Truth and Beauty 2-5

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“My name is Russ,” said Stephen.

“Jevons, this is Russ, who I so rudely bowled over twice today. Russ, Jevons and I went to the academy together, and he was just telling us that he has been superseded. Hopefully they will give you something real this time.”

Stephen and Jevons exchanged pleasantries and Jevons continued, “yes, superseded and assigned to the Fury, the orders came through just after you left. It’s only a jobbing post until the end of session - Fury’s captain is an MP - but I’m free of the transport board. Why anyone would want to be appointed to a transport is beyond me.”

The two cosmonauts shook their heads in bewilderment. Stephen did the same, though in bewilderment of a different sort.

“Wiltshire might do it, he never did know his ass from his elbow,” said Jack, then after a barely-decent pause he said,” but I have been promoted, too, into the Wrath, ha ha ha. Perhaps we can go cruising together!”

“Fantastic!” said Jevons, peering through the smokey gloom, and the gloom of his earlier visit to the Goat and Compasses, at Jack’s epaulettes. “Bartender, Bartender, there, a bottle of whiskey and three glasses! You’ll join us, Russ, yes? Three glasses! What sort of brig is she?”

“She must be a Vengeance class, probably one of the later ones, maybe a type three? I only just go word an hour or so ago.”

“The Toledo class are all named for cities, and the Churchills after politicos,” said Jevons, filling their glasses. “Russ,” he passed a glass to Stephen, “Jack,” he passed another to Jack. “To the swabs!”

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