In Trouble on the First Day

Ralynn Waverunner

Bosun of the Golden Hide
Branched from https://vulpineimperium.net/threads/the-urk-expedition.18/

Ralynn nods crisply at Talinn's order, her ears snapping to attention. "Aye aye, Minister!" She turns smartly on her heel, fixing Morgan with a stern gaze. "Ye heard 'is Grace. Wit' me, noo." Her voice is firm, brooking no argument.

She strides towards the jill, her small frame set sharp and stern. Ralynn escorts her out onto the main deck, the sea breeze whipping at their fur, carrying with it the smells of the sea and the day's fish catch being hauled in.

Ralynn steers Morgan to a spot near the mainmast, positioning her firmly at attention. "Stand straight, eyes forward," she barks, circling the jill like a drill sergeant inspecting a raw recruit. Ah dinnae like this part o' tha' job. But part o' the job 'tis, and Ah'll do it proper, so Ah will.

Ralynn comes to a halt in front of her, paws clasped behind her back, ears erect and quivering slightly. "Noo then," she says, her voice low and dangerous, "would ye care tae explain tae me why ye thought it proper tae barge intae a meetin' o' officers wit' the Minister himself? Mayhaps Captain Gyles ran 'is ship loose, but what he might 'ave allowed afore is nae longer flyin', d'ye understand?"

The rabbit begins to pace, her footsteps thumping out a sharp rhythm on the deck. "Wit' a Minister o' the Imperium on board, the crew will be held tae a higher standard. An' that means knowin' yer place an' stickin' tae it." God she sounded like her mother in ways she never expected.

She whirls to face Morgan again, her brown eyes hard as agates. "Ye'll await the Minister's judgment, an' pray he's in a merciful mood." She jabs a claw at the jill. "Tell me, then: What've ye to say fer yersel'?"

@Morgan Liu @Duke Talinn Ryalor
 
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Morgan stood at attention, which felt highly unnatural to her. She wasn't used to having her back straight like this; naturally she tended to fall into a slouch. She listened to the rabbit chewing her out, wincing inside at the reprimand. Despite how boring it had been in the navy so far - no, because of it, she'd leaped at the first sign of actual activity. She hadn't been thinking that her presence might be unwelcome; if anything, she figured that showing an interest might well be taken as initiative. Apparently she'd badly misread the situation.

Morgan drew in a breath as she was pointed at, fighting to tamp down the boiling indignation inside of her. She'd seen how much trouble it had caused for her mother in situations where the weasel had let out what Mum called 'her Vengrian side', and she didn't want to land in the same trouble. Still, she couldn't just let it go unanswered. "Permission tae speak freely?" she asked, slipping unconsciously into a matching brogue. "Ah mae 'ave barged in uninvited, but ye an' the Minister dinnae 'ave tae let me stay. Ah dinnae sneak in; ye all saw me enter plain as day, an' nae a word was raised against it. Ye could 'ave jes' as easily said 'private meetin', keep out' an' I wouldae lef' righ' there an' then. Ah'll take me lumps for speakin' up 'fore Ah was spoken tae, but treatin' me like a trespasser is a mite excessive fer the situation."
 
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Ralynn's nose twitches in a mixture of annoyance and begrudging agreement as she listens to Morgan's defense. Truth be told, she herself had assumed the ferret had a right to be there, or at least hadn't known enough to say she wasn't supposed to be. But of course, she couldn't let that uncertainty show. It would undermine her authority, and as a woodlander in the Imperium's navy, she knew all too well the importance of maintaining a firm grip on the reins of command. Show weakness like tha, aye, an they'll eat ye alive. Mayhaps for real.

"Oh, aye, an' ye think it's yer place tae decide what is an' isnae excessive, do ye?" Ralynn retorts, squaring her shoulders and facing the jill head-on. She takes a deliberate step forward, standing just a bit too close for comfort, her ears erect and quivering with barely contained irritation. "That'll be decided by the Minister, an' no one else, ye ken?"

The golden-furred rabbit jabs a claw at Morgan's chest, her brown eyes flashing. "It isnae fer me tae say why the Minister decided tae keep 'is peace. When 'e said naught, we said naught. It'll be 'is Grace ye want tae spend yer cheek on, if ye've the nerve." She leans in, her voice dropping to a low, warning bunny growl. "Ah wouldnae recommend such a course, mind."

But then, just as quickly as it came, the fire in Ralynn's gaze dims, replaced by a flicker of something almost like sympathy. Her voice softens just a touch, enough to hopefully impress her sincerity. "Best ye take yer lumps an' let it move on. Mayhaps if things 'ad gone different, if that ol' rackety searat 'ad 'eld 'is tongue, or if ye 'ad kept yers, things may 'ave gone a diff'rent route. But this is where we're at, aye?"

She steps back, giving Morgan some space to breathe, to think.

@Morgan Liu
 
Morgan winced as apparently, much like most times, she had said the wrong thing. Still, she got the impression that this rabbit's heart wasn't quite in the dressing-down, which was surprisingly reassuring. Either that or she'd decided that Morgan wasn't worth the effort, not when the Minister himself was going to deliver the real punishment. Of course, there was another possibility: the officer might not have the authority to deliver any real punishment in this situation, and wanted to avoid overstepping right before the Minister was due to come inspect her work.

She decided to risk a response, unwise as it might be. "So, for the future an' the sake of me own enligh'enment, what 'uld be the protocol fer telling an officer or magister 'at they're on the verge of steppin' in it? Af'er all, wouldn' it lose more face fer 'em tae make a righ' tail end o' it than tae be advised a' such by the crew?"
 
Ralynn blinks, taken aback by Morgan's question. For a moment, the rabbit's mask of stern authority slips, revealing a flicker of uncertainty beneath. 'Tis a fair point the jill raises, aye - better to prevent ah superior from makin' ah mistake than to let'em blunder ahead. But the very idea of a crewbeast advising an officer, let alone a Minister... it goes against every principle of the chain of command that's been drilled into Ralynn's head since she first stepped aboard a Navy vessel.

Outwardly, however, Ralynn maintains her composure. She draws herself up to her full height (which, admittedly, isn't much), and fixes Morgan with a stern gaze. "Thair's a chain o' command fer a reason, lass," she says, her voice firm but not unkind. "If ye 'ad concerns, ye should 'ave taken 'em tae yer immediate superior after the meetin', in proper fashion. 'Tis not yer place tae be advisin' officers or Ministers, no matter 'ow well-intentioned ye may be."

And yet... a small, traitorous part of her can't help but wonder. Is this really what Ah signed up fer? To be at the mercy of the whims and fancies of those above mah rank, punished fer no' bein' able tae read their minds? It's a disquieting thought, one that she quickly tries to push aside. But it lingers like a bad taste in the back of her mouth, souring some of the pride she once took in her position.

She softens slightly, her ears drooping a fraction. "'Tis a hard lesson tae learn, Ah knoo. But 'tis one we all must accept if we're tae serve in 'Er Majesty's Navy. We follow orders, an' trust that those above us know what's best. Tae do otherwise..." She shakes her head, her expression grim. "Tis a path that leads only tae chaos an' mutiny."

Even as she says the words, Ralynn can feel a twinge of doubt in her heart. Wha' if those giving the orders are wrong, or corrupt, aye, or just plain mad? But she pushes those treacherous thoughts down, locking them away in a corner of her mind. She has a duty to perform, and by all that floats, she'll see it through.

"Noo, enough talk," she says brusquely, straightening her uniform. "Ye'll stand 'ere an' await the Minister's judgment, as ordered. An' in the future, ye'll remember yer place, an' stick tae it. Is tha' clear?"

@Morgan Liu
 
Morgan felt a sour taste in her mouth at the rabbit's explanation. Frankly, it seemed to Morgan like anybeast who was that scared of being made the fool probably knew they were one, and just was scared that everyone could see it. How many times had Morgan gotten in trouble with her parents because she corrected their Vulpinsulan, or called out when they were making a mistake? Sure, she probably could afford to keep her trap shut about slips of the tongue and no one would be hurt, but this was the bloody navy; a fool making a bad call would get beasts killed.

"Aye, h'officer," Morgan responded, standing still. She bit her lip, trying to restrain herself from saying anything that would land her in more trouble. She failed. "So, where is me place exactly? Is it allus this spot, or will someone come tae tell me if it changes?"
 
"Yer spot'll be as ye make it, crewbeast. Ah'll make no pretensions that anybeast has nae foibles an' faults. But Ah can promise tha' Minister daes appreciate competency an' loyalty. Ye dae yer work an' show yersel' tae be ah benefit tae tha' crew, and ye'll find tha rewards equal tha punishments fer daein' tha opposite."

Ralynn watches Morgan intently, the rabbit's keen brown eyes trying to pierce through the ferret's very soul. The chill sea breeze tugs at her golden fur, carrying with it the sharp scent of salt and tar. For a moment, the only sound is the creaking of the ship's timbers and the distant cries of gulls wheeling overhead and the shouts and noises of the ship's crew at work.

'Tis a hard thing, tae be sure, Ralynn muses silently, her thoughts as thick and tangled as a nest of sea-snakes. Tae knoo yer place, an' yet tae see those above ye stumble an' falter. She remembers her own early days in the Navy, the burning desire to prove herself, to show that a woodlander could be just as brave and capable as any vermin. But she had quickly learned that the path to respect was paved with obedience, not boldness.

An' yet... A flicker of doubt, like a candle flame in a darkened room. Is blind loyalty truly the way? Whit good is a ship if its captain steers it onto the rocks? Ralynn shakes her head, as if trying to physically dislodge the treacherous thoughts. Nae, 'tis not fer me tae question. Ah have mah duty, an' Ah'll see it through, come hell or high water.

Outwardly, the rabbit's expression remains stern, her posture ramrod straight. "Ye'll stand here an' await the Minister's judgment," she says, her voice carrying over the whistling of the wind through the rigging. "An' in future, ye'll remember tae hold yer tongue 'til yer asked fer yer thoughts. Is tha' clear?"

The words taste bitter on Ralynn's tongue, like the dregs of a mug of grog left out in the sun.

Nae matter, she tells herself firmly, squaring her shoulders as if bracing for a blow. Ah chose this path, an' Ah'll walk it tae the end, whate'er may come.

With a final, curt nod to Morgan, Ralynn turns smartly on her heel, walks twelve paces, turns again and comes to a smart at ease position a few meters away, guarding to keep the crewbeast in position as ordered. The Golden Hide is mah home noo, she thinks, a flicker of her old fire rekindling in her breast. An' Ah'll serve her an' her crew wi' all tha' Ah am, come storm or shine.

But as she patiently stands in her position, Ralynn can feel the weight of Morgan's gaze on her, and the even heavier weight of the questions the jill had raised. Whit makes a good officer? she wonders, the thought as persistent as a splinter beneath her fur. Is it only obedience, or also tha courage tae speak truth tae power?

It's a question that will haunt her long after this voyage is over, a seed of doubt taking root in the fertile soil of her mind. But for now, Ralynn has a duty to perform, and a ship to serve. And serve she will, with all the strength and skill she possesses.

The future will have its day.
 
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