The Blacksmith is in the Smithy

Posted on Tue Aug 3rd, 2010 @ 4:02pm by Lieutenant JG Jonathan Royce

Mission: Welcome to Archa IV
Location: Python Squadron Briefing Room

Lieutenant Jonathan "Hammer" Royce sat back tiredly in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as the blue smoke from his pipe rose lazily in the air, only to be whisked away by the hyper-efficiency of the starbases ventilation system.

Python Squadron had been on R&R for the 14 days and would be coming back to a new squadron commander. Royce had to introduce himself, let him know what he expected of them, what they could expect from him.

Royce spent the last two weeks thoroughly going over the records of each of his 30 teams of Viper driver and their RIO's. Some of those 70 dossiers were shorter than others, some more impressive than the rest. It all depended on seniority, time in service, sorties flown, mission profiles and accomplishments, awards and demerits, promotions and demotions, and personal issues which seemed to always come as excess baggage. His eyes were tired of staring at a computer screen.

The door chime sounded. He squinteded tightly. "Come on in."

"They're all here, Hammer." His RIO Ralph "Anvil" Marshall said as he came into the office.

"Thanks, Anvil. Be there in a sec."

Marshall disappeared and Royce got to his feet. He arched his back and heard several pops, but feeling all the better for it. He picked up the PADD he'd prepared from his desk and walked out of his office and into the briefing room, trailing the aromatic cloud.

"Alright, knock it off!" He said loudly over the din of voices. He wasn't being condescending or abusive, he was only using language pilots understood. "Knock it off" meant that the exercise was over and it was time to return to the base.

He looked at the back wall and was happy to see that the maintenance crew had finally gotten around to completing his work order. In large black letters it read:

WHEN YOU ARE NOT TRAINING
SOMEWHERE, SOMEONE IS
AND WHEN YOU MEET HIM
HE WILL WIN

The room quieted quickly. I'm Lieutenant Jon Royce, call sign Hammer. My RIO over there," He said, pointing to the far front corner seat to his left, "is Lieutenant Ralph Marshall, call sign Anvil. I've been assigned your squadron CO.

"Now I realize that I'm a j.g., and there are those of you here who are full Lieutenants, and we even have a Lieutenant Commander or two. Technically you may outrank me, however my position as squadron leader supercedes that, so let's not tangle horns over it." He wasn't overbearing, simply matter-of-fact. He'd seen these kind of things happen and he wanted to nip it in the bud before it had a chance to bloom.

"I've looked over your records, Lieutenant Commander Greg Fontaine, Rat, has been the squadron XO for the last two years. I don't see any reason to make any changes there.

"You'll find that I do things a little . . . okay, a lot differently from your previous CO. Some things will be neither better or worse, just different, but some things will decidedly improve things. We're going to restructre the training regimen for starters. I'm going to increase the rate of rotation, the maintenance crew is going to have to keep up. I've already talked to the Master Chief, he's assured me they won't have any trouble."

Royce crossed the room and hit some commands on his PADD. A holographic projection of the Viper fighter appeared large and looming over his desk at the front of the room, spinning slowly to show all quarters of the sleek vessel.

"Some of you are more experienced than the others, and I expect you to help one another during the training cycles and in the debriefings. Let's learn from each others mistakes rather than die making your own. This ship is a lot more capable than you realize. She's small, highly maneuverable at impulse speeds utilizing its vectored thrust, you can get more out of it than you read in the spec's.

"Something we're going to institute immediately will be for the sake of security. We will no longer use command officers' names on an open frequency; anyone listening with hostile intent would know who's going where and when. Instead we'll use code names.

Commander Gunning - Paladin
Lieutenant Commander Manfred, when traveling as a VIP - Stallion
Lieutenant Von - Goalie
Lieutenant Prax - Sensei
Doctor Daniels - Nightingale
Counselor Roland - Lookinglass
Master Warrant Maddux - Shade

"Those are the major players. Any VIP's we get, and I'm sure they come and go like running water, we'll brief as they occur.

"You've all just come off of two weeks paid vacation and it's time to start earning your money again. The training and patrol cycle rosters will be up by 1800. I expect every to be where they're supposed to be on time or you'll wish you'd jumped into an anti-matter stream rather than stand in my office.

"I've read a lot of reports of fights with the marines on this station. That's going to stop now. I'm well aware of the traditional rivalry that exists, and rough, competitive gaming is good for everyone, but it doesn't belong in a bar or on the promenade. Remember, we're all on the same team.

"Now that you know what I want, I'll tell you what you can expect from me.

"My door is always open, no matter the time of day or night. I want every driver and his RIO to have a clear head and a clean conscious or you can't perfrom at your optimum level. I won't send you out to fight and sit safely behind a console on the command deck ordering you to your deaths. I lead from the front and I'll be right out there with you. I'll give one hundred and ten percent of myself in everything I do. The safety of everyone of the thousands of beings on this starbase is our responsibility. I take that very seriously.

"Any questions?"

Nobody had any. All 70 of them just looked at him. Some were easy to read, the juniors, the ones who knew enough to be afraid of, or at least have a healthy respect for their commanding officer. Some were more enigmatic. These were the senior guys with a lot of hours in the cockpit. They'd be a little harder to turn around if they had any bad habits, but Royce knew how to deal with those types.

"Alright, beat it." He said, dismissing them. One stayed behind.

"What is it, Anvil."

"You certainly laid the law down."

"Yeah, a little strong, maybe. But when your in the ring with the bull, you gotta take it by the horns, you can't run from it. Some of these guys are pretty set in their ways, and they think their rank and decorations are going to let them slide by. They go another think commin'."

"Drinks?"

"How about 2100. I gotta get the schedules out and have a sit down with Rat."

"Catcha' then." Anvil said as he left. Even though Royce was his commanding officer, they'd been together too long for formalities, at least in private. If anyone else was in the room, he'd observe the proper protocols to the letter.