Truth and Beauty 3-1

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Chapter 3

Jack did have to report aboard that night, but first he had to forward his mail, arrange for the return of his library books, write and post a letter of thanks to the Senior Undersecretary for the appointment, write and post another letter of thanks to his uncle, and finally settle his account at the inn with his now elastic credit, so they would release his chest when he sent a midshipman (one of his own midshipmen, he thought with a smile) for it. This entailed packing, which in spite of his enforcedly frugal lifestyle included a phenomenal amount of possessions - no sooner had he strapped his chest shut and fitted its lock then he spied one of the trays sitting brazenly on the corner of the bed, forcing him to undo the lock and buckles and unstrap the chest to fit it in. And once he had figured out how to fit in the tray and was half way through strapping the chest up again it occurred to him that his sextant, presently in the lowest drawer of the chest, cushioned in a pair of socks, would probably be better off in his day bag so that he could sync it to Wrath’s central computer as soon as he was aboard and read in. Finally, during his last sweep of the room before exiting it for the last time he found one of his pistol’s spare batteries in the drawer of the bedside table, where he had carelessly left it after cleaning and charging it last night. Eventually, though, the trays were all situated in the trunk, the trunk was strapped, buckled, and locked; his sextant was safely in the side pocket of his day bag, his pistol and its batteries were all accounted for and packed; and he hauled the chest down to the lobby where he settled his bill and left instructions for the chest to be released when his (his!) midshipman called for it.

“Now,” he said, pulling out his phone to log into the Navy’s data site, “let’s see where she is.” A smile spread across his face as thought of the Wrath, that sweet little brig, his sweet little brig - to be replaced by a moment later by a frown. “That can’t be right,” he said, pocketing the phone, pulling his commission from an inner pocket, and reading it closely for what was in fact the first time:

By the right honorable Lord X_____, Knight of the Bath, Vice Admiral of the White, and Commander-in-Chief of His Majesty’s Vessels employed and to be employed in the Home Sector, &c., &c.,

You are hereby required and directed to proceed on board His Majesty’s Brig Roth to accept the charge of Officer-in-Charge of Her, at the same time directing all those Persons belonging to Her to accept You as Her Officer-in-Charge, and to conduct their Selves in their employments with all due respect to You, her commander; and likewise shall You conduct yourself in accordance with the General Instructions and with and Orders and Directions as You may receive from your Superior Officers in His Majesty’s Service.

For so doing this shall be your order and your Commission.

Neither You nor Any of You shall answer to the contrary, as You shall do so at your Peril.

Given this, the 22 day of October, at 0900 hours to John Richard O’Brian, Esquire, hereby appointed Commander of His Majesty's Navy.

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