In the Queen's Service

[LancerZero]

Planet New London boasted a surprisingly gorgeous boardwalk not but an hour's flight away from where the docking rings dumped ships into the atmosphere. It was one of the political wings of the Green Front's few visible and lasting victories: a thirty-kilometer section of relatively unspoiled waterfront, kept free of resorts and the like by law. They'd had to concede some points, however - like a boardwalk rather than the simple trail they wanted. Martin didn't mind, though, as he was at the moment thoroughly enjoying both the scenery and the expression of surprise on his sister's face.

"A destroyer command?! How in the Queen's name did you manage to snag that?" Martin's younger sister demanded. Like him, she was still in uniform from the day's work, though hers was BPA rather than QCO.

In reply, he smirked impishly at her. "Exactly. In the Queen's name." He returned his gaze to the sea, trying to imagine an ancient age in which his ancestors had plowed through the waves in ships made of wood, of all things! Tried to imagine what it must have been like to be aboard one of those men-of-war during a pitched battle, the acrid stink of gunpowder, the hair-curling scent of burning wood and flesh, the salt spray on fresh wounds...and quickly concluded that he preferred the sickly-sweet stink of ozone, the iron-rich scent of spilled blood on the way to medical, and the gentle caress of a shipboard air conditioner.

Though I must admit, sailing across the sea in a modern vessel has a certain romantic appeal...I shall have to learn sometime. He shook his head, startled from his internal monologue by his sister's pestering. "I'm sorry, Heather...what did you say?"

"I said you weren't even listening to me."

"Ah. Well, you were right."

"Bastard. Okay. So...seriously now. How'd a gimp like you manage to land a destroyer command?"

Martin shrugged, and threw a rock into the waves. "I could give you all the patriotic rhetoric, but the reality of it is that we need senior officers. We've lost too many in the war, and against the Corsairs. I probably would've receieved command of the Exeter sooner, had it not been for the extensive battle damage that had to be repaired first."

"Yeah..." Heather began, looking over at him. "I've heard a few things about the Exeter. Any of 'em true?"

Martin chuckled as he searched the sandy beach for another rock to throw. "Probably not. There's no hot tub in the captain's quarters, she doesn't boast plasma-based flamethrower turrets, and she can't move at 300 on thrusters alone. Most of what you've heard is probably about the former Exeter, back when the old Victoria-class dessies were still in service."

"Just before the war began, right? Or was that a pre-Nomad war class? No, before you start hawking your 'superior naval education' on me, remember that we have actual laws to study, unlike you glorified jarheads."

"I object to that! Whyever would I dare to belittle your education, sister mine?" A knowing smile gave lie to the statement, though, and he continued. "Pre-Nomad war. THAT was one storied ship...the present Exeter has quite a name to live up to, but she's yet to see much real action aside from when she got ambushed, alone, by a Kusari bomber wing...which, of course, is what killed her former CO and landed her in Southampton's repair yard."

"You sure you're up to it?"

"I'd better be," he answered with all the apparent seriousness of a turret salvo, "Because if I'm not, that cute brunette fighter pilot based off the Suffolk will never be interested in me!" That earned him an elbow in the ribs, and they both laughed as they continued down the beach.

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Current Stories
Linus' Lackadaisical Logs(upd.3-1-10)
Archived Logs
In the Queen's Service(upd.4-21-10) | The Finer Things in Life (upd.4-8-10)
Silvy's Story(upd.2-29-08) | Conrad's Flight & Fight(upd.1-14-08)