by P J Strebor
“I haven't decided what sort of action I will take.” The captain glared at each of them individually and finally as a group. “But I assure you, it will be apt.”
CHAPTER 69
Date: 23rd December, 320 ASC.
Position: Mount Kratos.
Status: Commissioning Day.
Not a single stone of the academy’s main parade ground was visible through the great mass of bodies milling across it. The commissioning service having concluded, families and friends mingled with the newly commissioned officers, their tutors and a smattering of visiting brass.
Nathan took pictures in his mind's eye and stored them away. Moe’s mother, father and three older brothers had made the journey from Kastoria and were talking with other parents. Caleb and Bernie chatted with Admiral Ponsford. The old war-horse and the two proud parent eagles.
Lucy, resplendent in her class A grays held the rapt attention of several young men from her year. His kid sister had matured into quite the young lady.
Lewis of all people had taken a shine to Meta Kaspowitz. She caught Nathan staring at them and smiled as if she were responding to one of Lewis' remarks.
Nathan shook his head ever so slightly and took two glasses of white Retsina and one of red from a passing steward. Plus a glass of water.
Abner Lawrence could not attend but had sent a short note of congratulations and good wishes. Someone, he explained, had to stand guard over the abandoned Penkovsky and Okuma plantations.
Livy and her mother Finella stood in the mild sunshine wearing soft pastels in lightweight summer cloth and matching broad brim hats. They could easily be mistaken for a pair of heavenly sisters.
“It's a nice place you have here,” Livy said, “but the service is dreadful." Her eyes begged a question.
“What?” he asked, as he passed glasses to mother and daughter.
“You don't see it, do you?” Livy cast her gaze to the surrounding crowd.
Middies passed by, their young faces glowing with awe. Even some of the senior instructors nodded respectfully.
“I'm trying to ignore it,” he muttered.
“Might be difficult with that weighing you down,” Livy said, pointing to the medal.
Nathan fingered the solid silver medallion hanging from his neck. His reward for killing without compunction.
“It's nothing, a piece of metal. Unlike this,” he said, placing his hand gently on Livy's enlarged stomach. At six months she shone.
Livy rested her forehead against his shoulder, sighing contentedly.
“Don't you two ever take a break?” Moe said, jostling through the throng. “I hope you’re taking care of my Godchild?” Livy nodded wearily. “Good. For now I need to borrow your man for a while. Nathan, your presence is required.”
Nathan excused himself and followed her into the great swarm of bodies. After battling through the sea of humanity they reached the edge of the square where the crowd thinned. Moe leaned into to his ear.
“So ends the reign of Aletheia's Friend,” she whispered.
Nathan held his finger to his lips. “Shhhh!” When he had chosen to tell her everything it meant absolutely everything. “And you said I didn't have a sense of humor.”
“No,” Moe retorted, “what I said was your humor is at times inappropriate.”
Two ensigns wearing new, dark blue uniforms greeted them.
“Come on, Nathan,” Ozzie said, “you're holding up the show.”
The official vids of the platoons and squads had been taken yesterday after the Graduation Parade. A separate shot was made of the Kendo team. However, Moe wanted one more reminder of their time together on Truculent. Not to mention their rewards.
The newly commissioned ensigns were thrilled to receive such high recognition for their actions. The copper-coated Distinguished Service Medals were something officers spent years aspiring to. Not even Admiral Waugh had received such a high accolade whilst a lowly midshipwoman.
Nathan had garnered the higher award: the silver Achilles medal for conspicuous gallantry. In reality the medal he received back on Truculent meant a whole lot more to him. Hastily prepared by the senior officers the WLE medal of excellence held a special place in his heart. The oversized, tasteless slab of material celebrated the Worst Landing Ever aboard a serving monitor. He would forever treasure the gaudy tribute to his good fortune.
They posed for the vid then shook hands and congratulated one another. They had little time to socialize since returning from Truculent. Intense study for final exams filled most of their time. Like the rest of his friends Nathan was grateful to have had the opportunity to graduate.
Commodore Waugh never said another word about the Tackies 'missing the boat' and had apparently decided to disregard the entire incident. Except, of course, for her recommendation to cite them for gallantry. However, she did not tell them of her decision until they arrived back at base. This created a state of nervous expectation for nearly two weeks. In Waugh’s mind the fortnight of sweat would undoubtedly work as a sufficiently unpleasant punishment. She had been right.
“Nathan.” Moe jerked her head to his left. The new officers snapped to attention.
“At ease,” Captain Jakovich said. Her left arm hung loosely at her side. The medicos had managed to save the badly damaged arm and three months convalescence had done the rest. “Thought I’d find you pirates congregating together.”
“Good to see you again, captain,” Nathan said, extending his hand. “Your recovery goes well I trust?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“And I'm just fine,” Sergeant Redpath said.
Nathan had a silver star on his epaulet and an Achilles medal hanging from his neck and it didn't faze the marine NCO in the slightest.
“I’m sure that nothing short of a direct torpedo hit would stop you, Sergeant Redpath.”
Redpath shook his hand, the craggy lines on his face softening to a smile.
“I suppose you’re all looking forward to your month's furlough before being posted,” Jakovich said.
They all agreed.
“Of course,” Moe said, “we have one last duty to perform before we head off.” The marine’s questioning expressions prompted her to add, “Ensign Telford is getting married tomorrow.”
“Congratulations Nathan,” the captain said, once again offering her hand.
“Thank you, ma’am. I would be pleased if you and the sergeant would attend. Naturally, if you have other plans I will understand.”
“Will there be booze at the reception?” Redpath asked.
“Heaps.”
“Thank you for your generous invitation, Nathan,” Jakovich said. “I’m certain that I speak for the sergeant when I say we will be delighted to attend.”
Nathan nodded. Sometimes, life works out for the best. And as for the future? As long as the Pruessen Empire exists I will work toward its destruction. I have no other option.
Nathan Telford could not possibly imagine the terrors and triumphs the future held for him.
Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
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CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
