Private Duty is...

[Verin Oldo]

THE CNS AL'RAJA
BASSADRO SECTOR
CONFEDERATE SPACE

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Duty was…duty was.

He could not think of anything profound to say. He had done this far too often to count to regurgitate something insightful or stoic, in the serenity of the moment. But it was something he took seriously and sincerely. He knew that the paradoxical nature of combat meant that to balance the horror and chaos of war, there was order and pomp and ceremony, a celebration of life whilst it could still be lived.

High Marshal Verin Oldo stood on the bridge of his flagship, the Victator-class Battlecruiser CNS Al’raja, veteran of several combat missions including Dantooine, and he marvelled. There was a full regatta today, various Lines of the Armada present and in order. There were several investitures occurring today and Oldo took each one a personal moment to thank the recipient for their duty…that word again.

He had commander a singular Line for much of his professional career, the mighty 513. He had commander Fleets. And now he commanded the entire Sector navy. Every serving element of the Confederate Navy within the Sector now looked to him for answers and reassurances.

He gulped.

He smiled a little as he thought of his own investiture. He laughed audibly thinking of the young upstart Kiff Brayde who had seen fit to call him a close confident and trusted Commander. He was now the Minister of War. How things changed.

Since Talay.

The adjutant assisting today escorted Verin towards the main hangar, the shuttles from the Lines arriving in good order, filled with servicemen and women, and their families often, to receive their commissions, promotions, and assignments.

He looked down the list:

Charr-lee Centvin
Jel Eweson
Garm Oligard
Toffin Macobi



He knew Oligard’s name. They had not served together, as with the size of the Navy would intimate, but he had heard his name mentioned favourably. A promotion to Commander? Most excellent.

He looked to the adjutant who would walk off to greet the recipients and bring them forward to receive their commissions when the time came. Until then, Verin waited and thought of something to say.



Duty is…

 

[Garm Oligard]

The Daedra looked out of the window of the Avarum Pattern shuttle's windows as the shuttle's droid brain powered the craft out of hyperspace and the CNS AL'RAJA appeared out of the blackness and bright pinpricks of stars and planets. It was one of the biggest ships in the CIS navy all things considered and while it fascinated the Captain, it also made a pit in his stomach. His fate was not sure and this recall back to the AL'RAJA from his Terrus-class Flak Corvette CNS FIGHTING CHANCE was not what he wanted to see when he woke up this morning. This was probably Commodore Trench's, his immediate superior doing since he wasn't from the CIS naval academy and the Commodore did. The Commodore did not appreciate the less politically set up on his staff, just like the Daedra was sure he didn't appreciate having a person like Captain Garm Oligard to look after.

Garm Oligard grew up a poor orphan who managed to escape onto a CIS supply ship and managed to get a job as a cabin boy. He had worked his way up the ranks from Gunner's mate to Midshipmen all the way up to Captain commanding his own corvette. He chuckled softly to himself at being the feel-good story of the CIS Navy but inside his mind, he feared that this was the end of the road for him, that he had gone beyond what the accredited staff structure would allow him to climb and he was going to be sent back to some desk job back on Naboo. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He could only walk on stage and face the music before giving his final bow.

Maybe this isn't the end, maybe it is only the beginning of something new. I guess we will only have to wait and see.

When the shuttle had fully landed in the AL'RAJA's hanger, the captain's clawed feet clacked their way down the boarding ramp and stepped into the rows of Naval officers that had come for their new positions. A soft smile appeared on the reptomammal's face at the sight of the High Marshal of the Bassadro Sector Armada, Verin Oldo. He was a welcome sight since he had served under him as a commander of a point defense weapon during the Battle of Dantooine and while the Marshal may not know his face, he probably would know him from the reports praising his gunnery team for the most starfighter kills of any of the ships weapon's teams. Garm had taken personal pride in commanding that team and drilled them till their legs threatened to give out. Practice was the only way to prepare for battle and he made sure the people under his command got plenty of it. And when the time came it paid off when his crew massacred any NIO fighter that strayed into the path of his gun. Hopefully, he could be allowed a few words with the Marshal when his speech had concluded just to say goodbye before he was shipped off but he doubted it. The High Marshal had a lot of things on his plate and talking to a captain that was once under his direct command wasn't one of them. Oh well, at least he could count his blessings and know he got to see the old man that had commanded his ship so well at Dantooine in person. As the Captain waited at the parade rest for the event to begin, he thought about the speech that the High Marshal played to give. Whatever it was, the speech to the naval officers and their families was sure to be a good one, he could rest assured of that.

 

[Verin Oldo]

The speech was short and sweet. It had spoken of the virtues of the Confederate ideals, the verve of the Southern Systems.

“…the inimitable spirit of the Confederate Navy is one for the ages, our enemies…”

He thought of his own family, his husband at home. He would be forced to relocate with the new promotion; not a hardship considering the perks of the new promotion he now enjoyed. #

“…as we think of our fallen brothers and sisters in arms, we must strive…”

He looked down at the datapad in his hands, his cue for the next portion of the ceremony highlighted.

“…invite the candidates for promotion and advancement in the Navy of…”

He looked at the pictures that sat next to the digital names printed on the pad, checking them against the officers standing in front of him. The adjutant motioned for them to step forward onto the dais. He had studied each of their services records, reading the reports and dispatches they had been mentioned in. The Naval Interior Office would not have put the candidates forward for promotion unless they were found to be unscrupulous and brilliant in their conduct and demeanour.

“For Excellent Service, the rank of Commander is awarded to Captain Garm Oligard.”

Verin extended his hand to shake the Commander’s.

“Congratulations, Commander. I look forward to working with you.”

Oldo smiled, turning his head to the next candidate as they were awarded their promotion.
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After the ceremony had finished, Oldo made his way through the large crowd of well-wishers and professional sycophants. He spotted the newly appointed Commander and approached.

“Commander Oligard, an especial pleasure to welcome you into the Armada’s command structure. A well-deserved promotion for a career that had exemplified excellence. Dantooine was…a particular joy.”

Dantooine had seen some particularly brutal naval combat, the loss of several ships of the Line a burden on the younger Oldo. He had written far too many letters to grieving families that day.

“You’ll be wanting to hear of your assignment, no doubt?”

Garm Oligard

 

[Garm Oligard]

Garm tried not to scratch through his uniform while he listened to. While he loved being in the Confederate Navy, he didn't love being clothed in its uniform, especially as a Daedra who as a species generally didn't wear clothes when they were in their personal quarters and Garm was no exception to this cultural suggestion. Clothes were so... confining... especially for someone who had a specially made tail hole in his pants. In fact, he barely heard the word "promotion" come from the High Marshal's lips. A promotion to Commander, wow... I wonder what I did to warrant that... The Captain now Commander stepped forward immediately and accepted the High Marshal's handshake. "And you as well Sir, I look forward to getting to know you more personally" Garm then quickly stepped back for the High Marshal to move on, he wasn't the only one in the spotlight and other candidates and their families needed this celebration more then he did before the two groups were separated again, one to their duty and the another to watch on as their loved ones served, fought and all too often fell in that duty. The Daedra wished he had someone to cheer at his name but he had no one and unless something drastically changed, it was going to stay the way for a long time yet.

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The Commander was leaning against the wall. twirling the new rank insignia in one of the corners of the hanger and wondering just how the hell did I get here when he heard the High Marshal's voice. He quickly stood up straight and offered a quick salute before breaking into a small smile at the Marshal's words. "It is a joy to hear those words coming from your mouth Sir, especially coming from a man who just got a promotion for his own excellence himself. I wonder what it feels like to lead an entire fleet, probably a very very large weight on your shoulders." He could only imagine having to try to command an entire fleet on maneuvers, not an easy task. Especially when it was dependant on the individual ships to not mess the formation up and crash into each other. With a nod, Garm gestured for the High Marshal to continue his explanation of his duties. "Please, if you would be so kind. I would like to know what my duties are going to be and what they contain." It was probably going to be an aide position on the general staff but maybe there would be something more for him to do other than sorting through papers all day.