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It was an average day on Southampton Shipyard. Nothing to special was happening, officers would walk by minding their own business, NCOs would be running around trying to get their duties done. The Engineering bay would be packed full of Armed Forces ships that were in for maintenance. Capital vessels would be moored in the mooring ports of Southampton Shipyard. People would be running back and forth trying to supply the recently docked ships.
Admiral Michelle O'Brian was sat in her office, gazing at the amount of paper work that the Fleet Admiral gave to her. She sighed and kicked her feet up on the table where she hoped to get a small bit of rest before she started all of the paper work which would last her until late that night. As she was just about to close her eyes, a knock on the door is heard. Startled, she jumps up into her seat, adjusts her uniform and sighs. Upset and annoyed, she answers the knock.
"Please, come in, It's not like i have enough already to do."
As the door slowly opens, she gasps, slowly realising who was at the door.
As he entered the room, he quickly took it all in. No expense had been spared in creating this office. Cabinets made of strong, elegant oak wood. A drinks cabinet sat at one side of the room, with another oak fashioned door beside it. In front of him sat a large, grand desk, lamp to his right, papers to the right of the desk. Behind it, facing the door, sat Admiral Michelle O'Brian. She had sat up, gasping as he stepped through. She stood. One word escaping her lips
Captain.
She looked straight at him, waving her hand to the seat before her, it's back facing the door.
Take a seat. We have a lot of catching up to do... You'll take a beer Captain?
This clearly wasn't a request, and as such, she walked towards the large wooden door. Upon opening, it revealed a full length fridge. She grabbed 2 beers, glancing at the wine cabinet before shaking her head and moving back to the desk. She popped the caps off by slamming it against the desk. As soon as both where opened, she slid one across the desk at Captain Mathews, placing her boots on top of the desk, sitting back in the chair.
So Captain. Where shall we start?
She takes a swig of the beer before sitting back, looking expectantly at him
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He watches the beer slide towards him. Just before it falls of the edge, he stops it. He picks up the bottle and slowly moves it to his left where he places it down on a place mat. He turns towards O'Brian with a look of displeasement.
"Admiral, It's been a while since we last met. I don't think it's been long enough for you to forget that I don't drink."
He picks up the bottle again and swiftly moves it back towards O'Brian.
"As far as you were aware, you thought i was dead. I had expected a slightly warmer welcome then this but, it's you and i should expect nothing more." He says with little sarcasm in his voice. The medical officers down on Suffolk have told me that i am now fit for duty again, so I am hereby requesting orders for myself. Before i go into active service again, i need to know what happened to my crew and the final moments of the Valentine.
He looks towards the window where he gazes into the distance, remembering that moment when the Werewolf cannon shell hit the ship.
she grabs the beer as it slides towards her, leaving it on a coaster before taking a sip of her own. Still laid back, feet up on the desk, she looks at him closely. He has changed, she can see that much. No longer a reckless captain, eager to prove himself better than others. No, the loss of his crew has matured him, a little at least.
Long enough for me to not care Mathews. You would be wise to accept a drink from me...
Those who didn't know Michelle, it would have been taken as a threat, but Mathew had known her for long enough that he could get away with it.
Okay Mathews, I'm not going to pussyfoot it. Your crew is dead, and the Valentine is part of the scrap fields now. Nothing was salvageable.
She watches his face drop, he looks down at the floor
Daniel.
She never called him by his first name
I understand, trust me I do
She stands, leaving the beer on the desk, walking round and placing a hand on his shoulder, looking out the view-port as she does so
I'm an Admiral. I watch my men and women, those I vowed to protect, die every day at the hands of the Gauls. Trust me, I KNOW how you feel, to let those around you down, but we must keep strong, because if we don't, then those who died will have died in vain. They will have died for no reason, no cause. If we stay strong, we fight in their honour, their memory, then we WILL ensure their names live on. We will ensure the home they fought for prospers once more
she walks up to the window, leaning forward a little as she rests her hands against the bottom of the window frame
speaking softly now
We will fight to our dieing breath, as is our Bretonian spirit. We will fight long and hard, to ensure that our people do not fall to the same fate as the oppressed people of Gallia. We will fight for those who have fallen.
She looks up, looking out the window
As for the Gauls? May god have mercy on their souls...
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His head slowly raises. As it does, he coughs a little.
"My men, our men should not have to suffer like that."
He looks at the bottle that he was given by the Admiral. He extends his hand and takes a hold of the bottle and slowly raises it to his lips. Just before the bottle reaches his lips, he quickly draws the bottle away and slams it on the table.
"There was once a man who lived amongst the people in the system of Sol. His name, Winston Churchill. I'm sure you remember him? It's in our basic history lessons of the Sol System"
He takes a little pause and looks up to the admiral.
"This man, I look up to. He's an inspiration to me. We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, he said famously."
He hopes to get a small reply from the Admiral, but to no avail.
"This, is what i will run by. I will not let Bretonia full under the control of the Gallic Crown. We will prevail."
She smiles lightly at his recollection of Bretonian history. Indeed, he spoke of a great leader.
Oh Mathews, you always did have a way with words. However, i will remind you it's not our leaders that make us great, it's the men and women brave enough to stand by them, to fight for whats right, and to put them in their place when they overstep their bounds. Thats why I'm so relaxed with the officers under my command, because it is them that make me great, it is those who i rely upon in the darkest of times.
She does smile this time, throwing a file on the desk, it sliding towards him.
Which is why your about to join them Mathews. You will still be Auxiliary, but you'll be making regular reports to me. Thats the file for the Nimitz, our other Libertonian Carrier. Don't make me regret this. She stands ready, and your going to be flying her out to Magellan. I need someone I can rely upon to report to me, to keep things good with the Libertonians. They'll be happy, but ensure they know they fight for their own people. Ensure they fight with you, inspire them, as you inspire our men here. You will be rendezvous with a couple of Libertonians when you get there.
She looks at the beer, warm and wasted now
Come back to me when your man enough to drink with the big girls eh?
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He takes the folder and holds it in his hands. He opens it, licks his finger and starts to flick though the file.
"Thank you for the trust and command of our last Libertonian Carrier. "
He carries on flicking though the file and a couple of grunts are heard.
"I doubt there is much more to say here. I'll get on with it now. I'll have my crew prepare her for launch within the hour"
He closes the file and places it under his arm.
"Thank you"
Just before he leaves the room, he raises his arm and salutes the Admiral. His arm shoots back down to his side and he turns about and walks out, closing the door behind him.