This piece of fiction I just wrote up goes on the pretense that capsuleer militia ranks aren't completely pointless in terms of fluff RP and 'out-of-pod', with higher ranks being able to leverage influence over the crew and staff of the militia NPC corporations. Using my own experience in the RN, it is a bit of a shameless copypasta, but I figured the Federation would stick closely to Western military traditions anyway. Maybe someone could come up with a similar drill ceremony for the other factions? Particularly something Asian-inspired for the Caldari perhaps
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The refit of the FDS Anexartisia, a Proteus-class strategic cruiser, had been complete in the earlier hours of the morning, here, in an unremarkable rented hangar at the Federation Navy base at Dodixie IX-20. However, even if quite a considerable portion of the crew had not slept, it was still time for morning colours, and they were forced wide awake. At every Navy, Customs and Academy facility, whether space station or outpost, the same ceremony would take place, in respect of military tradition, at the exact same time of 0800 New Eden Standard (naturally, at garrisons that are dominantly Intaki, Mannar or Jin-Mei, the ceremony would vary in lieu of their own cultural traditions). One would be foolish to forget, however, that the other national navies of the cluster are also carrying out the same ceremony at the same time. The Republic Fleet’s colours used to be a direct carry-over of the Federation’s, but the resurgence of tribal tradition has distanced it considerably, while the Caldari Navy’s bears almost no resemblance, instead taking from the old ways of the Raata (with a healthy dose of modernity to weed out the redundant elements).
The crew were divided into three divisions in the hangar where the Proteus was berthed; operations, engineering and deck (the latter of whom wouldn’t actually have the honour to serve on the advanced vessel). While a standard cruiser would see a personnel count of several hundred, the numbers here were decidedly subdued, looking almost incomplete, dwarfed by the size of the vessel and the hangar itself. Each division head took position at the front of each squad, holding the rank of Shield Commander, with a division deputy Lieutenant Sentinel standing as the left marker of each group. Right at the front of the assembly was the ship’s executive officer, holding the rank of Aegis Commander. She stood facing the crew, feet parted and hands folded behind her back, with the rest of the crew standing at ease also.
The commanding officer, Luminaire General Seriphyn Inhonores, began the descent down the elevator platform from the catwalks above. The XO dragged her feet to attention as her peripheral vision noticed his imminent arrival.
“Officer approaching!” the woman, likely in her late twenties, bellowed, “Ship’s company, at-ten-shun!”
There was the collective dragging of feet to attention, followed by regimental silence, other than the elevator platform coming to a halt with a mechanical crunch. The CO was dressed in a silver duty uniform, lined with emerald green, as were the rest of the crew. The officers wore caps, and the hands wore berets. Seriphyn stepped off his platform, pausing for a second, before proceeding to march with arms swung high at shoulder height, being sure to emphasize these exaggerated elements of the Gallentean march to avoid accidentally looking like the Caldari, who adopt a less self-important style. The XO spun on her feet, and awaited Seriphyn to arrive at the front of the assembly. It took a bit longer than she anticipated, having undershot the call to attention by just a few, precious seconds.
The capsuleer halted several metres in front of the XO, pausing for half a second, and then turning to face her. His face expressed no emotion, his eyes mostly obscured by the visor of his cap. The pair exchanged salutes once she had marched up to him.
“Ship’s company, ready and assembled for morning colours, sir”
“Very good, stand them at ease”
“Aye, sir”
The quiet swapping of words was only barely audible from the rear ranks of the crew. At all times, did Seriphyn stick to the textbook method, seeking to demonstrate his extended experience in the Federation military, especially before being a capsuleer. The XO spun about to face the divisions after saluting Seriphyn again, shouting out again.
“Parade, stand at…ease!”
There was the slick sliding of feet back to the at ease position, with fists shifting from each crewmember’s side to their lower back, hands folding over one another. Giving another second-long pause, the XO then marched back to her original position, clicking her heels together once she came to a halt, finally going to ease herself.
For the next several minutes, nothing happened. The introductory process was complete at 0754, requiring the parade to simply just stand and wait silently for the next six minutes. During the interim, all of the assembled individuals took the time to let their minds wander and think about whatever their desired. Seriphyn took the time to observe the gluteus of the executive officer stood in front of him, and any intercourse that may occur if the staff happened to rock out at a club for the evening. Similarly, crewmembers were fantasizing over fraternization with other crewmembers, while the personnel that stayed up all night to refit the Proteus were desperately trying to not pass out.
At two minutes before, the XO came to attention.
“Parade!” she yelled out the cautionary, “Parade, at-ten-shun!”
All, including the CO, immediately came to attention, as expected, with the two senior officers turning about to face outwards once the command was complete. At ten seconds to the hour, the stationwide announcement system let out a chime.
“Morning colours” declared the gentle voice of the station’s AI, followed by a whistle that fired off a low note before drawing out a high one for several seconds.
The CO, XO and divisional heads all saluted as soon as the whistle halted. In this rented hangar of a non-FDU station, which carried the exact same format as other capsuleer compounds (militia or no), there was no flag or mast or any sort of symbol at all to be saluting. Instead, in this instance, they were saluting a collection of cargo containers and inactive MTACs, but Seriphyn was adamant that tradition must be maintained no matter where you are (even if he forgot to put a modular, deployable flag and mast on the ship’s manifest). He was confident that many Federation Navy officers wouldn’t bother with this if they weren’t in the correct environment, but the young capsuleer knew that their enemies, the Caldari, would never be so audacious to abandon a daily ceremony just because of some differences in hangar ownership.
In those ten seconds of holding their salute, there was grim recognition and respect from all of those assembled, as military ensigns all across New Eden were raised, whether Federal or foreign. It was an acknowledgement that, despite all the social, cultural and political differences between the empires, that their armies would always be in solidarity with one another, knowing that war and conflict is the same everywhere, whether fighting for God, duty, tribe or liberty. It was the least Seriphyn could expect from his crew each morning and evening.
The stationwide whistle blew again, this time starting at a high note and drew out with a low. To the civilian population of the station, this was nothing but a mild annoyance they had to endure twice a day. The saluting hands returned to their sides, the XO turning about once again.
“Parade, stand at…ease!”
Leaving just a couple of seconds after they shifted stance, she shouted her next order again when the CO had turned about as well.
“Parade, at-ten-shun!”
While anyone else would have found the mild feet dancing intolerable, drill was an important aspect of every military throughout history, varying in style from culture to culture, but always carrying the same intentions and objectives regardless. The XO marched back up to face Seriphyn, saluting once again.
“Morning colours complete, sir”
“Very good, carry on”
“Aye, sir”
The process was now familiar, even to the uninitiated. The XO spun about on her feet once again and marched back to position.
“Ship’s company, stand at…ease!” once the ship’s company had done exactly that, she finished it off with a more casual, gentle announcement, “Stand easy”
The entire rank-and-file broke out in fidgets and scratch pacification duties once the command to relax was given. Seriphyn casually strolled to the side of his executive officer, arms folded behind his back, carrying himself as one would expect, even if he had once hated officers in his previous life.
“Mornin’ folks, absolutely fantastic work with the Proteus ‘ere, she’s lookin’ rather splendid. I know a lot of you ‘ave been up all night workin’ on ‘er, and with that in mind, those of you who were on duty can ‘ave the rest of the day off”
There was the odd cheer from here or there in the assembly, and Seriphyn tried to hold himself back from smiling.
“Yea’, yea’, just Commander Berson ‘ere will be watchin’ out for any of you who weren’t on duty and will regardless try to steal some nip…” he smirked, “Don’t fuckin’ try it, if the Navy finds out ‘ow lazy we FDU are, we’ll continue to be the ridicule of the armed services, just like every other faction militia”
The announcements and banter continued for a while, Seriphyn touching on off-duty venture training, Cordon deployments and promotions, each topic garnering the occasional bellow and cheer of approval from the alpha types of the crew cliques. Once he finished up, after rambling on for a good quarter of an hour, he looked to his XO, who simply came to attention loosely with a polite smile to say she had nothing to add. With that, Seriphyn returned to position, and the process continued.
“Ship’s company!” she shouted, “Ship’s company, at-ten-shun!”
All did as expected.
“Fall out, the commanding officer!” she announced, with the correct pause at the respective syllables.
Seriphyn turned to his right, waited for another half-second, before marching off, breaking into a casual walk once he got out of range. He once again used the opportunity to boast his prowess in military discipline, but his mind otherwise strayed to his incoming duties as he departed the ordered crowd.
"Fall out, the division commanders!" the XO announced in similar fashion to her previous command. The three Shield Commanders at the front of each of the three squads turned to their right, and marched in a straight line towards the outer perimeter of the parade circle.
“Ship’s company will retire. Turning to the right, dis-miss!”
The entire assembly here in the hangar, and everywhere in New Eden, turned to the right, counted to three, and finally relaxed, the sound of casual conversation rising in torrential volume. The chidings of petty officers came soon enough, however, and the crew eventually broke off to their respective duty stations.
With the flags of all the great navies raised high above all of New Eden, the soldiers and warriors of humanity returned to the rituals of war, unhesitant, and unblinking.
Author
Topic: Colours (or How to Train your Crew in Seven Easy Steps) (Read 1313 times)