From the journal of Fleet Commander Toasty Warren, FC 7th Fleet.
I keep gettin' updates from Rovsky about what her other fleets are doin'. She keeps tellin' me about how well Fleet Commander Moody is doin'. She keeps lettin' me know how good Fleet Commander John is doin'. Yeah, great. I wished she'd just shut the hell up. I didn't volunteer for this damn job.
I ain't no Fourth Fleet and I ain't no Sixth Fleet and I ain't got myself a fancy MSS or gunship to pilot. All I got is a banged up ol' Arnican-DE shuttle. Godamnit.
"Toasty," I says to myself every day, "ya just gotta hang in there and do your job and help the Fleets out." Okay, so I got a mission and a boat and a crew... Well, at least somethin' I'm callin' a crew right now.
See, my crew consists of one recruit from the Emerald States on the planet Thorvsky. His name's "Liver." Yeah, like "liver and onions." Okay, so here's the story 'bout Liver:
'Bout the time the Battle of Zulif was takin' place, I was running a firesquad of Marines from their Hub Base to a secure area on Thorvsky.
See, my Arnican-DE is made to pick up stray Marines and deliver tenderly into a nice safe place or a battlefield. This Arnican is built to take a lot of hits, travel fast, and to dump an' pick up crew with the speed of a cheetah. I ain't got no big guns on this boat 'cause she's not a fighter. I do have a nice assortment of anti-personnel guns to give cover to Marines runnin' like hell into our out of the boat.
Anyways, I made my delivery and Rovsky gets hold of me and informs me that I'm now Fleet Commander of Seventh Fleet. What a big, steamin' pile o' crap that was. Officially, I'm runnin' a "Seed Fleet." Bein' a Fleet Commander ain't as much a promotion as it is a major pain in the ass.
So, anyways, I'm stuck on Thorvsky 'cause the Hub Base is shut down. Seems the Earth Standard Credit took a dump and nobody's gonna take it. I send a message to Rovsky sayin' I'm stuck and I can get off the planet 'cause I can't refuel an' restock.
That's when a Duke of the Emerald States give me a call an' says he wants to help me out. He'll pay for the fuel and supplies and even give me some help with the crew. I don't trust these Thorvsky turds as far as I can throw 'em, but I was stuck an' took the help.
So Duke tells me to go to his continental estate where his nephew is takin' care of the household. He even sends me a shuttle to take me. When I get there the Duke's nephew is a total bastard, makin' fun of me and givin' me a hard time while his cronies are surroundin' him laughin' and havin' a great time. I couldn't punch him 'cause I'd get my fat ass kicked by the nephew's bodyguards.
The Duke ordered his nephew to allow me to take any qualified personnel from the household staff for my crew. So the nephew tells me his definition of "qualified" means stupid and ignorant. I'm presented with two indentured servants- Liver and a 90 year-old guy- an' the nephew told me I had to take them or face the scorn of the Duke. It would of been an insult to refuse the Duke's gift of crew members.
The asshole nephew's face showed his shock when I said I'd take Liver. The old guy was too old for Fleet duty (which is a lie 'cause there's no maximum age for Fleet service) I told him. So, with Liver in hand, I went back to my shitty little Arnican an' worked on gettin' my revenge on that asshole nephew.
Next Chapter >> 18: 4th Fleet
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