Chapter 2

Many years prior, Lieutenant Thomas Jefferson Strathlawn, RMN had boarded the space freighter "Brittainy" at the New London orbital docks. He was looking a trifle worse for wear having had a rather boisterous send off party the previous evening. His shipmates and his newer friends had gathered at the "Mayfair" to farewell him as he returned to his home planet after being seconded to His Brittanic Majesty's Space Navy for five years during which time he had seem extensive combat as a Missile Officer during the Mar's rebellion. His ship, HMS "Barnham", had been part of the USW fleet sent into the Police Action. His last combat had resulted in severe facial and upper body burns and, with the consent of the Mountserrat government, a Distinguished Service Cross to add to his George Cross received for his actions in saving the lives of four shipmates in the aftermath of the magazine explosion which wrecked the BC, HMS "St Vincent". One of the reasons for his return was that he required further regenerative work which needed fresh genetic material from his relatives. It was for this reason that many of his fellow passengers avoided the disfigured man travelling in mufti. The crew did not avoid him as they were full bottle on the cause for the scarring and he was one of theirs despite the light hearted mutual contempt between crown and trade — a spacer who had risked his neck saving fellow spacers.

Not all the passengers avoided him. A widow was returning to Gorgipest after visiting her family on Old Earth following the death of her much older husband. She had also needed to familiarise herself with her late husband's assets. They were of the same age. They were lonely. They spent the three months of the slow voyage from New London to Settlement together in the haze of lust or love of a torrid shipboard romance. They spent their last night in the "Excelsior" in Settlement before going their separate ways.

Lt Strathlawn found himself a patient in the McIndoe Foundation Regenerative Centre where his features were restored over nearly a year of work by the consultants of RMN Medical Service. Because of the long periods of 'doing nothing' involved in his repairs, longstanding principles that a healthy mind assisted in the making of a healthy body had him temporarily posted to the private yards of Headmale's where his duty consisted of monitoring the building of the CA "Forceful". It was quickly noted by his seniors that young Strathlawn had a 'nose' for ... not shoddy ... rather ... below standard work

On being returned fit for duty, TJ, as he preferred to be called, found himself a full Commander, RMN, to his satisfaction, and posted to a desk in First Sea Lord's Plans' Department as an Intelligence Officer, much to his chagrin. He was not too unhappy at piloting a desk as he regarded himself fortunate at having had five continuous years of space appointments albeit in a friendly navy including four operational duty tours. He was way overdue for a shore posting as the RMN was long on officers and short on ships — valiantly striving to maintain a high staff level competence despite the politicians with the long range threat of Harbourian intentions across the Orion Perseus Gap extending into the Orion arm.

TJ found himself in an obscurely named section, "Diplomatic Reports Assessment". This entailed reading — lots of reading — of everything available about, in TJ's case, Harbouria. The theme of the department was "PARANOIA" in big raised brass CAPITAL LETTERS. The fussy gentleman who headed the section was a professional bureaucrat who had held an obscure position on the clerical staff of the His Mountserrian Majesty's Embassy to the Republic of Harbouria until, somehow, he had been declared "persona non gratis" (an unacceptable person) after a particularly vicious gun battle in a secretive section of the building housing the benignly named Civil Protection Department in which he had most certainly not been involved — the Ambassador had said he was in discussion with his personal secretary at the time of the episode and so he was not there as he could not have been in two places at once. (There was an unfortunate error in the stated times — some negligent person had failed to specify which time zone was being referred to in the communications.)

The fussy gentleman had a memory bank constructed of sponge and he pointed TJ at news fax reports of social functions, boarding school events, government gazettes, tonnages of material shipped from and into ports, social reports, shipyard celebrations, visits of squadrons to outlying planets — that is, anything, (well truly everything) concerning the RHN and its economy.

Every 'straw in the wind' was 'grist for the mill' and on those flimsy foundations assessments were made of the veracity of the report and then on the significance of the report. By close and diligent attention to these factors, a reasonably accurate assessment of the RHN Order of Battle and the Flag Officers commanding was maintained. A less accurate assessment of the RHN economy was in place. An even less accurate assessment of the political alliances and 'drifts' in the Harbourian hegemony was held but was frustratingly complicated by the insistence of Harbouria that subject states were only allies who were free to come and go as they pleased. When that observation was repeated to the fussy gentleman, he would fix the speaker with a stare which tended to shrivel the soul and the speaker found themselves posted to whatever remote outpost of the Nation which was short a supply officer. (All newcomers were quickly warned by their colleagues of the penalty — except for one pompous ass who had used political influence to obtain a posting to the section believing that would benefit her career.)

Using figures discounted to 90% of Mounty efficiency, the fussy gentleman had passed onto the First Sea Lord, his concerns at not knowing where about half of the order of battle had been constructed — that is unless Harbourian efficiency was of the order of 237% and nowhere near that had been demonstrated at any yard which had been able to be scrutinised.

The First Sea Lord had passed onto the government the orders of battle of all known fleets including those on Sol; you never knew who was going to be a friend or an enemy until the shootin' actually started.

TJ spent his three years there and was then posted to Warminster for his 'Crusher'; he was second in his group and was given his first choice, command, - of an old CL admittedly, HMS "Nugent", in which he spent three happy years in space. For the first several months, however, he had to keep reminding himself that there was not a state of war between Harbouria and Mountserrat. Indeed, at a professional level, relations could not have been more cordial between Naval officers of the respective services. His time in the dungeons of 'Plans', had made him sharper; and his very carefully worded reports of the contacts both planned and incidental caused a silent smile in the fussy gentleman as they helped add 'grist to the mill' of the gentleman's assessment of the lower decks of the RHN as being of lower efficiency than their Mounty counterparts; not because of any inherent stupidity of individuals, but rather of a system which did not basically educate its 'lower classes'.

TJ accumulated his leave entitlements and some six years after his recuperation, he was ordered off duty to relax etc; as he had not been able to exorcise Betty Higgins from his thoughts, he spent his leave on Georgipest discreetly enquiring after her. He found much evidence of her up to her husband's demise but virtually nowt after. He had a holo chip of her portrait (which with a code devolved into a most pornographic pose which Betty had delightfully presented to him after a memorable night during their cruise — this was not shown by TJ in his enquiries). He had made several visits and even when he was posted to Georgipest some seventeen years after their relationship, he was still searching.