My firs omake for this quest to help with naval morale:
Second lieutenant Samantha Colt appeared calm and unruffled as she made her rounds of inspections of the enlisted quarters. That calm however was a lie, one that made Samantha glad the few people that knew her well enough to spot the telltale signs of stress were back dirt-side literal light years away. Or at least so she told herself in an attempt to avoid mixing homesickness with pre-battle stress. As she was about to enter the last compartment of this "morning's" rounds she heard low-pitched voices coming from within. Inexperienced though the young officer may have been she knew he enlisted often hid many of their problems and conflicts from their commissioned superiors so she decided to stop and listen for a bit.
"...I'm not scared. The God Emperor protects and he loves best those who fall serving Him," a pugnacious voice spoke "I just hope I can take as many xeno filth with me when my time comes." the same voice continued a hint of uncertainty clear for all the bravado.
The muted sound of heavy footsteps could be heard as another of the room's occupants reacted to the words.
"Rodriquez, I knew you were stupid but try not to spread it around." Petty Officer McFarland all-but barked in reply while still managing to keep his voice level with a skill born of long practice Samantha imagined.
"Our job, for you and any other fresh-out-of-Basic gormless wonders out there is not to die for the Emperor it is to make the damn Xeons and Heretics die for whatever disgusting Warp Filth they worship." McFarland continued in a stern voice "If you go into a fight expectin' to die than you'll die right quick and be of no more use to your comrades or the Emperor except as none-too sturdy cover in a firefight. Seeing as you have passed Basic somehow all of you are more use on this ship alive so the next time you or anyone else goes on about having a glorious death you'll will be cleaning the glorious privies for three days straight. Is that understood Rodriguez?"
Samantha could not completely stifle a snort of laughter that was both un-ladylike and un-officerlike at the vigor with which the hapless Voidman answered "Sir, yes Sir."
Feeling more lighthearted than she had ever since this deployment had begun the lieutenant stopped her unofficial intelligence gathering and entered the room, commencing her inspection. She was not surprised to find everything in order
It was only later, when she caught herself humming at console duty, that Samantha wondered if perhaps she had not hidden her pre-battle jitters as well as she imagined. That that inopportune speech may have meant as much for wet-behind-the-ear officers as it was for new enlisted. If her suspicions were right that this must be what her more colorful instructors back at the academy had meant about the NCOs managing baby officers until they learned to toddle about on their own. All things considered she figured she owed McFarland her gratitude regardless.
A learning experience
Second lieutenant Samantha Colt appeared calm and unruffled as she made her rounds of inspections of the enlisted quarters. That calm however was a lie, one that made Samantha glad the few people that knew her well enough to spot the telltale signs of stress were back dirt-side literal light years away. Or at least so she told herself in an attempt to avoid mixing homesickness with pre-battle stress. As she was about to enter the last compartment of this "morning's" rounds she heard low-pitched voices coming from within. Inexperienced though the young officer may have been she knew he enlisted often hid many of their problems and conflicts from their commissioned superiors so she decided to stop and listen for a bit.
"...I'm not scared. The God Emperor protects and he loves best those who fall serving Him," a pugnacious voice spoke "I just hope I can take as many xeno filth with me when my time comes." the same voice continued a hint of uncertainty clear for all the bravado.
The muted sound of heavy footsteps could be heard as another of the room's occupants reacted to the words.
"Rodriquez, I knew you were stupid but try not to spread it around." Petty Officer McFarland all-but barked in reply while still managing to keep his voice level with a skill born of long practice Samantha imagined.
"Our job, for you and any other fresh-out-of-Basic gormless wonders out there is not to die for the Emperor it is to make the damn Xeons and Heretics die for whatever disgusting Warp Filth they worship." McFarland continued in a stern voice "If you go into a fight expectin' to die than you'll die right quick and be of no more use to your comrades or the Emperor except as none-too sturdy cover in a firefight. Seeing as you have passed Basic somehow all of you are more use on this ship alive so the next time you or anyone else goes on about having a glorious death you'll will be cleaning the glorious privies for three days straight. Is that understood Rodriguez?"
Samantha could not completely stifle a snort of laughter that was both un-ladylike and un-officerlike at the vigor with which the hapless Voidman answered "Sir, yes Sir."
Feeling more lighthearted than she had ever since this deployment had begun the lieutenant stopped her unofficial intelligence gathering and entered the room, commencing her inspection. She was not surprised to find everything in order
It was only later, when she caught herself humming at console duty, that Samantha wondered if perhaps she had not hidden her pre-battle jitters as well as she imagined. That that inopportune speech may have meant as much for wet-behind-the-ear officers as it was for new enlisted. If her suspicions were right that this must be what her more colorful instructors back at the academy had meant about the NCOs managing baby officers until they learned to toddle about on their own. All things considered she figured she owed McFarland her gratitude regardless.
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