Aboard DEFIANCE after the battle

"That will be all. Good day to you, Captain, and be sure to send my best wishes to your uncle," Admiral Croker said, waving away the Phoenix commander. He shuffled through the documents on his desk before finding the letters that he wanted. "Crawley, send Captain Flint in. What? Oh, well send Captain Bolitho in, and fetch Mister Deverel. Captain! Come in. Sherry?" He stood and moved to the sideboard, pouring two glasses without waiting for an answer.

Once inside the cabin, Bolitho watched as Croker poured the sherry, waiting to give him his written report of the fort attack. At the same time, he wondered what new orders the admiral was going to be issuing. He could only hope that the instructions would be more sane than the ones for the attack, and hopefully Croker would not immediately change his mind upon issuing them either.

"There you are, good man," the admiral said, handing him a glass. "Is that your report for me?"

"Yes sir, it is." Bolitho accepted the glass with one hand and passed his report to the admiral with the other.

"Good, good, good. I won't read it now, but, er, remind me what it says?" he said, sitting down at his desk while leaving the captain standing.

Bolitho took a sip of his sherry, trying to calm himself a bit before speaking again. The admiral's incompetence was staggering. If he was any sort of able leader, he would have known exactly what had transpired during the battle. But instead, he need to be reminded of the day's action.

"It details how our combined naval forces infiltrated the fort, both from below in the tunnels and through the sea gate," he said, "And of course how we eventually took the fort due to the destruction of the powder magazine and the excellent efforts of all the men."

"Yes yes yes, I know all that," Croker replied, waving his glass before emptying it. "I mean details, details, man. Here, sit down," he added, finally indicating a chair. "You yourself came through the sea gate? With your lieutenant, Mister, ah, Bush, was it?"

Taking the offered chair, Bolitho sat down, trying his best not to let Croker's aggravating attitude get to him.

"Yes, Mr. Bush and I came through the sea gate, along with a party of seamen and Marines from our ship and the other ships as well. We succeeded in blowing open the gate and forcing our way into the fort through it."

"Good, good. And the men who went through the tunnel, as you call it?"

"They came up into some of the fort's storerooms, and attacked the French from inside."

"And I understood that group was led by your marine lieutenant?"

"By Mr. Cartwright, yes, and by your own lieutenant, Mr. Deverel."

"Mister Deverel, yes... Your own lieutenant George was quite an asset to us on the north wall. Yes, quite a brave man. I dare say he told you about the, er, unlucky stroke I had with one of my pistols. But he was there to keep us all in order, eh? A good man in a fight!"

Lieutenant George had not told Bolitho how he had killed a Frenchman who had attacked the admiral, but it was not difficult to guess that some happy accident had brought him into the admiral's eye.

"Yes, I know he'll be a great loss to you."

"George is a good man, sir," Bolitho nodded, "He has proved his skills in battle as well as in seamanship, and he...I beg your pardon sir, but what do you mean by 'a great loss?'"

Croker looked at the captain sharply, trying to guess whether he was being sarcastic. But no, it seemed he was innocently ignorant. "Oh! Well, I've decided to give him the Sylphe, the brig we captured, to take back to England the news of this victory in Oporto. There are his orders. Please deliver them for me." He looked at Bolitho to see how he would take the news.

The steward opened the door just then. "Mister Deverel is here, sir."

"Good, send him in, send him in."

The lieutenant entered with an eagerness that could not be completely hidden by sober deference as he saluted the admiral.

Bolitho stared at the orders the admiral had indicated, not entirely sure what to say. Of course he could do nothing to countermand Croker's decision, but he hoped that the admiral did not intend to leave his ship one lieutenant short. But before he could inquire about that, the door opened and Lieutenant Deverel entered the cabin. Bolitho looked at him briefly, then turned back to Croker.

"Certainly sir," he said at last, "But if I may ask, will the Terpsichore be receiving another lieutenant to be Mr. George's replacement?"

Deverel looked at Bolitho, confused and startled at the end of the conversation that he was hearing. He did not like the sound of a lieutenant leaving the Terpsichore.

"You're very impudent and demanding, aren't you, Bolitho!" Croker exclaimed. "I expected more gratitude for this favor I'm showing to your officer!"

"I apologise for having spoken out of turn, sir," Bolitho said, keeping his voice level to hide the anger rising up inside him. Croker was robbing him of one of his officers, and the man had the nerve to call him demanding? Given the admiral's attitude, perhaps he truly intended to leave the Terpsichore with only two lieutenants. "I am greatly appreciative of the favor you are showing to Mr. George. I was merely making an inquiry. My apologies."

"Well in return for that favor, you will do a favor for me. I need fifteen of your men to come on board the Defiance to make up the numbers we lost."

Taking away one officer clearly was not enough for Croker. He apparently felt the need to rob the Terpsichore of sailors as well, even though the Defiance could not have suffered the loss of that many men.

"Yes sir," Bolitho said. What else could he say?

The admiral had expected more argument and he felt slightly disappointed by this easy triumph. "I won't ask you to supply the whole prize crew, Bolitho. It's a small sacrifice, and we all must make sacrifices," he grumbled.

Deverel looked up eagerly at the mention of a prize crew. The admiral eyed him shrewdly.

"However, it's not all loss. Since I must deprive you of one lieutenant, I am giving you another. Mister Deverel here."

Deverel looked at the admiral, confusion obvious on his face. "Sir?"

"Yes, Mister Deverel here," Croker continued as if the lieutenant had not spoken. "He will take the place of Lieutenant George who is to be given the prize, and he will serve you on Terpsichore. There are your orders, sir, and there are yours Mister Deverel. If you hurry you can catch a lift on the captain's barge here. I won't have constant to-ing and fro-ing with my boats if not necessary. Good day, gentlemen."

Deverel stared in shock, first at the admiral and then at his new captain.

Bolitho saw the shock on Deverel's face, seeing that Croker's announcement had come as a surprise to him as well. He felt similarly shocked but did not allow his expression to give that away. Deverel was not at all the sort of replacement he would have liked. From what Bolitho had seen of the man, he did not appear to be a very competent officer, certainly not to the level that George had been. But clearly there was no point in making any sort of protest, for the admiral obviously had nothing more to say to either of them. Rising to his feet, he picked up his orders.

"Thank you sir," he said to Croker, then turned to Deverel, "Well, we'd best get going, Mr. Deverel, if we are to make good time in getting back to the Terpsichore."

Deverel opened his mouth to speak but could not find the words to say. He had to content himself with a simple stunned "Yes sir."

Sam Oxley was waiting for Lieutenant Deverel to come out of his meeting with the Admiral. He really, really needed to speak to the officer, as soon as he could.

Deverel walked past without noticing or caring about the seaman, distracted by his shock at the admiral's orders.