The Middies' Berth

"'bout me problems on Terpsy?..'s not me problems. 's.." He bit down a retort that it was the officer's fault for not knowing better and thinking that kindness would turn the men around. That the officers really did not know what they were doing. But as much as they have been on fairer grounds than most on Terpsy, he could not trust him with such thoughts. It would damn him if anybody else heard. And also if Thompson might've come to a decision to use it against him.

He leaned against the marine and felt more at ease doing so. "..Terpsy 'as a few bad seeds... like those sailors. I was righ' enough..." There. There was a connection. Why were Bush and Leat so upset when he had confronted a sailor about whom threw him over board, if not for the fact that they might have known something themselves. Perhaps they've even ordered it done. But why? He was not even a full day on board and though Leat was highly upset about his conduct he could surely not suggest something that sinister to a sailor. Or could he? For all he knew Mr. Leat could've been a vile player, a creature of many faces.

He sighed and glanced towards the door and listened for any sounds that might be becoming louder, coming closer. "Terpsy don' accept me." He shrugged his shoulders faintly:" But.. I reckon she's a youn' ship?.. n' t' crew.. so too?"

"Terpsy don' accept me." There was something indefinable in the way De Guarde said it that was indescribably sad.

"She's fairly young, sir, aye. Been commissioned a year or so."

He turned his head to look at De Guarde properly. "Why... why d'you think Terpsy don't like you?"

" 's not needin' ter be a smart man to see that." He answered and looked from Thompson. "It sides with t' sailors rather than me." Which wasn't completely true, in Chase's case, but other times he was convinced it was.

"It try'd ter kill me, private. N' they don' do nothin' to find who wanted it. ..." Which was a speculation enough to say that they were all in on it. Atleast the major players.

"N' I'm here now. Ain't I?.. Where I should've been up there too! Fightin'." He closed his eyes. Again he was listening in part to Thompson and in other to the happenings above. Never to be careful enough.

"You ain't on the same side as the sailors, when mebbe you should be." He offered it as a simple observation. "I... I don't mean ignore when they do things they shouldn't. But don't go blowing things up out o' all proportion, as me mum'd say. If someone says summat you don't like, they ain't mockin' you, and might not realise anyone would object. After all, we know what the officers will get angry about, and what they won't think it's worth getting upset over."

He thought for a moment. "Why did you have Cob Chase flogged, sir?"

"You were there. You know what it was for." He answered stiffly. "n' he was guilty of it too." He listened to the voices and wondered if what he heard was really becoming louder or was it just his senses becoming more sensitive.

"All I saw was a couple of off-watch sailors havin' a chat an' a joke. An' then it was All other crimes which not capital and twelve lashes." He didn't understand what it was that De Guarde thought Chase had been guilty of, and didn't know how to ask.

"Insubordination.." He answered curtly and turned to Thompson:".. Mockin' an officer. n' a dozen more crimes he should've stood and be flogged for." His gaze intensified somewhat. ".. What he was startin' would turn into a bloody messy thing if permitted to continue. He was deservin' of what he got. Too lil' he got even!"

He shifted a bit in his place, and glanced at the door again.

"Why are ye so interested 'bout it?"

"Just think, for a moment, sir. What if... what if he wasn't bein' all that, but was just havin' a quiet joke with his mates? One that Mister Bush would've ignored, or on'y had a word with him about, quiet-like. Did you really need the cat out, only half a watch after comin' aboard?"

Was there any hope for the middy? Thompson didn't know.

"No." He shook his head sharply:" ..Don't you speak silly. Private. ..n'" His eyes narrowed some, and it was the fact the midshipman wanted company that he did not reprimind Thompson with more than a few words, and even those kinder than his usual.

"..don' ye think ye can question me judgement. I'm a midshipman. n' thus n' officer in trainin'. Ye don't dare question an officer's decision!" He shook his head sharply :" I'd not have had him flogged if he was not doing summat wrong! T' cat was necessary sure. Ter have all others know there was no funny business ter be played. That misbehavour wasn't tolerated! Or is it, here? Huh?"

Set in his ways... and only, what, fourteen?

"Ain't questionin' ye, sir. Just axin' ye to think mebbe a little different, is all." He sighed. "Only, I was tryin' to make you think about why mebbe Terpsy don't like you, an' how you can change it. Mebbe we'd best talk of summat else." He couldn't think what to suggest, however, and fell silent.

"Ye wouldn' be tellin' me ter look at it another way if you didn' think me own was wrong. Private.. n' wha's worse.. ..yer sayin 'tis me fault that t' Terpsy don' like me." His hands were balled into small fists.

"I'll show ye is Terpsy's own fault. ..s' them not knowin' what a ..right proper way is." He didn't change the subject though, and instead persisted with it.

"But, give me a few days more, n' I'll have them whipped inter proper shape! " And one would almost think he meant it quite literally too.

Again it was just as clear that he was convinced that once this battle was over he would return to his general duties and then with malice in finding men who seemed to do wrong, but didn't, he could have them turned out so that they would fear him. A good prospect of grog coming from that fear would do the boy just fine.

Thompson didn't speak for a moment, and when he did, his words were a little stiff. "'M a Terpsy too, y'know, sir. Was only suggestin' you might try thinkin' a bit different. An' now I dessay you'll 'ave me clapped in irons soon's all this is over. Sir."

"..." He looked cross at Thompson , and did seem ready to call for the man to be sent below with irons about his wrists, and even as he spoke he remained stiff and annoyed, though his words were:" ...No. ..not for what you have done so far 'tleast. ..Bu' should ye be doin' summat ter warrant it. Then yes."

"But not fer what ye did now.. jus' mind ye tongue, n' don't ye go tellin' me, one ye be needin' ter respect as officer, that I be wrong, as If I were some child. Don't ye be doing that n' ye'll be safe." He didn't want to file a complaint against the marine, as odd as that may have even felt and sounded in his own mind. The man had been helpful, and in a way, not having him in trouble was payment for that.

And that sense of danger that accompanied the middy was back, full force. He'd thought he'd managed to get through, a little, and that the lad was beginning to see them as men, not criminals.

Showed how much Thompson knew. He'd mind his place in future, 'specially where De Guarde was concerned.

"Sorry, sir. Din't mean nothin' by it, sir."

He hoped the boy would change the subject, as he was regretting bringing it up, and didn't think the lad would take another suggestion as kindly as he had this.

He sensed how tense Thompson had become ever since the topic was brought up and he felt he could see fear in the man's eyes. Whether imagined or true, he did not want that there, not at present when their minds had to be turned to the dangers of the enemy and, in a way to the company of each other. Both bored for they were taken from the action and condemned to wait below, and both having to stick with the other. Like it or not.

"...Private. " He began and realised that were he to want to have his kind of pleasant conversation he would have to do a small sacrifice of changing the topic between them. "...les' think of .other.. things shall we." He began more vaguely than he'd imagined wanting. "...D' ye Terpsy's know.. anythin' 'bout yer officers more than.. their names n' rank.. n'.. all that?"

(Ooc - have to go sleep now! So have a good one too, when you go to the dream world! And good night!!)

It was something, at least. He opened his mouth to speak... and realised something. All three of the lieutenants had started out on the lower deck. Well, Leat and George had, and he rather thought Bush had been a master's mate once, which meant he'd probably been a seaman.

"I know Mister Leat and Mister George was both afore the mast, once. Mister George got pressed out of a collier, I think. Not quite sure about Mister Leat, though, sir. And I ain't so sure about Mister Bush, neither."

It made sense now. True and proper gentlemen and officers couldn't come from the ranks, they had to be bred to be so before. No wonder then, that things had gone as they had. It was because of where these lieutenants had come from, that clouded their judgement. Made them officers yes, but not the proper, real kind.

He didn't voice his thoughts, for as much as he was certain in his theory, they were officers now and dare he say all of the above even to some private, was not the healthiest choice. He was vile sometimes, but he was not as daft.

"I see. What did they do before they've joined t' navy. ..'fer those that you know, aye?" He murmured and glanced at the door. He wasn't sure if he heared footsteps. But then he decided that it waws just all the mayhem from above.

"Mister George got pressed out of a collier, like I said, sir. Mister Bush has been in the Navy for years. I dunno whether he's from the lower deck, or if he started as a middy. Mister Leat... he was an undertaker or some such, in Pompey, though how 'e come to be in the Navy, I ain't sure, sir."

Was there something going on above them? Thompson thought he could hear footsteps, but he wasn't sure, and couldn't go and find out. His orders had been quite clear: stay with De Guarde until relieved or the boy was sent for.

"What kin' of undertaker?" He murmured and looked curiously at the door. Were the footsteps coming closer, or were they growing distant? Were they above their heads, or were they on the same level as them? He glanced at Thompson and then frowned looking back to the door.

"Do ye know 'bout the middies? Where'd they come from. Well enough done families, I'm sure?"

"It's Mister Yates's first time at sea, and I don't know much about him. Mister Chandos's Quality, right enough, though. He'll be goin' for his examination soon, and everyone reckons he'll pass it with flyin' colours. He'll make a damn good officer, he will. Mister Kinsella, too, though he can be a bit hasty with his words. An' Mister Dunnock's good enough - got a real lively way with him. I seen him once tellin' a story to the other young gentlemen and some o' the boys, and you could've heard a pin drop. He needs a bit more time at sea, but I reckon he'll be one to watch - see how far he goes. He'll be Post afore you knows it, most likely."

He hadn't been able to relax fully after what De Guarde had said. The lad seemed to be clever with veiled threats, and that always made the Marine nervous, because who knew what could happen?

"He'll be 'ppointed elsewhere then." He didn't think as highly of Chandos as Thompson, though he could not say that he wasn't able. He had seen him on duty in as short a time as he did, and there was little to complain about. He was a midshipman too, so not a recipent of his anger and his delight to bully. That, and he was much older, stronger and not at all as gullible as young Fletcher.

He felt a pang of jealousy at the mention though, and how sure everyone was in the lad's success. Kinsella he'd met enough to dislike. He agreed that the man was of quick words sometimes and spoke when he should not have. It was thanks to him that he was now present here, and that was the reason enough to dislike the lad. Kinsella had a stern hand, though perhaps no sterner than an officer should have.

"N' Fletcher?" He had dealt with Fletcher most, other than young Yates of course. He knew that Yates was not long a midshipman or on a ship, that it was his first voyage and that he was still learning the ways of the ship. He remembered how the young lad had trouble in telling him much about the ship itself. The lad had much more to learn, that was clear.

He studied Thompson and felt like a feline that played with its mouse. It could be that the feline was stuffed full, and would not do more but pat the mouse on its head and let it go. But if the cat was not?

"Mister Fletcher's a nice lad. Wants to learn, of course. I ain't seen much of him, really, though. It's his first time at sea, I know that much."

He wasn't sure why De Guarde was asking about the other young gentlemen. Surely he had more opportunity to find out about them than Thompson had? But De Guarde did outrank him, and it wasn't as though the questions were nasty, anyway.

He couldn't help feeling that De Guarde was toying with him, though, and he didn't like it, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on why he felt that.

"He's longer time at sea than Yates, or shorter?" He tucked a loose stand behind his ear and decided that he would need to redo his ponytail once the battle was over. Right at that time it was perhaps loose but not enough to get in the way, should he need to move fast.

"N'.. your corporal. What's he like?" He asked nonchalantly and adjusted his shirt, feeling slight colder without his coat, but knowing that how cold he would feel, if somebody comes, really wouldn't matter. Especially if choosing between life or death. He frowned. He knew nobody would come though. He knew that when he was setting those coats up.

"Ye'd do anything he'd order ye?"

"Shorter, sir, I think." He looked at de Guarde as the young gentleman enquired about Johnson.

"Corp'l Johnson... he's all right. Got a temper that you wouldn't believe, and he's allus snappish. He ain't a bully though, and he don't like to see any of that goin' on. He ain't... fair, strictly speakin', but he tries his best, like. And he don't like the cat."

He shrugged. "He's me Corporal, I ain't goin' to disobey an order he gives me, seein' as he don't order folks round for the fun of it. That'd be like... well, it wouldn't be right."

The answer did not incriminate the young private in any way. There was a note there that could've made it look as if his opinion of his superior was not all pure and fair, but the private continued in a smart manner of 'he tries' .

"And if he were to give you an order that you would think is jus' that? You sound as if you're obeyin' him because he's givin' ye fair good orders. Bu' what about those, not so fair n' not so right n' more fer t' fun of it. You would be as eager? You'd do 'em? Even if.. say in theory, you'd think i was a good mad order, n' ' like?" He rubbed his temples gently.