A Withdrawn Existence

[Wolfs Ghost]

New London System - Kingdom of Bretonia
Commander's Quarters, Her Majesty's Ship, The Invictus
Planet New London Orbit, New London

"I've fallen from the tallest mountain, drowned in the deepest sea, and sacrificed those that had meant something to me. Now I fight the good fight, in hopes to see the end of another, long war."

He sighed heavily as he leaned back in the chair at his desk, looking at the Carina's Cross in front of him, having ran his thumb across the face of the medal countless of times before setting it down on top of a small pile of paper work. The medal meant many things to him; hope, despair, dedication, loyalty, honor, depression, lies... the list could go on. Though he never had the courage to toss it out, and surprisingly always had it on hand, everywhere he went.

Austin observed the medal for a few long minutes before gathering it up and placing in the desk drawer, afterwards he got to his feet, and proceeded out of his quarters, and into the hall-way. Clearing his face of any emotion, he began walking past fellow men and women of the Bretonian Armed Forces. Men and women who have seen him in action, and considered themselves loyal to him as much as he was loyal to the Queen.

After a few long minutes of wandering through the ship, and finally entering his intended destination, the Mess Hall. Taking his place among the crew members in line, he kept quiet most of the time, only nodding lightly or speaking his opinion when someone asked, seeming a ritual on board the vessel. Unlike most Commanding Officers, he ate with the crew sitting at different tables every day, even going as far as taking in opinions and suggestions on a variety of issues.

Infact, he had considered the Invictus a home away from home, although he preferred heading back to home after countless long hours of working.

Gathering the food, he smiled softly and nodded to the cook and proceeded away from the line towards one of the empty tables, a signal to anyone that they could join him, as it was Sunday, typically the day where he would sit by himself to allow other members wander over if he hadn't gotten to their respected tables. Of course, commotion caused him to look up from his food as people began shouting.

"The hell?" He said, leaning over to get a better view of what was going on, only to briefly catch a glimpse of what looked to be a brawl between a couple of crew men, placing his fork down on the tray, he got to his feet and made his way through the gathering crowd towards the arena that was created by the various bodies. When he was in view, and near the front of the crowd, he crossed his arms across his chest and waited to see if the situation would resolve itself between the two.

The scuffle continued for a few minutes longer. Shaking his head, and reaching for his side-arm. A couple of crewmen in the crowd saw this motion and started covering their ears, soon others took note and did the same, but the brawl continued on. Unclasping the holster strap, then pulling the pistol out he pointed it at the ceiling and fired a blank, the echo caused a few people to jump and literally drop what they were doing, while the two fighting looked over towards where the shot was fired.

Austin clenched his teeth and shook his head lightly, lowering the pistol as his eyes settled on the two former combatants. "Save your strength for the enemy, or for when you're off duty. Not here, and not now. We have a war to win and the last thing I want is members of this ship in the infirmary for something stupid. Now... get yourselves cleaned up."