as practical. I can... Eh? Is something the matter," Kelly asked, and he looked where she was looking; at the end of the corridor, Fragile Spear had turned around, and was looking at the pair of them quizzically. Her twin looked at her for a moment, then nodded, and Alex walked towards the two senior Loroi officers.
"Is something wrong, Captain Fragile Spear?"
"No," the newly-shorn Loroi said. "I do not believe so. I could not help but overhear your conversation with your junior, and I apologize if my inadvertent eavesdropping gives offense; and furthermore, my grasp of your language is considerably poorer than my sister's, but did I understand that you require a sword?"
Alex nodded at her. "Yes, Captain, you heard correctly."
"Whatever for," she asked. "I thought your people rejected duels outright."
"We do," he said, and he looked to Kelly, who was grinning slightly, as he looked back to Fragile Storm. "As with Loroi and their armor, a human military officer of rank is expected to own a sword; as a symbol of office."
Fragile Spear nodded. "I see; and you have lost yours, in the destruction of your vessel?"
Alex shook his head. "I never owned one. When Bellarmine departed human space, I was too low-ranking to be required to own a sword, and swords are very uncommon items among humans, so they are quite expensive, even when made new. When I got back, the TCA promoted me straight to Captain from Ensign - equivalent of promoting a Soroin Pideir straight to Soroin Torret - because of all the unique circumstances through which I've gone."
"I see," Fragile Spear said, nodding. "If you would indulge my curiosity, as I am a collector of such things, what sort of blade is required?"
"Well, I... Uh..." Alex blinked, and trailed off, furrowing his brow, and he looked to Kelly. "You know, I don't actually know. I never read those regulation, since they weren't applicable to me at the time. Kelly? What kind of sword do I need?"
She grinned at him. "Because the TCA draws officers from all over human space, and not infrequently those officers are coming to the TCA from other Human military traditions, the regulations are intentionally vague, so that officers from other services may retain whatever blades were appropriate for their prior heritage. Simply put, it has to be a blade you can wear on your belt, and it must be culturally recognized as a sword, or else you need a cultural dispensation to wear something else of equivalent cultural impact for your heritage. Other than that, anything goes; when he was made the first Fleet Admiral of the TCA, Takehito Kato was presented with the Honjo and Fudo Masamune by the Diet of Japan; while Captain Khalid Ali took a sabbatical when he was due to be promoted to Lieutenant Commander, taught himself swordmaking and hand-forged a scimitar in the style of old. Those are the two most dramatic examples; most TCA officers have the sword that would be appropriate to the service they were in before they joined the TCA, or these days, as most officers are enlisted straight into the TCA, what would be most appropriate for the armed forces of the nation where the officer was born. For you - and me, for that matter - that would be the regulations of the U.S. Navy, which itself does not prescribe a specific type of sword so much as set out regulations that the sword itself must meet. But, as I said, the TCA regulation is just that you must own a sword when you're promoted to Lieutenant Commander or higher. At least one, that is, though as I mentioned, Admiral Takehito owns and wears a paired katana and o-wakizashi as a daishō... And, technically, you could have got one when you were made an Ensign... Oh, I mentioned wearing something else with an appropriate cultural dispensation; fun fact? Commander Evelyn Medicine Crow got a dispensation to wear a tomahawk that was a family heirloom which was made for a famous ancestor," she said, with a grin.
Fragile Spear, Alex noted, was listening with rapt interest; her twin, at least, humoring her sibling's fascination. She grinned, brightly, and turned to look at her twin, who rolled her eyes, but smiled. He wondered exactly what Fragile Spear was thinking, when she smiled. "If it would please you to humor me, Captain?" She gestured for him to follow her, and Alex shrugged, looking at Kelly, and nodded, heading for the airlock, Ensign Kelly at his back.
Last edited by ShadowDragon8685 on Thu Jul 14, 2016 7:42 am, edited 1 time in total.
Everyone looked visibly disquieted as they filtered in and took seats, even Fragile Storm. Outside the door, he noted that two fully-armored marines had taken up positions, as he sat down. atAt the far end of the table. Fragile Storm and Spear sat to his left, Tempo and Beryl to his right, Talon past Beryl, and then Fireblade opposite him.
[...]
He snickered. "Is there a medal for good adjutanting that you're angling for, Ensign,(No question mark here?)" and she smiled.
"No sir - I've already checked." She gestured around the room, starting with Fragile Storm, who raised an eyebrow, and leaned closer than Alex felt entirely comfortable with to him.
"What is the nature of this other beverage," she asked, and Alex looked back.
"It's a drink made from brewing the beans of various form of coffee plant, that may or may not have gone through various forms of additional preparation, or be from a wide variety of sources," he explained, whilst fervently hoping she hadn't gone and requisitioned some ridiculous, expensive blend of quease-inducing coffee whose beans were processed through the digestive system of an elephant or something.
[...]
Jardin actually liked the Loroi teas he'd had, so that didn't displease him; but it had been far too long since he'd had a cup of joe. Well, granted, he had had some since he had gotten back, but he still felt that didn't count, as he was making up for five years away from sweet, sweet coffee. He looked to Fragile Storm, who raised her eyebrow, and nodded. "Very well. I would try some, then, if this hospitality ritual is so important to our new allies." She held her mug up; that seemed to be the trigger everyone at the table to do the same, and Kelly emptied the carafe serving everyone. Damn. I wanted seconds, Alex thought, as the Ensign picked up a box full of what he expected were sweetener cubes.
"Does anyone prefer their drinks sweeter, or with cream?" He grinned. "Both, please, but not much cream," he said, holding up his mug - leading the way. He noted that she was using the milk from the galley, and wondered what the Loroi milk would be like in a cup of joe. Probably not as bad as some of the first things I tried, he thought. The memories of his first experiments with Loroi shipboard food necessitated he suppress a shudder.sentence seems off.... Possibly "necessitated him to suppress a shudder"?
[...]
Fragile Storm nodded. "I did. Firstly... Why is your helm officer wearing a combat fighter pilot's uniform," she asked, nodding to Talon, who grinned in turn. Because we haven't been able to get it off of her, and the only way we're getting it away from her is off her corpse, he thought. "Arrir Talon came to us by way of being one of Tempest's fighter pilots. She - and Arrir Spiral, currently commander ofColdfjord - were assigned to be rotated off the front to training duty by way of being our shuttle pilots. Things... Came up," he said, "and the two of them wound up as the group's unofficial pilots for long enough that the assignment was simply made official. At no point were they ordered to swap their flight suits for shipboard Tenoin uniforms, and being the fighter pilots that they are, they're rather reluctant to do so in any event."
"And you tolerate this... Reluctance," she asked, turning to stare into his eyes. His lips twisted up in the ghost of a smile.
"Commodore, when you have pilots as outstanding and skilled as Talon and Spiral, you learn to tolerate some eccentricities. A lot of Loroi are still alive who would not be without the two of them - particularly the entire crew of Coldfjord. If Spiral hadn't been maintaining and wearing her flight suit, she would not have been able to board and take command of Coldfjord during our escape, and it's likely the vessel would have had to have been left behind."
"Really?" The Commodore eyes him, dubiously. "How do you arrive at that conclusion?"
"I'll illustrate." He looked up at Beryl, who was already working on her tablet. "Beryl? The Ondersei escape, please."
She nodded, and a holographic map appeared in the center of the room, above the table. It showed the fleet - then eighteen corvettes - burning hard away from the star, with a huge pack of Umiak gunships closing the gap, on full burn.
"This was the infamous double-jump," Alex explained. "The shells had had a picket line in the system, but it was small vessels only, as they considered the liklihoodlikelihood that we'd be desperate enough to try to run and hide in the Wastelands remote. We fought our way through, but the larger Hierarchy vessels arrived and launched their gunships to chase us down. We lost two vessels in the fighting," he said, taking a deep breath and sighing. "And Coldfjord was damaged. She had multiple hull breaches, but amazingly, all systems were intact - but most of her bridge crew - and yes, I mean the replacements - had been killed, including all of her pilots. It was all the crew aboard could do to set a course and hold it, there was no way they were going to make a jump like this."
Fragile Storm nodded, gravely. Alex continued: "So... I said, 'we need to get a pilot on that ship and we need it now. We can't stop burning in any way and we're out of sane ideas, so if anybody has any insane ones, now is the time to propose them.'" He grinned. "We couldn't dock under full acceleration, of course, and if we slowed, we were going to be slaughtered. And I did not consider leaving them to die an option, so... Spiral suggested that someone jump aboard." By context it is clear that Alex is speaking. Just reading the paragraph not so much.
[...]
"I see," Fragile Storm said, quietly. "The... Exigencies of chaotic circumstances and warfare are, being what they are, sometimes given to requiring that customs and traditions be temporarily set aside in the name of survival. No fault can be placed upon you for pressing the most veteran members of your crew into roles they were capable of filling in a crisis; and certainly not upon theythem for rising to the occasion, in defiance of the expectations for them." I sense a 'but,' and it smells, Alex thought. "However, the crisis is now, if not past, greatly alleviated. You have, in the form of the relief fleet I brought, access to experienced and seasoned crew, of appropriate caste and training to fill the roles into which you have been forced to brevet crew too junior to fill them ordinarily. Would you not avail yourself of those staff and return your crew to their more proper roles?"
[...]
Fragile Storm listened carefully, and nodded. "Your concerns are, I must say, entirely justified. I had planned to appoint Opalstorm the commander of your squadron after relieving you," she admitted, and Alex straightened up in his chair in surprise, looking at her. "Obviously, the events of yesterday leave that out of the question. She has proven herself deeply unfit for command, a fact which I have unfortunately suspected, but not had hard proof of, until yesterday."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Did you send her to my ship to gain such proof", he said, hackles raising, and Fragile Storm smirked.
[...]
A Loroi sword would very well symbolize the specific circumstances which made Captain Jardin.
Oh, I love how this seems to lead to Fragile Spear to share/present/loan/gift one of her valuable Loroi swords to an extraordinary friend of the Loroi Empire as reward for extraordinary services and heroism in the face of sure death, and as a reward for the many Loroi lives he saved.
That would make many Admirals rather envious.
Also, I was lacking the minor explanation that Human armies nowadays do not consider fighting with swords relevant at any stage in a war, and therefore do not issue such cumbersome weapons anymore. Being at melee range usually means something else went wrong, and the one who gets over his/her surprise first shoots the other with a small arm. That it is all decoration for show and ceremonies nowadays, and that the blade should therefore be blunted (to not accidentally hurt someone). Which in the eyes of the Loroi surely is a dishonour, as no warrior should ever have a blunt weapon.
Again, a great read. Thank you!
Also, how will the TCA react to him not being relieved of his Loroi command, and the TCA to have therefore the official need to transfer Alexander Jardin to the Loroi fleet?
Will they in turn invite the Loroi to send some officers over in exchange?
So that both cultures can learn from each other by direct personal interaction and cooperation?
And how would the Loroi commander take it to have to adapt to Human crew gestures, whereas the Loroi crew adapted to the Human commander? That seems unsymmetric due to the lack of Sanzai on one side of the equation...
Last edited by Krulle on Thu Jul 14, 2016 7:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
The Ur-Quan Masters finally gets a continuation of the story! Late backing possible, click link.
Krulle wrote:A Loroi sword would very well symbolize the specific circumstances which made Captain Jardin.
Oh, I love how this seems to lead to Fragile Spear to share/present/loan/gift one of her valuable Loroi swords to an extraordinary friend of the Loroi Empire as reward for extraordinary services and heroism in the face of sure death, and as a reward for the many Loroi lives he saved.
Well, she's either planning to give him a sword, or she got all turned on by the sword talk and is thinking something that rhymes with "gleesome." You'll have to find out in the next exciting installment of What to Do with Jardin!
That would make many Admirals rather envious.
Well, many of them, sure, but it's kind of hard to top the Honjo and Fudo Masamune. The Honjo hasn't even been found yet as of 2016; it was stolen in 1946. I'm assuming that at some point between now and whenever Takehito Kato was appointed FADM of the TCA, it was located, authenticated, and returned to the government of Japan.
Also, I was lacking the minor explanation that Human armies nowadays do not consider fighting with swords relevant at any stage in a war, and therefore do not issue such cumbersome weapons anymore. Being at melee range usually means something else went wrong, and the one who gets over his/her surprise first shoots the other with a small arm. That it is all decoration for show and ceremonies nowadays, and that the blade should therefore be blunted (to not accidentally hurt someone). Which in the eyes of the Loroi surely is a dishonour, as no warrior should ever have a blunt weapon.
Again, a great read. Thank you!
I'm pretty sure that most naval officers definitely do not keep their swords intentionally blunted. You bet your ass Admiral Takahito keeps his daishō sharp, Captain Khalid keeps his scimitar sharp (he made it with his own two hands for crying out loud,) and Commander Crow, although I didn't yet mention it, once convinced a band of pirates to surrender peacefully by threatening to scalp them if they made her bring them in the hard way.
Krulle wrote:That would make many Admirals rather envious.
Well, many of them, sure, but it's kind of hard to top the Honjo and Fudo Masamune. The Honjo hasn't even been found yet as of 2016; it was stolen in 1946. I'm assuming that at some point between now and whenever Takehito Kato was appointed FADM of the TCA, it was located, authenticated, and returned to the government of Japan.
I have to confess, I do not know of either the Honjo or the Fudo Masamune.
But still, a foreign, alien sword at the side of a Human Captain?
I'm sure they might want to find a way for limiting the interpretation of the concerning regulations.
ShadowDragon8685 wrote:I'm pretty sure that most naval officers definitely do not keep their swords intentionally blunted. You bet your ass Admiral Takahito keeps his daishō sharp, Captain Khalid keeps his scimitar sharp (he made it with his own two hands for crying out loud,) and Commander Crow, although I didn't yet mention it, once convinced a band of pirates to surrender peacefully by threatening to scalp them if they made her bring them in the hard way.
German armed forces require the ceremonial swords/daggers to be blunt when worn to ceremonial events.
Otherwise they would be forbidden to be worn, as any attacker would find it easy getting hold of a deadly weapon close to the target they want to strike, and they can pass any security screening without wearing a weapon themselves. They just need any sword wearer to stand close to the target they aim for, and then it's grab and hit.
My father has three daggers/knifes, and one sword. One of the daggers he made himself.
The moment his teacher was satisfied with the blade and it's sharpening, he blunted it on purpose.
The others were already blunt when they came to his possession (one being a Russian army knife his father got hold of while being prisoner after WWII - got blunt through usage, but in those circumstances having a knife saved his life - we leave it in the, for a lifesaver, sorry state to commemorate his imprisonment).
The sword actually looks like it was never sharp to begin with. It's modelled after ceremonial swords of the Prussian cavalry. I do not know if it is an original one.
The decision what will happen to the sword and daggers has already been made: the Russian knife goes to a smaller museum, together with a text about the dagger, the others will be sold/handed over to the police (being forbidden designs since the family got ownership). We kids have no use for them, so we agreed together with my father what will happen to them.
It is possible he has already transferred ownership, as I did not see them the last times I've been in his house. But then, he has a second house, and they were never "on display" anyway.
Also, none of us has any connection with any army beyond our grandfather having served during WWII. And that is a very weak connection.
We are all pacifists, up to the point that no-one of us wants to live in the US as weapons are too accessible over there.
A warrior society like the Loroi, which has weapons far more sophisticated than swords (I mean telekinetics) may value swords highly, and them being sharpened for use, but in their society with the Unsheathed, their security works differently than the ones we have available. Their security can allow armed persons to get very close to the emperor and only intervene the moment a hand touches the weapon. Whereas our securities have to keep such persons much further away.
The Ur-Quan Masters finally gets a continuation of the story! Late backing possible, click link.
I don't own a firearm... and I'm not what I would think is a violent man; I try to avoid conflict whenever possible... but I'd be lying if I called myself a pacifist. I have no intention of serving in ANY military.. for religious objections, but my sensei who taught me to use swords made it perfectly clear to me... he was not teaching me an art-from, he was not teaching me a sport for competition.. he was teaching me how to KILL with a sword. If I felt any objections to such knowledge then I should not have it... because what he was going to teach was no game or 'swordplay'.. there IS no such thing! If he was going to teach me he wanted me to understand that perfectly well and if I ever treated that knowledge frivolously or failed to respect the deadly art he would stop teaching me and never do so again. A sword.. is NOT a toy or a trophy to hang on one's wall it is a weapon meant for killing.. I he wanted me to respect that idea and understand I should NEVER touch and sword to draw it to fight with... unless I had the intention to kill with it, cause anything less will likely get myself or someone else hurt or killed. Better to just run away instead if I was not fully committed to the possibility of having to kill with the weapon.
I am not a soldier.. but I AM a warrior, and I thank god I have never been in a situation where I would have to draw live-steel to fight for my life, my loved ones or those in need of defense around me... but the fact remains.. should I be in such a situation.. I WOULD be willing to fight to defend my life or the lives of innocents in my presence and use deadly force if it came to that..even if.. my ultimate goal was not the intent to kill.
Its a responsibility.. just like gun ownership I'd expect.. one I take deadly seriously. So.. I am no pacifist.
Krulle wrote:A Loroi sword would very well symbolize the specific circumstances which made Captain Jardin.
Oh, I love how this seems to lead to Fragile Spear to share/present/loan/gift one of her valuable Loroi swords to an extraordinary friend of the Loroi Empire as reward for extraordinary services and heroism in the face of sure death, and as a reward for the many Loroi lives he saved.
Well, she's either planning to give him a sword, or she got all turned on by the sword talk and is thinking something that rhymes with "gleesome." You'll have to find out in the next exciting installment of What to Do with Jardin!
That would make many Admirals rather envious.
Well, many of them, sure, but it's kind of hard to top the Honjo and Fudo Masamune. The Honjo hasn't even been found yet as of 2016; it was stolen in 1946. I'm assuming that at some point between now and whenever Takehito Kato was appointed FADM of the TCA, it was located, authenticated, and returned to the government of Japan.
Also, I was lacking the minor explanation that Human armies nowadays do not consider fighting with swords relevant at any stage in a war, and therefore do not issue such cumbersome weapons anymore. Being at melee range usually means something else went wrong, and the one who gets over his/her surprise first shoots the other with a small arm. That it is all decoration for show and ceremonies nowadays, and that the blade should therefore be blunted (to not accidentally hurt someone). Which in the eyes of the Loroi surely is a dishonour, as no warrior should ever have a blunt weapon.
Again, a great read. Thank you!
I'm pretty sure that most naval officers definitely do not keep their swords intentionally blunted. You bet your ass Admiral Takahito keeps his daishō sharp, Captain Khalid keeps his scimitar sharp (he made it with his own two hands for crying out loud,) and Commander Crow, although I didn't yet mention it, once convinced a band of pirates to surrender peacefully by threatening to scalp them if they made her bring them in the hard way.
I'm not familiar with the traditions of other countries, but in the countries of the former Soviet Union, officer's weapon is a dirk, which rather dagger than the sword, and the broadsword, who have the right to wear the standard-bearers. It is basically the fleet, however, dirk carry and the "land" officers.
Dirk - piercing weapons, close to the stylet, therefore, not sharpened at all.
Broadsword - hack-stabbing, with unilateral or sesquialteral sharpening, and looks like a hybrid of a saber with a epee.
I didn't find in the public domain for a regulations regarding their status, except for the rule to wear, but the specifics of the dirk and the fact that the broadsword, roughly speaking, at one time on the ship is entitled to wear only one person, and it isn't an officer - the very on its own constraint.
Plus, ceremonial and uniform weapons are usually not designed for combat in itself - it is fragile, bad holds an edge and poor quality for weapon standards. In short - it is a symbol. If desired, you can kill human just one finger, and the some materials at hand, but particularly the ceremonial weapons isn't intended to kill opponents.
I don't own a firearm... and I'm not what I would think is a violent man; I try to avoid conflict whenever possible... but I'd be lying if I called myself a pacifist. I have no intention of serving in ANY military.. for religious objections, but my sensei who taught me to use swords made it perfectly clear to me... he was not teaching me an art-from, he was not teaching me a sport for competition.. he was teaching me how to KILL with a sword. If I felt any objections to such knowledge then I should not have it... because what he was going to teach was no game or 'swordplay'.. there IS no such thing! If he was going to teach me he wanted me to understand that perfectly well and if I ever treated that knowledge frivolously or failed to respect the deadly art he would stop teaching me and never do so again. A sword.. is NOT a toy or a trophy to hang on one's wall it is a weapon meant for killing.. I he wanted me to respect that idea and understand I should NEVER touch and sword to draw it to fight with... unless I had the intention to kill with it, cause anything less will likely get myself or someone else hurt or killed. Better to just run away instead if I was not fully committed to the possibility of having to kill with the weapon.
I am not a soldier.. but I AM a warrior, and I thank god I have never been in a situation where I would have to draw live-steel to fight for my life, my loved ones or those in need of defense around me... but the fact remains.. should I be in such a situation.. I WOULD be willing to fight to defend my life or the lives of innocents in my presence and use deadly force if it came to that..even if.. my ultimate goal was not the intent to kill.
Its a responsibility.. just like gun ownership I'd expect.. one I take deadly seriously. So.. I am no pacifist.
This is all good, but to the debate is irrelevant. As a man, about 15 years in the martial arts and personally aware of those who do successfully practiced for over 40 years, including on the street, I can safely say that if you want kill for your opponent, you can strike anything: firearms, sword, club, fist, even a stick for cleaning ears. But on learning that need a lot of time. Amateur, for the first time take for banal stick - probably cripple yourself than his opponent, unless of course, his opponent isn't the same idiot. Like to popular joke: "Special Forces soldier to lose their rifle, helmet, body armor, belt, boots, pistol, knife, shovel, find the flat, empty space without stones and improvised garbage, another of the same raspizdyaya - and started with him into a hard close fight" . Anecdote, of course, but there is some joke in every joke.
In time for military training there are a whole bunch of much more important and useful disciplines than training soldiers and the future officers usage of that, which they later will be a maximum cut sausage. In the civilian world can learn anything - the problem is that Alex executive officer, who has also been very little time that would have to enter into this learning process to stop being an amateur though in another specific such as fencing, or, say archery. As I wrote earlier, the maximum than can own Alex at the moment - the basics of martial arts. Dot. Although, not, a comma. Another basic training for weapons. Nothing else.
German armed forces require the ceremonial swords/daggers to be blunt when worn to ceremonial events.
Krulle, the current German armed forces do not allow any ceremonial swords or daggers, as far as I know.
For rare ceremonial duties, pistols as sidearms are issued for that occation to officers. Back when the Bundeswehr was founded, they decided to do this (among other things) to avoid certain "associations" with the past.
However, very interesting story. I would advice to ask the small museum if they want the sword, too. Otherwise I would imagine that the police would just melt it down and sell the metal. Would be a shame if it would meet that fate.
Back at my parents home, we keep some pre-WW1 and WW1 heirlooms from my great-great-grandfather, but no weapons. Those had to be delivered to the autorities after WW 2.
Among those items is something called a "Reservistenstock", a reservist cane. They were rather common before WW1 and were built by the soldiers themselfs from military related stuff or whatever they could their hands on. The pointy end is made of a rifle bullet and its brass, while the metal shaft is so densly covered by railway tickets from various exercises, that one could think it was made out of wood. Its very fragile nowadays, but we decided to keep it, even if no one of us serves in the armed forces, because he was one of the witnesses of the 1914 christmas truce.
Thanks for setting me right, Süderwind.
My fault.
As I never served, I relied on the scraps of knowledge my father transferred to me in that regard (who also never served, born in one of the babyboomer years when they had too many recruits).
He only told me that ceremonial weapons need to be blunt/nonfunctional.
The rest was my faulty interpretation.
The Ur-Quan Masters finally gets a continuation of the story! Late backing possible, click link.
No problem Krulle and it was not intended as some kind of offence.
I only know this, because of a friend of mine who served and we discussed that matter some time ago, as well as why the current German uniforms look so bland and grey.
My dad was conscriped and back in that time, in fact the last in my family. But on the hight of the coldwar, the beginning Red Army Faction terror and the vietnam war, there was no real possibility to avoid it.
Suederwind wrote:No problem Krulle and it was not intended as some kind of offence.
None taken. I simply took it as a correction of my faulty information.
If anyone needs to apologise, it's me for having given unchecked information.
So, Opalstorm will, for now, not be transferred under Alex' command?
Aww, I wanted to see the tantrum she would have thrown.
And the refusal by Alexander, because Opalstorm would be very detrimental to his crews morale.
Well, even on a ship there are toilet cleaning duties and similar.
The Ur-Quan Masters finally gets a continuation of the story! Late backing possible, click link.
Krulle wrote:So, Opalstorm will, for now, not be transferred under Alex' command?
Aww, I wanted to see the tantrum she would have thrown.
And the refusal by Alexander, because Opalstorm would be very detrimental to his crews morale.
Well, even on a ship there are toilet cleaning duties and similar.
If she does (I haven't decided yet,) she's going to basically blackmail Alex into taking her.
By telling him that she intends to demote Opalstorm. Alex, of course, being human, is within his rights to both refuse to recognize the legitimacy of a duel as a means by which to reject a superior's orders, and offer her a Court-Martial before a TCA court if she finds a summary, non-judicial punishment of demotion and reassignment to an active combat role not to her liking; with human punishments if she's found guilty, including a lengthy stay in a stockade and discharge from service... Or she can shut up and tow the line.
Whereas Fragile Spear, being a clannish, honorbound Loroi warrior (I really should name her clan at some point and come up with the nature of their rivalry with the Hos'te Blec,) would be obligated to accept a duel, and since it would be a duel to the death, to simply and summarily turn Opalstorm into a splatter on the walls.
Of course, if she were transferred to Alex's command, it would be him doing the demotion, and his decision regarding how much responsibility to give her. Say, making her Pulsar's bitch, or worse; assigning Fireblade to taskmaster her.
[e]Or better yet, assigning Mountain Mantle to whip her into shape.
...Or Fragile Storm could inform Opal Storm that the ONLY reason she is not being demoted.. is Because Captain Jardin did not want her to face a court marshal.. and either death by duel or death by suicide.. because HE felt SHE still had the potential to be a Excellent and Useful Command Officer!
So.. Fragile Storm has decided to test Captain Jardin's assertions by transferring Opal Storm to his Command as Torrai Liason with him and his flotilla.. for a Dangerous Raid mission into and behind Enemy lines.. yes a chance to earn glory and perhaps redeem her name ...as long as Captain Jardin is satisfactorily impressed with her performance of whatever command duties he assigns to her.
So Fragile Storm puts the weight of improvement SQUARELY upon Opal Storms own honor and ability to perform her duties in combat and in the chain of command... testing HER disicpline and suitability for Command!
