Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT FIVE - PART THREE

A commanding officer had only a hand full of way to know how his subordinates were really doing. They could go the easiest path and simply ask someone, only to often receive a slightly glossed version of the truth for a subordinate will never tell a commanding officer to their face how they truly feel. It's different when they can turn to another more experienced officer with the same rank, who has a good connection to their commanding officer, due to various reasons. Jake and Jon were such people for Grace.

Captain Kazansky knew what was happening on the Trafalgar, she knew how all the aviators were doing, even though she wasn't directly in charge of them to be exact. Knew all about their worries, their hopes and believes. It was something most officers condemned unimportant, but Grace knew that someone, who feels heard by their commanding officers will not turn against them as easily as someone, who thinks of the highest ranked officers of a base or a carrier as a 'them' and of the aviators they have to trust with their life because up there, they have no other choice as a 'us'.

Other than that, if an officer had no real connection to their subordinates, all they could do was take in their surroundings and attempt to come to their own realisation. Grace liked to approach this issue with the later tactic additionally to trusting her most trusted. But she understood that Springer did not do either of those things. There was just so much time one could stand on deck and watch people do their jobs before they would start to fumble and to fail out of nervousness. Which is why Grace had decided a long time ago that a good place to observe the people around her was the mess hall.

And observe she did.

Even though this might not be her ship, nor her subordinates, because she was only the commanding officer of two fellow aviator on board of the carrier, Jake and Jon, but old habits die hard and as a Captain, she was outranking every member of the Trafalgar spare Admiral Springer. Which is why, should the crew follow the barbaric principal of eat the rich and translate it to fit the Navy, she would be in for it too.

"Kazansky, Good morning." Jon Henry greeted her as he took a seat opposite the captain, a tray of food before the Admiral. He seemed happy, so sure as hell obvious to the mood of the crew due to the constant rain and storms and the lack of shore leave, which was very much his personal decisions which the entire carrier knew about.

"Admiral." Grace greeted in return before taking another sip of her coffee. Coffee was one of the bare necessities. Should they ever run out of coffee, there would be nothing left protecting them from an angry mob.

She wondered if she should tell him, for the sake of her own protection.

"Have you found your lost submarine?" She wondered, looking at the young Admiral over the rim of her cup of coffee, while he began to devour his breakfast, even though mannerly.

"Not yet. The rain makes it quite difficult." He admitted and Grace had to call upon all the self-control in her body to not roll her eyes and say 'no shit sherlock'.

"Well, we should see to it." Grace pointed out while she watched the Admiral eat. Only to be forced to also watch as he gestured around with his fork, a piece of sausage pierced on it.

"Are you offering your service? I thought you reminded me that my squadrons were perfectly capable of flying a patrol and that it was beneath you." She never said it was beneath her, just that that wasn't why she was appointed to the Trafalgar with her team.

"You don't realise in what kind of situation we are, do you?" The younger Kazansky wondered out loud, which caused the Admiral to pause, fork stilled in the air, before he moved his head rather than his fork to get the sausage off the fork with his teeth before chewing.