The Middies' Berth

"Lax? Cap'n Aubrey weren't lax, sir. He ran a taut ship, right enough, but she were a happy one. Like Terspy here is, sir. He was a good sailor, and we all knew what he 'xpected of us. Even down to the smallest ship's boy. Had nothin' against usin' the cat, like, but only if it were needed."

He didn't really want to talk about that, though; he'd been flogged himself once, and nothing would make him suffer that again - or even speak of it, if he could avoid the subject.

"...don' know.. private." He shifted to his side. His own caning still fresh in his mind, and on his bottom. But then it was not as if much time had passed from it.

"...continue." He decided to request instead. "...what d' ye want ter be...ter reach like?..In the future." The ships that Thompson was, did not tell him much of the private, except of course that he was there, that he'd enjoyed it and that in some things he might've also been right bitter.

"Dunno. I'd like to be a Corporal, one day. Can't read, so I don't think I could be a Sergeant." He hadn't really thought about it. "I like being what I am well enough, I think, sir." He shrugged. "Ain't a bad life, not really."

"..yer a private. T' bottom of t' ladder.. sure thing it ain't a good one either." He muttered, showing how he had felt for the sailors. They were not living a life he desired. One that would let you eat at the captain's table and not just stand there and make yourself a prop which served.

And that he had also brought to say:"...'s better as we are. Ye get ter' actually eat t' food ye see at t' capn's table." First time ever that he was invited and he'd right gotten himself drunk.

" Ye can't do it. Ye can watch bu' not touch." he pointed out. "N'...ye don' give no orders...ye 'ave to do whatever yer told. ..can't see an appeal in that. Not if I'ma ter compare it to middie. We take orders.. but we give m' too." And he turned silent waiting for the private to respond to that.

He sounded right bitter over something, the middy did, though Thompson couldn't say what.

"Mebbe so, sir. But we get fed proper, 'stead o' starving, mebbe, or seein' nothin' more'n a crust from one day t'the next. Get proper clothes, somewheres to sleep at night and the chance o' prize money. Might not be what you'm used to, but it's better'n what I had to look forward to afore I listed sure enough. An' someone has to be at the bottom of the ladder, don't they?"

"..Aye, got ter have someone ter order.." He agreed, deciding that he still could not feel proud were he at the bottom and less would he look forward to being something of the sort. No pleasantries there. Good food? Better if you were to compare it between normal life and military life, although he could not agree on that either.

His own was not littered with starvation nor worry. It was more often quite the opposite of that and so, perhaps he did not understand the comparission either.

"I'd ..never want ter be sommat like that. Never!" and he nodded his head sharply then settled again on the floor.

(ooc and now i need to run to sleep! Good night and see you !!)

It wasn't like Thompson could ask straight out why - wasn't it obvious enough in the differences between officers and men?

"Is... is that why you'm so mean t'the sailors, then, sir?" he asked daringly. Because if the middy didn't want to end up like that, it seemed to the Marine that he thought nobody else should either. He braced himself, waiting for the furious outburst that was sure to follow his question.

"T' sailors are vile creatures.. private. They live of nothing but to cause mayhem if not whipped in place, and for drink. The basic instincts.. as you would call it!" Speaking the words of his captain.

" Not a gentleman amongst them. A different kind of men. If men they can even be called." His voice held warning. Pray that the marine would not think that he was mean, he only treated them as they were meant to be treated. It sometimes perhaps had seemed wrong, but then his experience taught him why things were as they were. And it was this ship that made him confused, for it questioned his convictions and his lessons.

"'s the law of life. There be us, t' officers. N' them... the rest. You'd not have men scurry into a fox hole when you have dogs to do the job, no?" The marines at times were something higher for they could, under order, detain even the captain or his officers. And they were like toy soldiers.. efficient, non beastly, though some quite terribly scary.

"You can't seriously think that, sir?" The Marine's voice was incredulous, and he turned disbelievingly to face the open door and look at the middy lying there on the deck, in the most comfortable position he could find. "Sure they might have had a different life before joinin' or bein' pressed, but that don't make 'em savages, you know. Like I said, I only joined the Marines 'cause I'd've been a pressed sailor, else. I ain't any different to any of them, under me uniform."

He shrugged. "They'm decent enough men, Of course there's allus one or two who have to be driven to it, but in the main they'm good, hard workin' coves. They do a good job, and well, and they know it so's they'm proud of it. I couldn't do what they do - up aloft and reefin' sails in a storm like this here. You give 'em a job to do and they'll do it, right willingly. But they ain't beasts, whatever else you think."

How could the lad think that someone like Cob Chase was on the same level as an animal? It just beggared belief, it really did. And Billy Barrow, who'd do almost any job required of him, no matter the difficulty, with pride and a ready smile. Thompson honestly couldn't understand the way the midshipman thought of men like those, the backbone of any ship in the Navy, honest and hard-working, decent lads who were proud of their abilities.

The boy shrugged. He would have argued his case, but he found that on the ship he was at present, nothing was normal and nothing how he had learned. And to attempt explaining, perhaps he would only find too many questions that his theory would be unable to answer, too many words that he would not be able to support. He was a young lad, not a learnt man. He didn't know the answers to it all, even now he was more under the influences which spoke through him, rather than speaking for himself.

Aye, there were times that his convictions were near his own, and his delight in seeing others hurt may have even been true, but only as it stood for something deeper, deeper rooted. He yawned and he looked at the door, and wondered if there was anything going on above? The chase might last for days, or it oculd all be over in under an hour. Who knew. It was for those not knowing that the wait felt most terrible. Above, one would be able to get their minds prepared, down here the first blast and the shattering of timber could well have a heart jumping up high in shock.

Well, atleast the midshipman's berth was relatively safe. " Tell me,.. for you paint them ter sound as having no fault... describe me a sailor n' tell me how he is true. Flaws and his good traits, aye? We can start with Barrow." He knew the name and the man.

"All right then sir." Thompson was conscious that anything he said against the lad might be used against the sailor later, if De Guarde were ever of a mind to accuse him of something.

"He's rated able, sir which means he c'n hand, reef and steer. He's the Captain's cox'n, so he's handy in a boat, like. He's proud of bein' able to do even the hardest jobs, bein' a right skilled sailor. He's easy-goin' and friendly-like. Allus got a good word to say about folks but won't take no nonsense fr'm any of the lads, either. If you was to need someone at your back in a fight, Barrow'd be your man right enough. He might be a bit quick to speak his mind, but there ain't no devilry in him at all."

"N' his downsides?.. 's he drinkin' much? or has he a hand in cards? perhaps an admiration fer ladies? Or ..why's he come ter t' navy? Pressed I reckon..bu' who was 'e before?" He was making conversation, and a fair great deal of it.

Feeling most at ease, for it seemed the storm was indeed subsiding, and the ship felt more happy on it's course, more able to cross the sea, without the dangers that foul weather would offer. Had the French escaped them? Damn whoever did not find it fit to come below and tell.

"He was pressed out of a merchantman, I think, sir." Being asked to describe someone else's negative aspects did not particularly appeal to the Marine, especially as the one asking was De Guarde, who seemed to like getting men in trouble. "He likes a drink, o' course but who doesn't. Never seen him drunk, though. Gets on with folks."

Thompson shrugged. "Dunno it I really know he's got a bad side, at all. We don't really spend much time with the sailors, off-watch. Just the way things are, though. Not 'cause we don't like 'em."

He wondered vaguely what was going on up topside. Were they catching the French ship, or had she managed to give them the slip?

"I see, Well, every man has got a bad side.. sure. " Looks thoughtful and rather more pleasant like. "He don't gamble then? You'd probably had known atleast as much?..'s a natural in men..I'm sure there are any others that do it?"

He shifted again, thinking to add another question: "..You think foul of me, don't you?"

Was that a trick question? Thompson wouldn't put it past De Guarde - he'd spoken to Chase, when the sailor was in irons, and had seen something of what the lad was capable of.

"I don't know what you want me to say, sir. If I say yes, you'll get me in trouble, and if I say no, you'll tell me I'm lyin'."

"..You'll see that I am here, near in irons meself.." He answered with a tone that pointed to a certain amount of logic. "So how may I bettin' ye in anythin' but a more rigid a standin'?"

He shifted again, his eyes on the man. "Makin' conversation' 'arent we? I'd expect that this Terpsy ain't a ship where lying is t' favourite choice. 's what you've been sayin'. Not I."

"That's as may be, sir, but seems to me that you ain't been willin' to believe that." He sighed. "I don' think the sailors like you much, 'cause you don't seem to want to believe them. You've been lookin' for ways to get folks into trouble, and ain't nobody likes that much. Me, though... I think you c'n be nice if you... if you want to be."

"..." He norrowed his eyes on the marine and was too taken aback to say anything at his first. The man had managed to put blame for the sailor's discomfort on him, and said that he wished not to believe them. More so, that he was willing to get them in trouble of his own whim?

".. I do NOT take my duty lightly." He spoke harshly. ".. I do not get sailors in trouble...I see what they do, and they plan to do and do my duty ter' make them know what's right n' what's wrong!" His voice sounded harsh, and was cold, near threatening. "They full get themselves in trouble o' their own!"

He felt insulted and it showed. The nerve. To tell it was his fault. He'd not cared for the sailors to like him. No, those mangly creatures were not worthy even of the thought! Or so he believed.

He'd heard what the marine had last said, yet he looked hardly to not have even registered it.

Thompson came to attention smartly, turning away from the door to face for'rard. Well, he'd told the truth, and it wasn't his fault if the middy didn't like it. He'd known that was going to happen, and wasn't going to lie and say that everybody loved him, was he?

"Sorry, sir," he said, and fell silent, assuming the look and stance of a Marine paying the utmost attention to his duty. If the boy didn't care for what he'd said, why should he waste his breath on him?

"...." He fought the urge to be harsh towards the man and though he'd dwsired it, he held back again, after his innitial slip.

"Yer assumin' what t' sailors have been tellin' you." He spoke more nicely as if to supply Thompson with an answer that would be fitting, proper and a good little apology too. "But is' where they're bein' wrong.... " He saw how Thompson had begun to look as formal as the lad could be, as proper a duty like, a marine like and yet just what would silence him. He wanted to know more, not less so this 'present Thompson' was not what he'd wanted nor needed.

(ooc - think I best be going to sleep now. ..the day tired me out x.x. Good night! )

He relaxed a little. It seemed the boy wanted to continue talking after all. "Cob Chase was never rude to an officer since I've knowed him," he said. "He wouldn't have started just like that, 'specially to someone newly come aboard."

He sighed and turned back a little. "I dunno, but it seems to me that you want to think the worst of folks before you've got to know 'em. I ain't sayin' that's how it is, it's just how it looks. If you gave folks a chance, you'd find they ain't as bad as that. You might even get to likin' 'em, a bit."

"I don't like the tone in which you speak, private." He didn't like the critique neither. It told that there'd been doubt in his decision and that should not have been accuring, not from the officers - which it did - and even less from the rest. What has been done, that man had deserved it. Perhaps others were ignorant enough not to know when a sailor's been doing ill, but he was not.

"You don' know what went on." He answered harshly, an officer's tone to that of a subordinate. "m' not on this ship to like, but ter do me duty to the King n' to t' navy.. n' against the Frogs!" He crossed his hands over his chest.

If he weren't under guard now, and as close to being clapped in shackles as there was any other time, he might've not been having this conversation and if he had, Thompson would certainly have faired much worse. As for now he could fume and he could speak harsh, but threatening would not do.Not when it could only be laughed off.

"..I might like 'em if i know that they ain' t' perfect ye wish ter paint them. So.. Tell em' to me in the proper real way.. and I'll give yer a thought. ..But jus' be warned fer earlier, private. MY actions before had been much justified. N' Chase had been deservin'!"

What was the point of asking the question if you didn't want to hear the answer? Thompson shrugged and again stiffened to the proper position of attention. "Seems to me, sir, we'd best talk of summat else, 'cause you don't like what I have to say, sir." Or they could just... not talk at all, and the way he'd just been spoken to, that would suit him just fine.

And after he'd only tried to help, too. Some folk just wouldn't be helped. Was this lad going to be one of those?

"...'s not that." He was very much interested in what he had to say, not perhaps the kind things about the people, but the other, he has been wanting to hear of more. He frowned and felt frustrated. It was so much harder to get something from someone when you could not only order them to do it. He wanted to yell at Thompson for the nerve, but knew it would do him no good. He was angry with the lieutenants, annoyed with the sailors and worried about that midshipman that came in at the worst time possible and he was frustrated with the private, for the man could refuse to talk and he could turn away and do his duty. He did not have something to use against him. Not even with Yates's suspicions he couldn't. The middie would, if he accused any, accuse both.

He rubbed his temples again and muttered something to himself before he stilled and willed his voice into something more pleasant:" You critisize me...'s not summat anybody was ter hear.. 'specially an officer." Or one in the making.

"..fine then.. les'.. ye help a young new middie jus' comin' onto this ship." So sweet and gentle the tone. "...what does he 'ave ter know about t' officers, not ter get 'imself in trouble?" Too late for that. "Yer know... 's me, i get angry at things that other may no' care 'bout. ..what 'bout them?"

He was changeable, wasn't he, this middy? Or did this sweetness of temper simply mean he wanted to learn something to jump on in a moment? He'd almost done that to Thompson topside, before asking genuine questions about the storm and any action to come.

"They'm fair. They don't only punish with the cat - that's the last resort, or if a man's allus doin' the same thing wrong. If - oh, I dunno - if someone's skylarkin' in the riggin' and showin' off by doin' summat dangerous, they'll call him down and have a word with him, quite-like. They'll give a man a chance to put it right and try again afore punishing him." He couldn't really suggest that the middy watch the officers, not after Mister Leat and Mister Bush were so angry. He wouldn't want to, after that.

He thought a moment. "You should watch how Mister Chandos and Mister Kinsella are," he said. "See what's worth gettin' angry at, and what isn't."

Did he want the help? Thompson didn't know, and was starting to grow wary, which wouldn't help later if it came out that the lad really was trying to learn.