Chapter 3

McCock knocked on the door of Room 3001 and heard the growled "Enter". Bracing himself, he opened the door and not quite marched in. Standing at the end of the room was the only occupant. Not quite sure what to do next as the man turned to face him, McCock took the safest option, halting to attention, he held his salute while introducing himself,

"Ensign Hezbediah Matthius Samuel McCock joining the company," then he cut the salute.

The man looked taken aback for a moment and then said,

"Welcome.", making a 'come on' sign with his right hand. McCock tendered his orders' chip which the man inserted into a type of reader McCock had not seen before.

"Captain Rowan RMN ... sit ... anywhere."

The Captain lowered himself into the arm chair at the end of the table as he read the information rather abstractedly muttering to himself as he did so.

Glowering under his eyebrows at McCock seating himself in the chair second from that end,

"Whatever possessed you not to specify a service branch – you could have ended up in Personnel, or worse, Supply. You came third in your year!" the Captain accused.

McCock considered the disheveled man in the heavy shapeless brown suit – he could have been a Postal Clerk from his appearance.

Held by the Captain's gaze, McCock removed his forage cap and placed it on the table while he considered his reply.

"I could work in almost any branch of the RMN Service. I am aware that I constitute a security nightmare and realize that clearances would limit offers to me..."

Rowan muttered, "You got that right first time!!"

McCock continued,

"In the next twenty years or so (your years not Tyears) this Kingdom will be at war with Harbouria. It will be for Mountserrat a life or death struggle as you will probably be outgunned by the Harbourites even if your politicians pull together which I don't believe will happen soon enough. You will be a large mouthful for Harbourites to swallow. My heritage requires me to help this system in ANY way I can to at least give the Harbourites a bad case of indigestion – terminal if I get my wish – as I can possibly by my help. If I get stuck in Supply, I will work diligently hoping to convince the powers that be that I can be trusted sufficiently for line appointments. If not ... Your industrial base can be brought up to just adequate but your great advantage is your research and development base with your great base and probably insuperable lead in minaturisation in command and control facilities. That will probably be enough on the equipment side and if, and I say, only if, it will be adequate then the major problem will be manning your warships of all classes. You follow, as do the Harbourites, the traditional ... ah ... carefree over-manning. To survive not only will you have to decrease present manning levels back to minimums, you are going to have to and I firmly believe the word is, HAVE, to automate your warships. You will need more warships than you can man at present levels. If you start now, today, you still won't be ready by war's outbreak because of the not only long lead times of development but your never willing politicians will not supply adequate funding for the necessary R & D. That is why I presented that unsolicited paper on automation to Commodore Courtney."

'I just hate those wet behind the ears news minted smart alecs who agree with me', thought Rowan.

"Yeh. Raoul was very impressed. He thinks you're about the third or fourth best tactician he has seen- the best graduated a year ahead of you, but he thinks you leave her far behind in your wake in engineering. Heck, he says you are the best he's ever seen – and you rank extremely high if not the best in coms and electronics; and you are no slouch on weapons either. Yeh, we can use you. We don't think you are a spy because if you were enemy, you'd make a far greater contribution to them by just working for them instead of spying on us. But still we've got a problem with your clearances. What we've managed is to get you access to this Admin Wing and to the repair yards where theoretically you won't have access to any news developments. Ha bloody ha!!. Right! Let's get you marched in. Civvies in future and keep your security card in a pocket and not hanging around your neck like the rest of the place. We'll only be able to get you a green card." Rowan waved McCock towards the door, "No covers in doors!!"

McCock slipped his cap into a side pocket as he followed the captain into the corridor.