Getting to the bottom of things, 10th June

(After Mess Duties and In Irons)

Thompson pulled his jacket straight, and headed back down to the messdeck. He needed to check the sentries, but that wouldn't take long, and then, hopefully, he could get to the bottom of why, precisely, Chase and Seward had been fighting... and what Cattling had to do with it. Because there was no way that Cattling had nothing to do with it at all, he and Seward being such cronies.

The problem was, now, that Thompson had rank and the sailors were even less likely to talk to him than they had been before. He wanted to find something that he could lay before the Captain that would mean Chase would get off, if possible, or have a seriously reduced sentence in comparison... But the chances of the sailors getting that were slim, to say the least.

His rounds complete, he headed back to the messdeck in search of Tide Evans, hoping that the sailor would help.

With Chase and Seward now in irons and the messdeck having mostly returned to its usual mealtime routine, Tide Evans had thought it was safe to finish his dinner before escaping topside. His conversations with Button and De Guarde were both finished and he reckoned that repeat chats weren't going to be necessary. That didn't, however, account for that upstart corporal.

"Lookit who's back fer another go," muttered Adam Wise, keeping his gaze low. His warning caused Tide to glance quickly over his shoulder, whereupon he groaned.

"Can't leave well 'nuff alone, he can't." Bloody bullock. He'd probably be wanting to know why Tide hadn't intervened in the fight before it had gotten out of hand. Even though the quartermaster didn't consider the fight to be anything more evil than an overdue delivering of justice.

Judging by the look Evans had just given him, this whole conversation wasn't going to go well. He had to at least try, though. He wasn't going to say anything about Evans' not stopping the fight - well, he wasn't planning on mentioning that detail if he didn't have to, anyway.

"Mind if I have a word, Mister Evans?" he asked, adding, "It's about why Chase an' Seward was havin' that fight." He found himself hoping that he wouldn't be brushed off because there would be no chance for Chase if that happened.

"Is it." Tide finished off his grog. "A private word, I guess?"

It probably would be. Like as not Thompson wouldn't have the bottom to speak his piece here, where the Tars could hear.

"Don't matter. Here's as good as anywhere." He might risk being interrupted or shouted down, but he wasn't going to show himself as shy, though he might regret not going somewhere more private. "D'you know what Chase an' Seward was fightin' about?" he asked, bluntly.

Well. He cut right to it, didn't he? Tide shrugged. "So what if I do?"

"Chase ain't the sort to go fightin' without no good reason," Thompson pointed out. "An' Seward's a grumpy sort of cove who's bin up to no good, pickin' on the ship's boys. Reckon his mate Cattling's got summat to do with that an' all. So if there's anythin' I can bring to the Captain later on that'll help Chase out, show why he had a damn good reason for doin' it... it'll help." He hoped.

Thompson had struck on part of it, probably without knowing. Not that Tide was prepared to let him know that.

"Didn't know you cared," the quartermaster said blandly. "Can't say I knows what you mean 'bout Cattling though. Seems that bit of fightin' didn't have anything to do with him, 'less I'm missin' somethin'."

"I bleedin' care when folks get picked on for no reason. An' if Chase was fightin' 'cause of that, it'll be better than if he was fightin' 'cause he didn't like summat Seward said, see? An' if it was that Seward's bin pickin' on the boys, he ain't the only one who's doin' that."

Honestly. Trying to get any sort of agreement out of Evans was worse than trying to secure a beach landing in soft sand when under fire at night. With legs that felt like they were made of wet string.

Tide rolled his eyes. Trying to interfere, again. What was it with the man?

"Mebbe he was, mebbe he weren't. Mebbe it were both. But if there's other lads throwin' their weight 'round, sure we'll deal with it our own selves."

He hadn't been aware of Cattling being involved, but that seemed to be what Thompson was saying. If so, he'd attend the matter himself. In a way, Tide supposed it made sense. Seward did have an accomplice the night De Guarde went over the side. What were the odds that man was Cattling? It was certainly something to look into.

"Look, if you know anythin' I can say that'll help Chase out, for God's sake tell me. Else I got no choice but to 'ave 'em both for the same thing, which'll mean, well." He didn't want Seward to get away with what he'd been doing either, but causing a fight in the middle of the messdeck at dinner-time was completely the wrong way to go about it.

"Oh mebbe I knows somethin', but I dunno's it's aynthin' for a bullock to be involved in. What's it to you, anyways?"

As far as Tide was concerned, it was a matter for the sailors to sort out. It had only affected the Marines because this one had stuck his nose in.

Shaking his head, he added, " 'Cause it's seemin' to me like you're tryin' to tell us'ns how to manage our own affairs, see. Or even lookin' to do it for us. Mebbe if you knows somethin', you oughta tell us."

"I wouldn't do that, like you wouldn't tell us how to manage our business. Only I'd've thought you'd want me to do me best to help him out."

And why Tide hadn't stepped in to stop the fight or something, before Thompson had had to, the Marine couldn't say.

Right. Sure. But maybe this was a conversation that was best continued elsewhere. Wise and the others were listening with obvious interest and Tide wasn't about to let them hear what he really ought to say.

"You really want to help that Cornish idiot, then?"

"Gotta be better'n not," Thompson said. Chase really was an idiot to have ended up fighting like that. "Topside?" he suggested, noticing the interested looks that the sailors were giving him.

Tide snorted. "Can't spit down here, anyway." He'd have gone up soon anyway, to use the heads and then to try the fresh stock of spitting tobacco that he'd got off Tanner Joe.

"It'll be a short chat anyways," he went on as he stood up from the bench. "Chase's near to beyond helpin'."

"He don't think, times, that's his problem. Good lad, though - means well, at least," Thompson said, pulling his pipe and baccy pouch out as he followed Evans up on deck.

That received only a noncommittal grunt in reply, though this was due in part to Tide being busy stuffing a healthy pinch of tobacco leaf into his cheek.

"I ain't 'gainst him scrappin' like he does, anyways," the quartermaster said eventually, privately relieved to reach the foc's'le.

"It's not like I mind folks fightin' to sort their diff'rences out," Thompson replied, filling his pipe. "Only, when it's in full view of half the crew an' all... It ain't right. Folks like you an' me are s'posed to keep order an' if we don't an' the officers hear 'bout it, there'll be trouble for us an' all." He shrugged. "That ain't what I'm up here for, though. If there was a reason for Chase fightin'... if Seward provoked him or summat, it'd be a reason for the Captain to go easy on him, wouldn't it."