We we running, no other way to put it. Hell we'd just barely made it out before their attacks had absolutely destroyed the remains of the Flesta fleet at anchor. Oh Gods... where had it all gone wrong?
Two weeks prior
"Sir, is this some kind of joke?" I asked in a calm, direct manner.
"Well sir, headquarters said to give you command of our most capable destroyer, the Albion happens to be just that." The short harbor master grunted in response.
"Relax Comoran," I punched his shoulder lightly. "She'll be fine." I sobered up, staring at the vessel, my ship and first actual command. The Albion was bobbing quietly at anchor, crew lounging about its decks under wildly spread canvas or sunning themselves under the tropical sun.
"Well, that's good to hear." Comoran replied stiffly, quickly adjusting his uniform again.
Comoran and I went back to academy, the graduating class of '77. I'd placed seventy third, he'd placed two hundred eleventh. (There'd been three hundred graduates). We'd both served aboard the old Halpadis before she'd been decommissioned back in '81. We'd then been placed in the beach.
Last I'd heard from him he'd transferred to a base position at Helstran. But he'd been transferred since to the backwater of Trasti. A small naval base on the western edge of the Elgran archipelago.
The Albion displaced perhaps some one thousand tons or so, fairly small for a destroyer. She was pushing thirty years in age, and considering her a frontline unit was laughable at best.
Her flush deck and four raked funnels gave her class the impression of speed. 32 knots had been fast, but the new Elspador class topped out in the low 40s.
She had a quartet of 4.2 inch, 50 caliber guns, of which only three could bear on a single target at once. But her main armament, and the reason for her high speed were her four triple torpedo launchers.
But she was far from being my ideal command. Rust peaked through the paint in places. I shuddered, not wanting to think what state her engineering spaces were in.
"Hey, Xoldi." Comoran asked hesitantly disturbing my gloomy mood. I grinned, giving him a small nod.
"You can tell me anything, I'll take it to my grave." I promised.
"That's not very reassuring." He hissed back. Comoran was smart, he was probably the only living being to discover what I really was, it was somewhat amazing, considering the lengths I'd gone to.
"Thing is... ah, I've got this girl now." He said quietly as a pair of off duty sailors strolled past.
"Congratulations I suppose?" That said, I'm not really understanding what he wanted from me.
"It's just that she's the most beautiful broad on base. There's plenty of guys who're after her."
"Would you like me to take care of a few of them?" I asked candidly.
"No!" He shouted quite loudly. Startling a few welders working on a tramp steamer nearby.
"Nothing of the sort." He continued much quieter, "ya see, I was just ask'in to see if you could hang around? Like in the old days?"
"I supposed to host the Albion's Treststad dinner tonight." I replied.
"Ah, of course." He nodded, seeming to shrink in on himself for a moment. He straightened and offered me his hand. "Congratulations on the promotion Captain."