Chapter 8

To the denizens of the floor, nobody else in the world seemed to think war was coming. It was all surreal. They worked long hours spending weeks on and off planet on short fleet attachments which left the Crypt always feeling dissatisfied. In the Navy, but not in space, navigating a desk going nowhere with blood – upon – the – floor arguments with always higher ranking serving officers from time to time. When he didn't have the duty, McCock, as an Ensign was required to undertake his rostered share of OW duties, increasingly took himself off on week ends to the marina to sail his sloop about the near coast. The habit got formed to take the Crypt as his crew. There was no shortage of company at the sailing club and the Crypt liked the relaxation in the bar and dining room. The Navy would have frowned upon the fraternization and the Membership would have been dropping black balls all over the place if they'd known that the Crypt were only Navy NCO's. But they didn't know and as far as they knew, the Crypt members just 'worked in the City'. Unbeknownst to each other, both Aggy and Slow 'played the market', both doing well for their respective economic base.

Slow was just one of the boys and she never lacked for company with her rather spectacular colouring and as Aggy called it her comfortable ass. The upper wasn't too bad either.

On the longer vacations there were often companions with the Crypt. The lack of nudity taboos in this Kingdom (on the beaches at least) took a lot of the hassles out of the Crypt's relationships. The access to the sloop was beneficial socially as the exposure to club members of the opposite gender in a relaxed environment rapidly took the rough edge off the Crypt. Their obvious intelligence and great technical general knowledge in their respective fields helped that intermingling. There were often dividends for the Crypt as exposure to some of the brighter in the commercial fields of engineering and electronics kept their information far more current than by just reading journals and reports.

McCock kept current with naval philosophy and tactics with the Royal Naval Institute's journals and lecture evenings – always reporting to the Crypt by summary and critique of what he had heard.

McCock's educating of his flock led to a severe episode of heart burn for Captain Rowan.

On a cheery spring morning some six years after the Crypt was formed when Silas was feeling at peace with the world; all his projects were ahead if not on time; the Crypt hadn't upset anybody higher than commander or a visiting peer of the realm in the past nine weeks; there was a minor earthquake.

Silas answered his com,

"Good morning Sir, Captain Rowan speaking, how may I help you?"

As per SOP when the caller was not identified. Silas could see the contact was in the Yard but didn't recognise the number.