Strat-3 Chpt-20

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==Strategos (A Great Captain Roberts Tale!!) - Part 3 - A Light In The Black - Chapter 20 - Verse==
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===Welcome to the War===
“You cheated...
…by bringing in additional unspecified forces! Not only that but extremely dezgra forces!” Star Admiral Nathan Shu ranted.
“Because our enemy isn’t going to play by the rules, especially with such an obviously stacked deck. That the enemy has not figured out doing the same thing with their access to our HPGs is very possible is a miracle. So I ordered them to think like a pirate. So they did.” Helena countered.
“Mark my words, Helena, if you were not afforded diplomatic courtesy right now I would tear you limb from limb then gut the rest of your precious little AI fleet.”
“You’re just sore that we are willing to consider a good idea even if it came from a bad source. Besides not our fault your guys paid way too much attention to the Leopards you loaned us to cart around the fighters and not where the actual ships and fighters were. But I suppose that is a human failing that was built into the scenario. And happy decanting day. 28 by your service record. Welcome to the war and let this be your first lesson in sweat saves blood, blood saves lives. Brains save both. Consider it a gift.”
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===Rum and Tradition===
"All stop…
Sail crew topside. I want my sail charging in no more than forty minutes. CAG, deploy our combat air patrol." Drill, and practice. The newbies on Evanescent had plenty of corridor sim-time, even deck-sim waiting for embarkation, and even classroom time at Port Orphan while the ship was in a holding pattern…but there would be at least another two weeks of supervised practice before the first jump outward.
It was annoying, it was also desperately necessary. "How are we doing?"
"You remember how pleased everyone was when Bedwyr took Capricious out for his in-system qualifiers?"
"Yeah?"
"We're not doing that well."
"******."
"No… Amanda, Luther Bedwyr had an Artificial Intelligence helping him, you've got a crew and officers. We're well within SLDF standards for a ship of this type. A little better for getting the fighter and small craft deployed… We just… don't have the added bonuses that the ships with AI do."
"I didn't want one," Amanda confessed. "I didn't want a Nirasaki system… Desmond understands it, even Erin understood it…"
"So why do you feel bad about it?" Lori inquired. "That's really your problem, isn't it? You turned down the offer, and now you're regretting it."
The young Captain of the Evanescent held her fingers slightly apart. "Maybe a little," she said. "I just… it…" she huffed, unable to articulate why she let her feelings get in the way on this.
"The crew is doing fine, they're going to be just fine once we're actually on mission." Lori told her. "You really miss having Larry, Bedwyr, and Seron being around!"
Amanda chuckled softly, "It's apparent?"
"To me? To Sam? Yeah. We miss them too… But that's part of the job. You need to turn this team into an 'A Team'. It's going to be bad for discipline if our CAG, or Marine commander feel like they're competing with ghosts."
"Time?"
"Twenty minutes on the sail," Mister Samuel reported from the systems monitor station in CIC.
"Well, better than we did before," Amanda allowed. "Sound Reef Sail. CAG, pull our fighters in. Helm, once everyone and everything is secured, thrust thirty percent for the Jump Point. We've got a few days before jump."
"Aye ma'am."
Amanda leaned over, "Miss Lori?"
"Yes?"
"Where's the unauthorized still this trip??"
"I am unaware of any unauthorized devices for creating ethanol. However, if there were such a thing aboard the ship, and I knew about it. I would certainly not tell myself where I found it. Much less burden you with the knowledge." Lori said primly.
"Sam?"
"I am unaware of any unauthorized distillation that doesn't meet my standards, Ma'am. If you neglect to look in the covey behind Fusion Toroid five, just above waste rec seven on the ventral side? Then you won't find one that does meet my exacting standards of quality, Ma'am." 
"I want two deciliters of it when your first batch is finished to somehow find their way to the desk drawer in my sea-cabin," Amanda asserted. "Miss Lori, are we stocked with Rum?"
"Enough to satisfy your Rum Ration, yes."
"Good." Amanda settled back in her seat, "It's not that bland shit from Cerberus, is it?"
"No, spiced rum, from Sevon V." Lori stated.
"Good. We can't be scurvy Privateers without grog, right?" she grinned.
"Yo Ho Ho," Samuel said dully. "MINE won't be ready for at least another four weeks."
"Yah, but yours is usually better than store-bought," Amanda complimented him. "I think 'unauthorized' gives it a better flavor."
"You realize, don't you, we're the only ship in the fleet that HAS a Rum Ration or does Grog?" Lori accused.
"Not so!" Amanda announced. "It's a Tradition! Make sure the medical officer clears the product and the mix for the grog, okay? No reason anyone should be getting blind."
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===Culture Shock===
Saya Yeh…
…had never been on such an…an undisciplined boat. Or rather, her experiences with the Clan had never prepared for the mix of harsh discipline, and complete indiscipline she was experiencing here.
"Well, no, see, the Skipper's got a rep," a skinny, pock-faced colonist pilot from Northsun explained. "The whole 'pirate style' she has, right? It's something you pick up on, but it works."
"That does not explain…this?" Saya gestured. "The lack of saluting, the back-talk…"
"Oh!! Right…you're from Clan Regulars, not from a Militia or Indie outfit. We kind of fall back on Spacer or Belta manners on ship, and it reaches into the Marine complement too-so there's 'some’ rules we have, and some we don't. You don't salute in the field, because there are snipers on the ground, and it ends up becoming common on the crew. You don't hold back with info, because blindly going into the shit gets people killed-but you know that you don't back talk the Captain or argue in front of the men, that's for Officer's Quarters only, and Her Rule Is Law… But she does listen, because that's how she was taught."
"Booze rations?"
"If the booze is rationed, then they can keep people from trying to work drunk," he asserted. "It's actually a social control, same for the gambling-if the crew do it here, they're not being taken by some slick civilian who can disappear. She's got relaxed rules on sex, because crew that won't ******, usually don't fight, but again, it's 'in the open' so it can be dealt with if there's a PROBLEM."
"So all the vices are actually controlled?"
"Yes Ma'am," he nodded. "They are. The Ship's Surgeon goes over the booze to make sure it's safe, adjusts the Grog so it contains antibiotics, vitamins and mineral supplements and acts as a nutritional support. Ship-scrip is like work-credit, your pay is in Escudos and banked in a secure location, so the gambling doesn't make anyone a debt-slave. And the sex rules are probably tighter than in your Clan. I can't sleep with anyone in my department, you can't sleep with anyone who reports to you, or to anyone above you, because that always goes sideways."
"So… if she hasn't… with anyone on station…"
"Ma'am, Captain Roberts didn't sleep with anyone on the ship, she kept it purely off-ship, because EVERYONE is under her when we're underway. It's not polite, but gossip is gossip. She's still mourning for Johnny Johnson off the Illusive."
'Oh?"
"Scuttlebutt is, when he bought it, it didn't even leave a body behind for burial," he continued. "Johnson's corpse was in the part of Illusive that didn't come out of jump."
"So the rumor says?"
"So sayeth the official report," he corrected her. "I had to spend time helping prep those while the refit was on. Johnson and twelve others were in the nose section that broke off when Illusive went into jump."
"She made me sit in CIC while you were out there, is that normal?" Saya asked.
"Oi, you're the CAG, ma'am. Your job is to command the air wing, which is, according to how we do things. Its a job that requires you to be in CIC, directing your pilots and maintaining an overview of the entire battlespace. That so we don't get caught flat-footed, Ma'am. Mister Bedwyr hated it too."
“That will be something I will have to get used to, but as long as I get my flight hours and can join in the exercises now and again I think I can manage.”
"We've got new birds," he smiled. "Newest version, anyway. Updated Hellcats, they're sweet flyers. They even fixed the tubby turbulence generators on the forward hulls."
“I look forward to the qualifying flights.”
"Then you need to remind the Skipper to schedule 'em," his light mood went somber. "Mister Nichols used to, but he's not here now, and if she isn't reminded, she can forget. Not much of a problem for us, but for someone who hasn't rated on a Hellcat airframe before, it's something you need to get squared, ma'am."
“This is a job with a lot of duties I did not expect to have until I was much older. I will make sure to bring this up with the Captain and the XO.”
"Ex-Oh, ma'am," he said. "That's how you pronounce it, not like 'zo'."
"Another cultural thing?" she inquired.
"Yeah. it is, and a common one outside the Clans," he explained. "Like using contractions or how 'Commander Air Group' is pronounced 'CAG' rather than see-ay-gee, while 'Executive Officer' is 'Ex-Oh' rather'n 'Zo'. Ships develop their own languages, it comes from spending so MUCH time isolated from the rest of humanity."
“Just be glad I am not teaching you Goliath Scorpion Battle Language in return.”
"Why not? Some of it might filter in." he shrugged. "We all learn a 'shorthand' and I cogitate some of your native will end up working into ours, just because of cross-pollination."
"You have seen this?" she asked.
"Mi beltawallah, sabby? Yes, I've seen it, lived it even." He grinned, "Half the marines and all the Protomech drivers swear in fluent Sol Belta without knowin’ it. The mix is weird when they cross it with Northsun Hillbilly."
“Not sure how my superiors back in Clan Goliath Scorpion would feel about this, but I will add it to the lesson plans.”
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===Things best not Said===
"AH spake et…
…Lonnie-boah, the left mag clamp felt slick!!!" Trina insisted. "Last hull walk on the setashun, felt like I'd end up on the float!!"
"Miss Trina," Lonnie Dellum insisted. "the clamp is fine! It tests solid, throughput from the power plant to the magnetics is exactly where it should be."
"Check it again," Trina stated, then slowed down, disciplining herself back into clear english. "Check it again. I am telling you, the magnetics were dodgy. Find the error and fix it."
The Astech for the Protomech Point sighed, "Aye ma'am…I'll run additional tests, and if I find the problem, I'll have it fixed."
"That's all anyone can ask." Trina said mock-sweetly.
"Hey-ho," Amanda's voice interrupted the confrontation as she walked into the Protomech Bay. "Trina… reports, you're late."
"Isn't that Lori's-"
"It is, but she's busy scheduling qualification flights for our new CAG-seems Clan Goliath Scorpion doesn't have any Hellcats in their inventory, so she's not type-rated. But I got a bug in my ear that there's been some arguments down here in Marine country… and that someone got Atkins, Lee, and Prestlin out of the Port Orphan Lockup. You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
"I… might have suggested it… to the CAG, Ma'am." Trina mumbled.
"Yeah, well, un-suggest it. They let me have Prestlin. The other two get to wait for a prisoner transport." the Captain scowled as she said it. "There are reasons we don't let some people stay, Trina. Atkins and Lee were doing some of those reasons. That's why they were in the brig, and why their shares are going to someone else."
"Uh… what did they do?" the Astech wondered aloud.
Amanda heard, and responded, "Conduct prejudicial, Lonnie. That's the official ruling, unofficially they were stealing stuff to sell on the black market from the Service. Prestlin was implicated, but turned up clean in Seron's investigation-they tried to finger him to obfuscate their own roles."
"Oh!" Trina's eyes went wide. "They didn't tell me that!!"
"Of course not," Captain Roberts said. "They'd be stupid to tell you they were facing prison time over theft from the Service, especially if they were hoping you'd get them out of fifteen years hard labor for it."
"Fifteen years? What were they stealing?"
"Weapons and equipment worth several million on the black market…and we weren't the first people those two tried to soak. There's a REASON they're in the Outworlds instead of flying for reputable mercs or House Militarizes, and that reason turned up during the investigation. Seems both of them had sticky fingers while working for Kell. Warrants from the Lyran Commonwealth to Davion space, only they couldn't NOT be criminals when we let them in… so, Trina, are we learning anything now?"
"Don't do favors-"
"Wrong lesson. Run favors past me in the future," Amanda told her. "Or Miss Lori if I'm not available. Sob stories are for S.O.Bs."
"So who's going to handle our shuttle inserts?"
"That's up to the CAG," Amanda said. "I'm here to put you on notice that you made a bad call, and to make sure it's underlined before I have to make anything official."
"Will she be sore? The new CAG?" Trina asked.
"I recommend you be creative in your apology," Amanda stated bluntly. "Creative and extensive… Now, we're going to be doing survey work. That will probably keep you shipboard for the time being, but I promise I'll keep an eye out for any dirt-work we can find so you can stretch your legs, okay? It's going to be a long three months and I know how it itches when you're bored…so, I'm going to assign you some busywork. You are to sit down and write me five thousand words on the subject of 'appropriate pranks and practical jokes that don't degrade discipline or risk lives'. And you're going to submit it to Miss Lori for editing when you're done, and while you're doing that, you're going to be keeping your Protomech pilots and the Infantry in the Marine bay from doing any of them," Amanda stated. "Am I clear?"
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