Bretonian Armed Forces Defense Intelligence Staff (DIS) (iRP) (AO)

[Dieter Schprokets]

Fleet Admiral Ralston was sitting at his desk working quietly when an excitable Major Dennings ran into the room, panting like a fat dog.

He was a fat dog, thought Ralston.

Ralston made a dismissive gesture and completed his work, which took about 3 minutes. Almost enough time for Dennings heart rate to drop to something between 'chipmunk' and 'rabbit', which meant, at least the man could speak coherently.

Ralston looked up, and raised an eyebrow at the man, which was his way of giving people leave to speak. He hated this idiotic syncophant, who had a will of iron, if by 'iron' it is meant 'oatmeal'.

"Sir!", exlcaimed the Major, "Ensign Cogworks has died during Tazer Flogging!"

Ralston gave a look and a small shrug which meant and who is this person and why does this matter?

"Sir! You gave the lad 300 lashes..."

The Fleet Admiral finished the sentence; "...for conduct unbecoming an officer. Right, I remember. And he survived how many?"

The Major looked confused. Like he had reported a horrific traffic bloody accident and was being asked whether the gore could be detailed out of leather seats.

"He... he survived about one hundred and fifty, Sir."

Ralston nodded approvingly. "Good! That should encourage the others! Please notify the family. The usual, of course. The Admiralty regrets to inform, etc, etc.."

The Major seemed to be stuck in a staring and blinking loop. Ralston snapped his fingers. The Major opened his mouth as if to speak. Ralston interrupted.

"You are still in my office. Rectify that."

The Major did so, forthwith.

Really, thought Ralston, The way some of these bleeding hearts acted, you'd think there wasn't a war on.

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