Commander's Rounds Volume 1

Entry 61: Welcome Caravan

The day after he arrived, Albert Kesler had finally gotten his room in order in a way that he liked. He''d set up his desk where he wanted it, his dresser where he needed it, and even moved the bed to a place where the sun wouldn't wake him up at inopportune times- only the times he would generally prefer. If it was going to be his room, then it was going to be his room . He'd explored the functions of his kitchen, he'd checked everything else, and it was in working order.

He was sure the commander would pay him a visit at some point, so he made sure to have breakfast bright and early so he would be prepared for whatever the commander had planned that morning.

His expectations were correct.

The commander knocked on the door, and Albert let him in, standing to attention and saluting. "Sir! I do hope that these sudden arrangements do not interfere with base procedure."

The commander shrugged. "At ease." Albert put his hands behind his back. "It's really not a problem- Victorious messaged me, too, and I've put the paper in motion. There's really no reason for you not to be able to stay here- aside from you and me, most of the men who work here live in town rather than on base." He looked at his new assistant. "It sounds to me like you've started getting along with the others already."

"The commander's directives proved to be useful." He began. "Helping Victorious was not burdensome. It was a worthwhile use of time."

That was certainly a way you could phrase it, but then, the commander just wasn't used to having a regular subordinate that would speak to him in formal military address. The commander looked around at the arrangement of Albert's room, and there was a detail that did intrigue him- the desk that had his computer was as far away from his bed as it could have been. "That's an interesting place for it- when I first met you, you seemed like the kind of person who'd roll out of bed and right into work, and back."

"That's actually a suboptimal arrangement, sir." He looked at his desk, then back to the commander. "One thing that has been backed by studies is that there are only so many hours per day that a human being can truly engage productively with one's work before one's performance degrades at a swift rate. While there are some cultures and institutions that embrace a mindset of workaholism, that is not a practice that produces superior results, and in some cases, can prove counterproductive due to errors made by vital actions performed past the useful period of engagement. Sir."

The commander rubbed one of his temples. It had taken him a long time to deal with the fact that his work habits were not ideal, and he was still slow to let it go and delegate more to others because he had thought of it as one of the ways he showed devotion to the fleet. The girls had their own way of ripping him away from his desk, and he had been getting better over time, but with them, it was often couched in terms of "All Work and No Play etc." This was true enough, but Leutnant Kesler put the pointlessness of it in very stark terms.

So did Prinz Eugen, one time, but now he began to see that as strangely appropriate, considering the origins of his new assistant.

"Well, that's reasonable enough. Anyway, it'll take us a moment to prepare a full briefing for you about what has developed here, as there were some clearance matters that still needed to be dealt with before we could give you full access to our data and intelligence. That won't take very long. Even apart from that, well..." The commander took a deep breath. "I need to figure out how to make some of the things that happen sound like plausible occurrences."

"Understandable. Even in the field of conventional military conflict, it is occasionally difficult to believe that facts are facts." He spoke up. "Commander, though a full briefing may not be available at this time, I would prefer to have some general expectations of my duties."